Undeniably Us [Torn Series]

By Pamela Ann

I once imagined the hardest thing a man could accomplish was getting the woman he loved to the altar. This view instantaneously changed, however.

Marriage by far wasn't easy—far from it. It was a boundless enterprise consisting of endless negotiations and compromises. Our marriage might be new, but we'd been through the troughs and over the hurdles.

Though fate had dealt us a harsher hand prior to our marital union, I believed my wife and I would overcome whatever tribulations were given to us.

We'd come a long way. … We'd come too far to let misfortunes separate us.

We were stronger together, weaker when apart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pamela Ann
• Release date: May 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393533375

Pamela Ann

is a New York Times and USA Today Best Selling Author. She studied Fashion Marketing in United Kingdom and has a degree in Business. She has a penchant for pastries, dogs, renaissance paintings, steamy angst-filled novels and traveling.  Get personal notification through your email when Pamela Ann has something new coming out. Join in on special two-chapter previews for upcoming releases, giveaways, current promos, announcements & more. SUBSCRIBE FOR THE NEWSLETTER HERE: http://eepurl.com/PnuMj YOU CAN ALSO FOLLOW HER... Website: http://pamelaannbooks.com Blog: http://pamelaannbooks.blogspot.com Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pamela.annauthor Twitter: https://twitter.com/PamelaAnnAuthor  

Book preview

Chapter One

Bass

They said unconditional love could be felt the moment your eyes caught sight of one’s child. The life-altering experience consumed me in one hasty moment. I felt it all. In that swift instance, my life changed forever. Indescribable emotions ran through me, transforming me from being a married man to a father.

A father.

A parent … a weighty word that entailed more than just a title. To be my son’s protector demanded continuous undying commitment. His guide. The very person to instill a moral compass, but above all, the person to show and teach him how to properly love, respect, and value himself and others around him.

All the insecurities I harbored, questioning if I was to end up like my reckless absentee of a father, had all been extinguished the second my eyes caught sight of those sleepy little blue eyes gazing back at me. Seeing him swaddled in a blue and white striped baby blanket, my heart erupted from elation and overwhelming joy.

Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Cole. He’s just so precious, the smiling nurse cheered as she cautiously handed me my son.

Infinite euphoria seized me as I held my son for the very first time. It was this very moment where the world stood still, and all of my undivided attention zoned in on the tiny bundle of joy.

Ten fingers.

Ten toes.

One cute button nose and a smaller version of my lips.

My son.

My beloved son.

There was no mistaking who’d fathered him. He had nothing of Emma’s. Even the particular shade of his blue eyes, he was mine through and through.

He looks exactly like you, a Bass junior, Emma drowsily murmured as she lovingly smiled at the men in her life.

My wife lay flat on the operating table, her face a combination of elation, exhaustion, and satisfaction. There was a jubilant look about her tired pallor, but the massive grin spreading across her face proved just how relieved she was that the operation had progressed without any complications. The steady stream of tears sliding down her temple warmed my heart. Gently, she brushed the back of her forefinger across his soft, chubby cheek.

Hi, little man. Mom and Dad are so happy you’re finally here with us. Emma had the same awestruck expression as I did.

We both were overwrought before the delivery, but upon his arrival, all the worry immediately diminished. A proud, profound moment for Emma and me. We were delighted beyond measure.

Jagger had no idea just how much his arrival meant to us, enriching our lives. Before losing our first baby, we had no idea how profoundly we wanted to be parents. Now there we were, a year later, a solid family of three.

Thank you, moro mou … thank you. I kissed her softly, passionately, grateful and indebted to her for the beautiful priceless gift she’d given me.

This pregnancy had put us through the wringer. My ever-forthcoming wife had unfortunately failed to mention she had placenta previa—a complication where a part of her placenta had inserted itself in her uterine segment. Had I known this life-altering fact, I’d have stood my ground and wouldn’t have allowed her to fly across the Atlantic to attend Lindsey’s wedding in Greece. The very night she came back, the bleeding began, and we’d been vigilant since.

Her condition limited her movements. Lifting anything substantial was strictly prohibited. She had a severe order to rest as much as possible. A chef was hired to plan out her meals, a nurse to monitor her vitals and pre-eclampsia. There hadn’t been a day passed I hadn’t gone overboard with my overprotectiveness. Emma had accused me of suffocating her, but I cared not about her complaints. The no sex rule didn’t even faze me. I might’ve gone overboard, but I didn’t care. I needed to do something, so I did just that. I even did the nanny interviews myself, ensuring the two we hired were properly trained with great instincts and warmth. After going through over a hundred interviews, I finally found the perfect candidates. My wife and child were at risk; therefore, nothing mattered but their utmost safety.

Mr. Cole? Dr. Landis interrupted from behind me just before a nurse came to take my son away to be properly evaluated, ensuring our little bundle of joy was well and healthy.

Cautiously, I handed Jagger over to the nurse while the doctors informed Emma ’d operate on her before sewing her up.

Do you have a moment? Dr. Landis gestured, taking me to the corner of the room. Her usual serene, soothing appearance was somewhat nonexistent.

Before giving the doctor my undivided attention, I kissed her warm forehead. I’ll be right back, my love. Smiling down at her, I gave her a reassuring glance just as a nurse came to her side.

Stiffly walking towards the end of the room, past the divider and Emma’s hearing distance, my nostrils flared as I breathed in, and my pitter-pattering heart merely escalated at the grim expression the doctor threw me.

I rigidly nodded, nervous all of a sudden. If something happens to Em …

No, don’t go there, idiot.

Positive thoughts.

She’s great. Jagger looks great. We’re all great.

My throat bobbed up and down. Swallowing saliva to coat my esophagus became a hardship. Everything’s good, right? I managed to finally ask, feeling like a total pussy for not confronting the doctor head-on.

Doctor Landis bit the side of her lip before shaking her head. "Yes … and no."

Fuck. The no part had me on edge.

My heart hammered against my chest. My temples throbbed. My entire body tensed as I anticipated for her to continue, but it seemed she was giving me the option of which news I’d be willing to hear first.

It did little to my already chaotic mind.

Knowing how my mind would ceaselessly torture me if I didn’t address the issue, I manned up and squarely gazed into her considerate eyes. Give me the bad news.

She made a curt nod before sliding her hands into the pockets of her white jacket. I was an actor, and even though I acted for a living, I knew this gesture. It was what doctors did to make them seem professional, more detached before the big blow.

The stomach churning intensified as I openly pleaded with my eyes.

I am sorry. This is all my fault. Even with advanced technology, sometimes life gives us surprises and miracles happen … and in this case, it failed to flourish. I don’t know how to say this, but I should’ve run more tests to prevent such things from happening … but with her condition, it became a challenge. Eyes sorrowful, her face contorted with regret. Mr. Cole, your wife … She had twins, but the smaller baby, your baby girl, was tucked behind her twin—

"Twins? Where’s—"

She’s smaller than the boy. I believe the severe bleeding, the lack of ultra-sound and close monitoring, along with other complications, contributed to the cause of her death.

My heart stopped. My entire world halted as the doctor’s words sunk into me. Slowly. Deafeningly.

Cause of her death.

Death.

My child is dead, she said.

The words kept swirling in my head. They echoed so loudly I felt dizzy. All the soaring, all the blissful elation consuming me seconds ago, had all but vanished. My ears rung. My world spun. It kept spinning and spinning while I reeled from the shattering news the doctor had just disclosed.

A baby girl.

Twins.

My baby girl was dead … and we couldn’t save her.

Fuck.

My throat constricted. My eyes stung. They instantly filled with moisture, and I had to immediately look away, stunned by it all. Oh, fuck. How could this have happened? Why did none of the tests show that Emma had been carrying not one but two babies?

And now it’s too late to save her life …

"Does my wife—does she know?" From the looks of it, she hadn’t seemed to, but I had to make sure. Emma hid her placenta previa, she could easily have hidden this from me, too.

The doctor shook her head, squashing whatever spouting doubts I’d had seconds ago. No, I could tell her, but if you prefer to tell her yourself, I’m always here to help and answer questions you two have. She stated in a somber manner. Again, I am so sorry for this error.

Emma had missed appointments. She had done quite a long list of things pregnant women shouldn’t even be considering. This could possibly be the doctor’s fault, as well as Emma’s. But blaming anyone for my daughter’s demise wouldn’t solve anything.

I … What would I tell Emma? The question plagued me. This will undoubtedly destroy her just as it had with me. But mothers took it much differently than fathers. Their feelings were intrinsic on another level. She’d certainly blame herself. If that happened, what about our baby boy? Would she love him the same? All these troubling questions kept piling in my head with no answers to satisfy them.

I felt desperate. Heartbroken. Yet whatever it was I was feeling had to be set aside. My family came first—my priority. Always.

My family. Our little unit had barely just begun, and we were already faced with something no parent should ever feel.

My reluctant eyes flitted towards where Emma was positioned. The IV drip stood right behind her as the nurse checked on her vitals. My wife looked dog tired, drained from complete exhaustion. Adding this earth-shattering revelation would send her spiraling to a place that I might not be able to control … Lord knew she had been unforgiving to herself after she’d miscarried our first child, and now this … It terrified me to even conceive where this devastation would take her.

Seeing I was the man of our little family, it was my job to protect them . The job also insured I make tough calls, and in this instance, it was surely a challenging decision.

Directing the doctor a pleading yet severe stare, I ground my stance on one of the hardest decisions I had faced in my life. I’d prefer to tell Emma myself. Please, for her sake, don’t mention a word. Inform the nurses, as well. It’s the least you can do for us. We’ve been through so much— We won’t be able to overcome this, my mind finished since the words got stuck in my throat. My hand flexed as I tried to control the emotions rolling off me, seizing me from properly functioning.

The doctor’s pitiful gaze did little to ease the pain in my chest. Nothing would be able to ease it. I knew that much. I hope you understand … She’s in a delicate stage. When the time is right, I’ll tell her, but that moment isn’t right now … Give us time to adjust. We have a son to care for, and we must put him first. He needs his mother now more than ever, so I beg of you, let me handle this in our own time, away from here ... and when we’re a little bit stronger to face it together. This was my full intention, but when the time was right. Tonight wasn’t the moment to break her heart.

As a doctor, I highly don’t advise this. She paused, and the crow’s feet next to her brown eyes deepened as she bore a grave expression, sympathetic to my decision. But as a wife and mother myself, I understand where you’re coming from.

My wife’s mental health was vital for this family to survive. After seeing her suffer during and after the miscarriage, I wouldn’t risk that rotten road again.

Once she’d recovered and was out of the post-partum depression risk, I would tell her of our departed baby girl.

So, as I strode back to hold my wife’s hand, my eyes travelled across the room, towards the glass partition, where I knew for certainty my dead baby girl was dead and cold as the night.

They had distracted us with Jagger. We hadn’t realized what truly was going on behind those knowing yet quiet silent gazes.

The shock hadn’t worn off. The secret felt heavy to bear, but it was a cross I must endure for all our sakes.

And I knew, once they wheeled Emma back into her room to recuperate, I’d stay behind to see my little angel for the first and last time.

Saying goodbye to one’s child was a harrowing experience. As a new father, nothing could ever prepare me for this heartbreaking, heart-gutting moment.

No parent should ever know the heart-shattering loss of losing one’s child, no matter the circumstances.

This was a crippling punishment. No matter our sins, my wife and I didn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be one of our greatest joys. How could life be so cruel to overshadow such a joyous moment for us, granting us new life yet rooting death within our hearts.

Chapter Two

Bass

Emma, my dearest wife, sweet as she was, could be downright stubborn when she wanted something done her way.

So here we were, a day after welcoming our son, who she had just randomly decided to name Jagger Mason Cole after I had vehemently ground my stance against naming our son Mason after her best friend and, of course, her notorious ex. How could one forget such a fun fact ? It seemed my reservations—and there’d been many—weren’t deemed of such importance because, as she succinctly put it, this was her last wish and testament.

Here I sat at the edge of the hospital bed, gazing at my beautiful family, rendered speechless yet again.

I mean, how did one just randomly manage to inject one’s ex in their son’s name? I was fucking unheard of. It was highly unusual, most especially after how things had unfolded between us and her bastard, relentless ex. Okay, maybe I felt a little sorry for him, but what the hell? All was fair in love and war, and I had won. He had lost. Game over.

Or so I had thought …

Today, I was battling another monster altogether.

Is it really a battle when you know you’ve already lost before it even began?

It was a lost cause, and I knew it.

Feeling slightly despondent, my attention drifted to my son who was sleeping soundly on Emma’s side. Jagger’s small, puckered, pink lips and puny little hands rubbed together, melting my heart all at once. The little man instantly snoozed after his tummy was satisfied.

Both unexperienced with burping techniques, Emma and I took turns trying to get him to do so. The immeasurable fulfillment I felt after I had successfully done it was indescribable. Though a small task, it had brought me so much joy. My eyes were glued to him. I stared at him in utter wonderment, amazed and in awe of just how much I already loved him. For the life of me, I couldn’t stop looking, gazing at this new creature in my life. Every time I caught sight of him, my body warmed, overwhelmed by this immense feeling of protectiveness and profound love.

He truly was my little bundle of joy. My beautiful angel. My little man. God, I couldn’t wait until we’d played sports and all sorts of things a father and son bonded with. I was going to spoil him rotten. There was no question about it.

The blissful blanket I’d been cocooned in since seeing my son for the very first time had all but diminished after the nurse had come back to check on Jagger half an hour ago. Along with her was a stack of paperwork to fill in. However, one stood out amongst the rest—the form for my son’s official name.

Back to the present conundrum at hand, I dragged my gaze away from our son and back to his defiant mother.

Emma … Must you really insist on this? My eyes lingered on my exhausted wife, who’d just given birth via C-section thirty-six hours ago. I didn’t want to seem inconsiderate, but we were discussing Carter bloody Mason. How could I not?

Emma paused, tilting her head as she gently gazed at me. We went over this yesterday, babe. Please give me this one favor, and I’ll be forever grateful for your generosity, she smiled before reaching for my hand, pressing it softly on her cheek. How about we make a deal? she instantly perked up, cornflower blue eyes glinting at me mischievously.

Emma Anderson-Cole was aiming for my heart, and she knew just how to go about achieving it without much effort. All she had to do was bat those beautiful lashes at me, and I was all hers.

Reluctantly, I let out a sound before half-sitting next to her side, taking over the tiny space at the edge of the hospital bed. Okay, let’s hear your amazing idea. Without needing to ponder it, I just knew she was going to pull out a good bargain.

This was my wife, my wicked wife. She was born specifically to drive me berserk, and I was utterly, hopelessly in love with my naughty blonde bombshell.

Her corn blue eyes lit up, and she started sniggering. "A pass—not a cheating pass, she distinctly emphasized, But a pass for something huge, life-altering, monumental. Kind of your-life-is-about-to-implode huge. When the time comes, I swear on Mother Earth, to God, to my purest of heart that I’ll be the most understanding, accommodating wife a man could ever have. Instead of yelling and probably wanting to gouge your eyes out, we’ll sit through it and discuss it like normal folks do, and you know how I am … She droned on before pointedly adding, I’m irrational and would most likely move out with the baby just to punish you, and knowing how you don’t normally think things through, this could be beneficial for you, just sayin’. She arched a brow. Do we have a deal, or do we have a deal, my big bad BC?"

Her use of double entendre was cute, but was it cute it enough to convince me Carter Mason should be honored in such a way? This was our baby, the most precious thing in our lives.

Have you thought this through? I heavily exhaled. Our son deserves better than this, Emma. How will you explain it to him when he someday asks about his name’s meaning and origin?

I’ll answer it with honesty. She kissed the inside of my hand faintly. Tenderly. As if it was the most precious thing to her. Think whatever you like, but he was there when I was alone and pregnant. I owe him a great deal, but I repaid his kindness by breaking his heart, Bass … I’ve found love, but it came at a high cost. To this day, the guilt eats away at me. I know it’s a lot to ask, but naming our little Jag after him will remind me to never take you guys for granted … a beautiful reminder of our journey, heartbreaking as it was, how much it took for us to get here … I get you don’t understand, and maybe you never will, but I’m asking you to do this for me regardless of your ill-feelings towards Carter.

No rational man could fathom her reasoning, but as she had graciously pointed out, my understanding behind her reasons wasn’t valid. She was pleading for my love for her to trust her to do this one not-so-small and yet telling gesture.

Our friends were bound to arrive in an hour, and quite frankly, arguing with Emma was the last thing I wanted.

So, as a concerned father and doting husband, what options did I have? None, not when my wife looked as though she was ready to take me on. And in her delicate state, I knew better than to provoke a fight. Although Emma portrayed calm and happy, I wasn’t fooled by her tenderness. The burning blue fire sparking in her depths stated just how much she was willing to see this through, and she didn’t intend to back down. After enduring an excruciating pregnancy and birthing process, would it really kill me to grant her wish?

After all, wasn’t I harboring a huge secret? Would it be enough to compensate for hiding the truth?

My secret … It was rotting deep within me. My heart hurt. It ached at the thought of our tiny little angel. Welcoming Jagger had come with a gargantuan price tag. Our nameless dead daughter, one I had yet to make arrangements for.

While Jagger was my miniature doppelganger, our daughter was Emma’s. It would’ve been nice to have had our daughter with us, but fate had intervened and changed its fickle mind. How could I comprehend such tragedy? Balancing appearing happy and silently mourning our daughter weighed on me. If I laughed and smiled at Jag for a minute, my smile turned into a solemn frown the moment my daughter’s pale lifeless face flashed before my very eyes.

Maybe granting Emma’s wish was the least I could do. After her miscarriage last year, Emma wouldn’t take this news lightly.

Could I possibly risk endangering her mental well-being and physical health when she hadn’t recuperated? The answer was a flat-out no. She might end up loathing me for keeping the truth, but I was doing this for her—for Jagger. My son needed his mother more than anything. I’d rather welcome her wrath than chance Emma sinking into depression. The repercussions were indisputably too high to risk it. It was a tough call, but one I had to make.

With my mind set, I pressed my lips together. I could feel my heart tightening a little before I found myself reluctantly saying, All right, go ahead … As long as you remember your promise about being ‘the most understanding, accommodating wife a man could ever have,’ then we have a deal.

That gorgeous face I adored so much lit up, brightly beaming at me. Really? she shrieked, quite surprised I was giving in to her wishes without much of a fight.

Maybe just this once … Carter had won. But all’s well if it ends well, right?

I let out a sigh before leaning over to kiss her. Yes, really, I said, my gaze gravely boring into her ecstatic one. Varying emotions quelled in my chest, making me conscious of how greatly my decisions would affect us later down the road. I love you, Emma. My somber tenor equally reflected what I couldn’t vocalize.

Missing the sad note in my voice, Emma planted both hands on the side of my head and left chaste kisses all over my face. I love you. Kiss. I love you. Kiss. I love you so much, BC.

Her love healed the ache in my chest for a short while as the chaste kisses deepened, turning it into a fullblown make-out session.

My cock instantly lurched, delighted, awakened from its lengthy hibernation. It’d been months since we’d had proper intimacy. We had avoided deep impassioned kisses since she was prohibited from being stimulated in any shape or form, so this titillating kiss was a nice surprise.

Emma, I rasped out. It was nothing but a word, and yet it conveyed all the ache and tension within me, the deep-seated need for her love, her touch.

It was the most inopportune time to get aroused, but after months of self-love, anything triggered me. Emma’s simplest smiles … a soft touch … a lingering look … Like I said, anything sparked my engine. My cock had its own mind. Pathetic really, but hell, I could only control so much.

Jagger made a gurgling noise, saving me from further embarrassment. Within a heartbeat, the little guy had our undivided attention. His tiny blue eyes peeled open, curiously gazing at us before the tiny mouth parted to let out an ear-piercing cry.

We both chuckled as I helped Emma situate Jagger in the nook of her arm. Automatically, Emma tugged at her hospital gown to free a breast.

Do you mind getting a burp cloth? she asked without glancing my way.

I was on my feet before she’d finished asking. After plucking one from the stack we had brought in, I was by their side in a heartbeat. Emma was having a hard time letting Jagger latch on to her. It seemed the more Emma guided him, the more frustrated he became. It was like watching them play an uncomfortable game of tag.

Although Emma remained calm and cooing, Jagger had no intention of listening to his mother. His newly-formed mind responded to fundamental instincts. Hunger being the prevalent one, Jagger demanded replenishment pronto, and it seemed being coaxed to his food source without success downright frustrated him.

Sweetie, please, Emma murmured as she positioned him at a different angle. Come on, my love. I know … I know you’re hungry, she cooed, looking somewhat frustrated as she tried to settle the baby. Shhh … We’ll just have to find a way to do this, right, Jag? Help mommy a little, my love .

Our son responded with more shrill cries, red, irritated as the gnawing pangs of hunger heightened with each passing second.

Emma bit down on her lip, getting discouraged by Jagger’s lack of engagement. What am I doing wrong? Should we get the nurse again? She quickly glanced at me, mystified.

We’d called in one each time we had fed him, but we had to figure this out somehow. We were bound to leave the hospital soon. It was best we got accustomed to trying new ways to feed and appease little Jagger.

My wife stared at me as though I held the keys to the kingdom. I knew right then that I should’ve read more how-to books on feeding instead of going through scripts these last several days. Some great guy I was.

Babe, okay, we’ve got to figure this out, I murmured, bewildered as I gazed at mother and son.

He looks uncomfortable. Here, maybe we should loosen the swaddle a little … There you go, little master. I assisted the best as I could, but Jagger’s escalating screams made me anxiously think quicker. Can you try your other breast? Maybe he’ll like that one better … I softly suggested, eyeing my family helplessly. Trial and error, right?

Emma had been using the left breast since it produced more milk, but what was the harm in trying the other? Maybe it would be much more comfortable for Jagger.

Tucking a pillow on her other side of the body, I gently took hold of our little tot. You’re a hungry little terror, aren’t you? Jagger’s famished cries made my grin widen. Mommy’s ready to feed you. Okay, bud? We’ll work this out together … After gently placing him back down in Emma’s other arm, Jagger parted his puny mouth, and Emma gently led him towards the leaking nipple. This time, the little monster latched on to it.

There you go! Someone’s just sick of having the same old, same old, eh? I laughed at my son. This little booger was going to be a handful. I already knew it.

Emma winced before making a sharp hissing sound. "Holy hell! This guy is sucking it as if he hasn’t been fed in days. Owww! Oh, my god!"

I could only imagine how it felt. It was these moments I was grateful I was a man. The things women had to go through, fuck that. I couldn’t fathom it all.

I inwardly winced as I scrutinized the painful expression playing across her face. It hurts that bad, babe?

Yes! Holy guacamole. This is the first day … but—she grimaced again—is there like some nipple numbing cream to heal it in between feedings?

Why ask when you have a vast knowledge on that particular subject?

Bass! She glared at me before chortling. You dirty-minded weirdo! Not those kind, but the mommy kind. Will you please get me some? I’m sure they have something. The lanolin cream isn’t helping. I need something to numb it.

My jovial demeanor grew serious. Em, numbing creams wouldn’t be the best for the baby.

You’re right. She pressed her lips as she looked at Jagger’s moving lips, eagerly extracting as much milk as he could. He’s so beautiful and unbelievably strong.

I winked. It’s a Cole family trait.

She rolled her eyes playfully. Sex has got your mind askew.

I’m nothing but a man … It’s that obvious, huh?

Don’t worry, babe. Emma threw me a kittenish smile. I’ll take care of you …

Bloody hell. A smile—a mere bloody smile—and my cock roused from its endless hibernation. Emma … Emma … Don’t make promises you can’t keep.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. I guess we shall see, hmm? she teased, leaving me with an overstimulated imagination.

We shall, I desperately rasped out, left wondering as my wife reverted her focus to our son, whose eyes were shut as he fervently filled his tiny tummy. He was the perfect picture of a calm angelic baby. Yet it had been mere moments ago when the little monster had terrorized us for food.

I still can’t believe we made him … she murmured, overwhelmed by love. You’re so beautiful, Jag … just like Daddy. I pray you won’t leave a string of broken hearts like he did, though.

Hey! Enough bad mouthing me to my kid. I can’t help being a lovable guy.

She rolled her eyes. He’s full of himself, too.

I was about to make a smartass retort when a loud knock came through, and Trista’s loud voice reverberated into the room. Where’s our spanking brand-new tater tot?

Taylor came right behind her. It was ten in the morning, but that never deterred Trista. The woman seemed to have an endless supply of boundless energy. I had no clue how my best friend kept up with her, but he somehow did.

Hey, fellas! I greeted the newcomers with quick warm hugs before getting out of the way so they could greet Emma and meet our new cute addition to the family.

Trista ran towards the bed, bypassing me with a quick slap on the arm, before giving my grinning wife a tight hug. Emma’s finally a mommy! At last. I’m so fucking happy right now. The redhead then cooed at Jagger, who seemed too oblivious to care about anyone as he continued to eat. Oh, my god! Look at you, baby Jagster! she gasped. You’re like Bass Cole 2.0! Trista had tears in her eyes as she pulled