Chapter 1

“Erik?”

His head snapped up. The endless drumming of his fingers against the edge of the rickety plastic chair finally ceased. The waiting room had been filled with men like him, hours ago. But one by one, they’d bled away to the sound of their own happy news, and now only Erik remained. Watching the clock. Wondering why it was taking so long. Wondering what was wrong.

But the nurse was smiling.

“Congratulations, my love,” she said, and all the air in the room seemed to disappear. “You have a gorgeous little girl.”

He half-stood, then his knees buckled and he collapsed back into the chair like he was made of rubber.

“A girl,” he said stupidly.

A girl. His girl. He had a daughter.

“A girl,” he repeated, and the smile hurt his own face. “Oh my God, I have a daughter. I have a little girl!”

The nurse beamed right back at him.

“Would you like to come and see her?”

“Yes.” He pushed down on the chair. It creaked. “Uh. In a minute.”

She chuckled and came to take his arm. He dwarfed the nurse—Erik dwarfed most people—but she took his elbow in a firm grip and steered him like he were a lost kid.

“First one?” she asked as she bore him through the double doors into a wide, gleaming corridor.

“Yes.”

“Ooh, it’s a lovely thing, isn’t it?”

Erik made a strangled sort of noise. Absolutely nothing about the last twenty-four hours had been lovely. Andreas had gone into labour a week early. The promised caesarian had been suddenly dropped by the wayside, the midwife insisting on trying a natural birth first. Andreas had gone nuclear, and Erik didn’t speak Spanish but could guess pretty well that it wasn’t the kind of language Andreas had learned in church. And, of course, Andreas had been right. Twenty-one hours after they had arrived at the hospital, Andreas had been taken into theatre, still incensed.

And Erik had been kicked out.

Not even by the staff, but by Andreas. He hadn’t wanted Erik there. He didn’t want Erik to see him like that. He hadn’t wanted anyone there who wasn’t strictly, medically necessary—and Erik didn’t count. Erik had finally lost the bitter argument that had been going on for the last nine months.

But as the nurse drove him through another set of doors into a small ward, Erik stopped caring. He stopped caring about the rows, the awkward silences, the tirades of furious Spanish, missing that incredible moment, all of it.

Because there, there in a hospital bed, in brand new sheets and a brand new gown, was Andreas. The centre of Erik’s universe. His sarcastic sun. Awake. Shattered, but smiling. Fine.

And cuddled to Andreas’ chest, a baby. Their baby.

His sun, their baby. Pronouns had never sounded so good before.

“Hello,” Erik breathed, sinking reverently into the chair by the bed.

Andreas gave him an exhausted smile. He was collapsed back into a thousand pillows, and looked—even to Erik’s rose-tinted gaze—like shit. He had been cleaned up, but his hair was still wet from the sweat-soaked hours in labour. The usually wild, loose darkness was matted flat in grim knots. There were great shadows under his eyes, and the tell-tale huge pupils of heavy-duty drugs. His skin looked strange, almost like greaseproof paper, grey under the brown.

But he smiled, and Erik’s heart skipped a beat.

“You doing okay?” he whispered, leaning in.

Andreas didn’t move a muscle, but for those needed to accept the kiss.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” he said.

“You did great,” Erik breathed, finally looking down at the blankets in Andreas’ arms. “She’s finally here, on the outside where she belongs.”

“She’s definitely yours,” Andreas murmured sleepily, his accent thick with exhaustion. “Nearly ten pounds.”

Erik blinked. “But—but she’s tiny.”

The bundle in Andreas’ arms looked big, but it was all blanket. Erik could see the way the folds fell over his forearms. But inside, through a miniscule gap, he could see dark pink. A nub of a nose.

“Hold her, then,” Andreas said. “You’ve spent nine months trying to cuddle her through my stomach—give her one for real.”

“How?” Erik asked. “She’s too small. I’ll break her.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Here, dear, let me.”

The nurse swooped down, and Erik gawked as she hefted the blankets out of Andreas’ grasp like their new arrival was nothing more than a breakfast tray. Something that new couldn’t be held, surely? Something that fragile couldn’t be that—

Heavy.

He fumbled. Instinct had him copying her hold, Andreas’ hold, and shoring up the sudden leaden lump of weight. His hand curled awkwardly under something round, and it rolled. He sat back a little in the chair to look at her properly, and the blanket squirmed.