JAY JAY POV
The glowing red numbers on the nightstand read 12:00 AM exactly. The high-pitched, rhythmic wail of a hungry newborn pierced through the silence of our bedroom, cutting through my exhaustion like a knife.
Beside me, Keifer bolted upright before I could even find my bearings. We both leaned over the edge of the bed toward the bassinet tucked right against my side of the mattress.
"He's got a set of lungs on him," Keifer whispered, his voice thick with sleep. He reached down with practiced, gentle hands and scooped Kevin up. Even in the dark, I could see the silhouette of my husband cradling the tiny bundle against his bare chest, swaying slightly from side to side.
Kevin's little face was scrunched up, his tiny fists waving in the air as he let out another indignant cry.
"I think he's hungry, Jay," Keifer said, looking over at me with those brown eyes softened by the dim nightlight.
I nodded, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and reaching out my arms. "Bring him here. It's definitely that time."
Keifer carefully transferred him to me, making sure the blanket didn't tangle. As soon as I held Kevin close, his crying shifted into a desperate, rooting whimper.
"He doesn't waste any time, does he?" I murmured, adjusting my position against the pillows to start the feeding.
Keifer didn't go back to sleep. Instead, he propped himself up on one elbow next to me, his hand resting on my thigh, watching the two of us with an expression of pure, quiet devotion.
"Do you need anything?" he asked softly. "Water? A snack? I can go raid the kitchen."
"Just stay here," I whispered, looking down at Kevin's little head, the soft fuzz of his hair tickling my arm. "The silence is nice. Well, except for the loud eating."
"He eats like you," Keifer whispered, a teasing glint in his silver eyes as he watched Kevin enthusiastically nursing.
"I do NOT eat like that," I whispered back, feigning offense while trying not to shake with silent laughter. "I have grace. I have poise."
"Jay, I've seen you face-to-face with a plate of chocolate waffles after a long day," Keifer countered, his hand moving from my thigh to gently stroke Kevin's tiny, moving temple. "The determination is identical. The little guy has a mission, and nothing is going to stop him until that tank is full."
"He's just a baby, Keifer," I giggled softly, looking down at our son. Kevin made a tiny, satisfied grunt, his little communal fist uncurling against my skin.
"A hungry baby," Keifer murmured. He leaned his head against the headboard, his gaze never leaving us. "You know, I used to hate being woken up. I used to guard my sleep like a hawk. But now... standing watch over the two of you in the middle of the night? It's the most productive thing I've ever done."
"Better than a multi-million dollar merger?" I asked, tilting my head toward him.
"Infinitely," he said seriously. He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek. "In those meetings, everyone wants something from me. Here? I'm just 'Dad' and 'Husband.' It's the only place I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."
I felt a warm swell of emotion in my chest. Kevin finished his meal with a dramatic, milky sigh and drifted straight back into a deep sleep, his head heavy against my arm.
"He's done," I whispered. "Your turn for the burp cloth, Mr. Bodyguard."
Keifer didn't hesitate. He moved with surprising agility for a man who had been dead asleep ten minutes ago. He draped a burp cloth over his broad shoulder and carefully took Kevin from my arms.
"Come here, Little Boss," Keifer hummed. He began to paced the darkened room slowly, patting Kevin's back with a rhythm that was steady and sure.
I leaned back against the pillows, watching the silhouette of the most powerful man I knew—the man the world feared—softly shushing a tiny infant in the moonlight.
"Jay?" Keifer whispered from across the room.
"Yeah?"
"I think he just smiled at me."
"It's probably just gas, Keifer."
"No," he insisted, his voice full of wonder. "It was definitely a 'thanks, Dad' smile. I'm telling you, the kid has taste."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Keifer," I whispered, smiling as I pulled the duvet up.
He carefully settled back down on the mattress and laid Kevin in the center of our large bed, creating a safe little nest for him between us. Keifer was so focused, making sure the pillows were far away and the blankets were tucked just right.
Once Kevin was settled, Keifer slid under the covers. He stretched his long arm over our son, resting his hand firmly but gently on my waist. He was incredibly mindful of his strength, careful not to squeeze me too hard so he wouldn't disturb Kevin, but keeping his arm like a protective barrier around us both.
I turned onto my side, facing them. In the soft glow of the nightlight, I looked at Keifer. His deep brown eyes, usually so sharp and commanding in the boardroom, were soft and swirling with a warmth I'd only ever seen him show to me—and now, to our son.
"You're going to be a very overprotective father, aren't you?" I whispered, reaching out to brush my fingers against Kevin's velvet-soft foot.
"Overprotective?" Keifer huffed softly, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm already looking into background check services for any kid who tries to sit next to him in preschool. And don't get me started on Andi. That brat is officially on a watch list."
"Keifer!" I giggled. "He's only two weeks old."
"Exactly. That's fourteen days of me falling behind on his security detail," he joked, though I knew he was halfway serious. He pulled me half an inch closer, his hand warm against my skin. "Go to sleep, Jay Jay. I've got both of you. Nothing is getting past me."
"Goodnight, Big Keifer," I murmured, my eyes finally growing heavy.
"Goodnight, my Queen. Goodnight, Little Boss," he whispered back.
With our son safe between us and Keifer's steady, brown-eyed gaze watching over us, I drifted off into the most peaceful sleep I'd had since the day we brought Kevin home. For the first time, our family felt completely whole.
+++++++++++7 MONTHS LATER+++++++++++++++++++++
JAY JAY POV
I dropped the laundry basket in the hallway and hurried toward the nursery. Over the last seven months, I'd learned that a "Jay Jay!" shout from Keifer usually meant one of two things: either Kevin had done something adorable, or Keifer had accidentally broken a piece of high-tech baby gear.
I leaned against the doorframe, breathing a little hard. "What is it now? Is there a diaper emergency? Did he find your watch again?"
Keifer was down on all replace on the plush rug, looking completely ridiculous in his thousand-dollar suit trousers and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Kevin was sitting a few feet away from him, looking sturdy and bright-eyed, his hazel eyes fixed intently on his dad.
"No, no—just watch," Keifer said, his voice buzzing with excitement. He looked at our son with pure pride. "Come on, bud. Show your mom what you can do. Do the thing we practiced!"
I crossed my arms, a smile tugging at my lips. "The thing you practiced? Keifer, he's seven months old, not a circus performer."
"Just wait," Keifer hissed, then turned back to Kevin. "Okay, Kevin. Target is Mama. Go get her!"
Kevin let out a high-pitched, bubbly squeal. He wobbled for a second, planting his tiny palms into the carpet, and then—with a look of fierce Watson determination—he hoisted his little butt into the air and started moving. It wasn't the clumsy belly-crawl he'd been doing for weeks. He was up on his knees, moving his opposite hands and legs in perfect, albeit shaky, coordination.
"He's crawling!" I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth. "Keifer, he's actually crawling!"
"I told you!" Keifer cheered, shuffling backward on his knees to stay ahead of the baby. "He's been doing small bursts all morning, but he was waiting for his audience. Look at him go!"
Kevin reached the edge of my toes, looking up at me with a triumphant, toothless grin—two bottom teeth just peeking through.
I laughed, the sound bubbling up from my chest as I gathered our heavy, squirming seven-month-old into my arms. He felt so much bigger than that tiny bundle we had brought home from the hospital, his little body solid and full of energy.
"My baby, did you just crawl? Did you really do it?" I asked him, my voice high and full of wonder.
Kevin let out a bright, bubbly laugh, his whole face lighting up. He kicked his legs against my stomach and reached up, grabbing a handful of my hair with a triumphant squeal. He looked so proud of himself, those hazel eyes sparkling with mischief and achievement.
I leaned down and pressed a long, lingering kiss to his warm forehead. He smelled like baby lotion and pure joy.
"You're getting too fast," I whispered against his skin. "Soon I won't be able to catch you."
"Tell me about it," Keifer said, standing up and brushing the carpet lint off his trousers. He looked at the two of us, his brown eyes soft and filled with a quiet kind of adoration. "I turned my back for ten seconds to answer a text from Aries, and when I looked back, he was halfway across the rug. I almost had a heart attack. I thought he'd learned how to teleport."
Keifer walked over and draped a heavy arm around my shoulders, leaning in to poke Kevin's chubby cheek. "He's got my speed, Jay. We're going to have to baby-proof the entire estate. Again. Maybe put some padding on the walls."
"He doesn't need padding, he needs a trophy," I joked, settling Kevin on my hip. "And you? You look like you just won the lottery."
"Better," Keifer murmured, his gaze moving from our son's toothy grin back to my face. "I watched my son conquer his first mile. Even if it was only six feet of carpet."
I leaned into Keifer, enjoying the moment, but Kevin had other plans. His tiny, surprisingly strong fingers reached out and snagged a handful of my hair, giving it a sharp, enthusiastic yank.
"Ow! Kev, don't do that," I said, gently trying to prying his fist open. He looked me dead in the eye, gave a mischievous little huff, and immediately did it again, pulling even harder this time.
"Hey, hey, none of that. Hands to yourself, Little Boss," Keifer said, chuckling as he reached in. He skillfully uncurled Kevin's fingers from my hair and lifted the baby away from me.
Kevin let out an indignant "Ehhh!" as he was hoisted into the air, but Keifer just tucked him securely under one arm like a football, tickling his tummy with the other hand.
"You can't go around attacking the Queen, buddy," Keifer teased, his brown eyes dancing with amusement. "That's a fast track to being grounded until you're thirty. Besides, that's my wife you're messing with."
Kevin squirmed, his giggles returning as he forgot all about my hair. He patted Keifer's chest with his chubby palms, looking perfectly content in his dad's grip.
I rubbed my scalp, laughing despite the sting. "He's definitely your son, Keifer. He's already learned exactly how to get a reaction out of me."
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