“Of course he can.” Seamus had himself together and was gazing at his son with pride. “Jake is a Finn, isn’t he?” Not biologically, but Tasha knew firsthand that blood wasn’t the only thing that mattered to this family.
Stephen’s brother choked up again when he picked Ned up in his arms. “They’re smaller than Penny was when she was born. So precious.”
Ned’s fist thrust out of his blanket again and a tiny hand curled around his uncle’s finger. “Strong grip,” Seamus laughed. “Ned might be a scrapper like his namesake. Or his Aunt Jen.”
Tasha grinned. “As long as he doesn’t pursue a life of crime I’ll be happy.”
Seamus met Tasha’s gaze with eyes so like his brothers—so full of love and pride—that she felt her breath catch. “You’d never let that happen. Not to these two angels.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
He glanced over at his brother. “I forgot how good newborn babies smell. It doesn’t last long, so enjoy it. And if you ever need someone to babysit…”
Tasha held up her free hand. “We’ll find someone else, because you’ll be in Ireland doing boring, manly things like making beer.”
Jake’s laugh was quiet but infectious. “Tough luck, Dad. You’ll miss out on all the fun.”
She hoped not. If anyone needed fun it was Seamus. Good, X-rated, completely adult fun that babies had no business being around. Her brother-in-law needed to shake off his case of the dads and remember what being single felt like. Her only fear was that he would stay in that brewery all day, surrounded by old Irish men and ignoring his baser urges.
Stephen took Ned from Seamus and winked at Jake. “That’s right. We’ll be here, up to our elbows in diapers and feedings and your poor father will be all alone on the other side of the ocean, waiting for us to call and share every detail.” He shrugged, but his eyes were sparkling. “Sometimes you just have to suffer through life’s trials and tribulations. In Ireland.”
Seamus sent his brother a look meant to silence him, then gestured subtly to Jake. “Let’s give them some peace before the next group of visitors come knocking.”
“I love you, brother,” Stephen said softly, the words thick with emotion.
“I love you too, Stephen. You did good.”
Tasha bit her quavering lip until they closed the door behind him and her husband looked back down at her.
“I love you too, you know.”
Stephen nodded, then narrowed his beautiful blue eyes. “More than three-cheese lasagna from Ruby’s?”
More than life. She nodded, lowering her lashes as he maneuvered Little Ned so he could brush his lips against hers. “I must be crazy.”
“Because you finally love me more than Italian food?” he whispered, sounding amused.
“Because I’m wondering how long we’ll have to wait before we can start working on another set.”
“About as long as I’ll have to wait to spank you for teasing me like that in front of the babies.”
This moment had been worth it. Every discomfort. Every day in bed and every frustrated tear had led to this. To them. Stephen, Ned and Patrick “Huck” Finn. Her boys. Like Seamus, she’d gotten so much more than she’d ever expected for Christmas. She’d just had to wait until January to open her gifts.