Page 35 of Hampton Holiday Collective

“Is that what you want, baby girl? You want me to make you come until you’re a fucking puddle?”

I bite on my lip and nod eagerly as my husband gets to work. His cock nudges against my g-spot, building toward the first of my promised orgasms.

More. Fucking. Like it.

Chapter 27

Maddie

IyawnintomyClinton’s mug, desperate to savor the final few dregs of the only caffeine I’m allowed to have today.

“What’s the latest update on the house?” Daphne asks, glancing from the kitchen island to the living room where Wyatt and Winnie are working on a puzzle with Hudson stretched out beside them contently.

“Trying to get rid of us already?”

“Never,” she assures me sincerely. “We love having you here.”

I believe her. But I can’t help but feel like we’re intruding. The house in question is nowhere near ready.

I never envisioned leaving New York, honestly. Dempsey and I talked about starting a family for months before finally committing to the idea. I figured I’d take a few months off work for maternity leave, then we’d hire a nanny like most of our friends in the city and resume our lives as usual.

All those plans evaporated the moment we found out we were having twins.

Together, we decided to take leaves of absence and come home to Hampton for a year. We’re keeping our place in Brooklyn, but for now, this is home.

We planned to stay with Fielding and Daphne temporarily. Dempsey bought a historical home in downtown Hampton, assuring me that it would be move-in-ready by Christmas, and that it would make a great investment property when it was time to head back to the city.

But the renovations are behind—like, really, really behind—and I’m starting to doubt that we’ll be moved in before the babies arrive.

“House updates are non-existent,” I confess before I throw back the last swig of coffee. “Dempsey is beside himself, but between that ice storm a few weeks ago and the holidays, they’ve barely worked on it this month. I’m worried we might be bringing the babies here when they’re born,” I admit, glancing over at my sister-in-law cautiously.

Her eyes grow wide, sparkling with warmth and love.

Daphne can insist all she wants that it’s Fielding who wants a dozen kids. But she’s not fooling me. She loves being a mom more than anything in the world.

“It’ll be so nice to be with family when you bring the twins home.”

My throat clogs with emotion and fear trickles into my consciousness. She came eerily close to identifying one of the hardest parts about this pregnancy, and she doesn’t even realize it.

It’s not the aches and pains. Or the stretch marks. It’s the sad reality that I’m doing this without my parents. More specifically, without my mom.

She’s been gone for less than a year. Actually, I found out I was pregnant the morning of her funeral. Dempsey swears the timing was kismet: that these babies are a blessing she sent to us, and that wherever she is in the ether of the afterlife, she knows our children and will love them from there.

As much as I’d like to believe that, I can’t help but feel cheated.

I whispered my secret when it was time to say our final goodbyes at her graveside. But it wasn’t enough. It’ll never feel like enough.

She never got to experience the joy that would have come with learning she was going to be a grandmother. I never got to see her reaction to the news. I’ll never be able to call her seeking parenting advice. And I’ll never have a photo of her holding her grandbabies.

As if sensing my sadness, Daphne brings a little levity back to the conversation.

“We love you, and we would be honored to have the babies here. We want to help in any way we can, you know that,” she assures me, reaching across the table and squeezing my hand.

“Besides, Fielding is a fiend for newborns. He’ll show Dempsey the ropes, both in terms of taking care of the twins and taking care of you.”

“I don’t need him to take care of me,” I protest with a huff.

“Maddie,” Daphne gently chides. “You’re likely going to have major surgery that will result in your family literally doubling in size. Well, I guess not doubling in size, but doubling in quantity and mouths to feed.”