Page 10 of Silver Spoon Falls, Vol. I

DILLON

Sixty Months Later

Okay, it’s only been six and a half months since we found out there was a new little Armstrong brewing. But the way I see it, months of watching my curvy little firecracker puking her guts up at all hours of the day made it seem like a lot longer.

My wife stares down at our hour-old daughter before placing a light kiss on the newborn’s knuckle. “I kept my promise.”

I glance down at the newborn in my arms and shake my head. “That’s a technicality.” My only son, Theodore, is snuggled in my right arm rooting around against my t-shirt for a tit he isn’t going to find.

“No.” My little firecracker is always ready with an argument.

“I promised that we wouldn’t have three more daughters.

” She shrugs. “I didn’t say anything about multiples.

And I never promised only a single baby.

One girl and a boy is a totally different thing altogether.

Want to trade? This one is out for the count.

” Jules holds Casey up for me. “I think your impatient son is about to tune up.” She points to the baby fidgeting in my arms.

My wife is the perfect mother. She anticipates all the girls’ needs and keeps our home running smoothly.

“Here you go.” I make the baby switch, then walk over to lay my sleeping daughter in the plastic bassinet in the corner of Jules’ hospital room.

My heart might burst from the happiness slamming through me as I watch my wife attempt to feed the little pig.

“Teddy is going to be the troublemaker.” My little firecracker just jinxed the fuck out of us and there is no fucking way she’s calling my son Teddy.

I have no doubt her prediction is accurate. Theodore is the only one of our kids with bright red hair. Just like his mother. Holy shit. No telling what kind of trouble the male version of my wife can get into.

Sweat pours down my back as scary thoughts assail my mind. A knock on the door interrupts my minor freak-out. “Can we come in?” Tate asks from the hallway, and my wife covers her luscious tits before replying.

“Come in.”

While the women ooh and ahh over our gorgeous children, Tate whispers to me, “Goddamn. You have any single sperm?” The doctor and I both know that my wife’s stunning genetics are responsible for us winning the child lottery.

“Nope.” I shake my head. “And from the looks of it, I only had one boy swimmer.”

Tate smirks at my silliness. Lacking sleep and overcome with relief, I’m at my charming best.

After our friends leave, I call Diana, our middle-aged nanny, to check on the girls. I ask Diana to bring Marcie, Delia, and Isabelle to the hospital tomorrow to meet their new siblings, and she agrees. That gives us one night of quiet with the twins before the real excitement begins.