Page 3 of The Sinner's Son

“And then I shoveled the rice and beans into my mouth like it was my last meal,” Royce said. “I need to finish setting up for the open house tonight, but all I want is a Gas-X pill and a nap.”

Sawyer snorted, and it must’ve acted as a valve release because the pressure in his chest eased slightly. “Can’t believe you’re comparing our baby joy to indigestion and heartburn.”

Royce unbuckled his seat belt and leaned across the console. “Two things can be true at the same time.”

Sawyer freed himself also and met his husband halfway, cupping Royce’s face. “Youmake me incredibly happy. You’re the reason for my surging joy and the overstuffed feeling, not because I ate too much for lunch.”

Waggling his brows, Royce pressed his lips to Sawyer’s. “Stuffing you is my favorite thing to do.”

Sawyer groaned and lowered his head to Royce’s shoulder.

“What?” Royce cupped Sawyer’s neck and kissed his temple. “You set me up with your phrasing. Overstuffed? You lobbed that right over home plate and expected me to swing and miss? No way.”

Sawyer tilted his head back and looked to the heavens for help through the moon roof.

Royce laughed and pulled him into a tight hug that turned into a tender kiss. “Never change,” Sawyer said. “Not a single damn thing about yourself.”

“Because I make you happy?” Royce asked.

“The happiest.”

Royce gripped Sawyer’s tie to keep him in place. “And I stuff you like no one else ever has or ever will?”

Sawyer tilted his head to the side as if scrolling through memories of past lovers or considering future ones, until Royce growled his disapproval. “You’re the stuff my dreams are made of, and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone—past, present, or future. I love you, Ro. Having a baby with you just amplifies that emotion a thousand times. If I nearly stroke out from hearing her little heartbeat, what will it be like when we hold her for the first time? I might expire on the spot.”

Royce chuckled warmly and stroked his knuckles over Sawyer’s cheek. “You won’t. God, our Lil Plum is so lucky to have two dads who adore her so much already.” He pulled back andgroaned as if just realizing something. “She’s going to spend her entire life trying to escape our suffocating affection.”

Sawyer barked out a laugh and flopped back in his seat. “Do you know what’s worse than a helicopter mom?”

Royce pursed his lips and exhaled. “No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“Detective dads,” Sawyer said, then added, “Two of them.”

Royce pointed to Sawyer and to himself. “One. Two. I can do simple math.”

Sawyer playfully shoved his shoulder. “She’s going to leave for college and never come back.”

“We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t board a Greyhound bus when she’s fifteen,” Royce countered. “Or pull a Fred Flintstone and beat it out of here in her Little Tikes car with her chubby toddler feet. Do you know they make a pink princess cozy coupe? I damn near bought it last week.”

Sawyer placed a hand on his stomach. “I think I have indigestion for real now.”

“Christ, when did we become such joy killers?” Royce asked.

“When we discovered we were having Lil Plum. We’re so excited that it terrifies us.”

Royce looked at him with a crooked smile. “Are we going to change her nickname to a new fruit after every doctor’s visit?”

Sawyer shrugged. “Maybe.”

“What size will she be at sixteen weeks?” Royce asked.

“Avocado.”

Royce laughed. “Yeah, she’s getting a new nickname each month.”

“Pumpkin is the last fruit, and I might call her that for the rest of my life.”

“Awww.” Royce reached for his hand. “Maybe we shouldn’t fret about her trying to escape us before she’s drawn her first breath.”