had had his reasons—reasons he ended up dying for—but it had cost Talon, Joe, and Ryan. I thanked God my brothers were all healing and content now.
They’d all found true love, as well, and that helped too.
True love.
It seemed so elusive.
At least it was with Bryce Simpson. I knew what I needed to do. Get out there, like Jade had said. But not now. I was staying until Jade had safely given birth, and probably for a few months after that, unless Felicia returned or they hired a nanny.
So I’d be celibate for the next several months.
Not an issue.
At least that was what I kept telling myself.
“You want a snack?” I asked Dale.
He nodded. “I’ll get it myself.”
“Okay, sweetie.” I’d found it best not to hover with Dale. He seemed more content to be quiet and alone, and Melanie had assured me that was fine. Just let him be who he was, and he’d come around. He was most likely more of an introvert than his brother even before they’d been taken.
Jade was in her bedroom, sitting up, with a smiling Donny next to her babbling about his day at school. They made a beautiful picture. Jade was only my age, and she had an instant family. She was reveling in it. She adored those boys, and she was a born mother.
“Hey, Marj,” she said. “Thanks for bringing the boys home. I have some exciting news that I was just telling Donny.”
“What’s that?”
“Talon just got a call when we got home. The boys’ adoption will be final next week. We all need to go to Grand Junction and appear in the judge’s chambers, and we want you to come as well.”
“What for?”
“To be the boys’ godmother, of course!”
“What’s a godmother?” Donny asked.
“A godmother is just another person who loves you as much as Daddy and I do.” Jade gave him a hug.
I laughed. “And a godmother is another person who gives you presents.”
“So then I have three mothers?”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Jade said. “Your mommy in heaven, me, and Auntie Marj.”
“Cool! We should tell Dale. I’ll go get him.” He scrambled off the bed.
“He’s in the kitchen having a snack,” I said. Then, when Donny was gone, I turned to Jade. “I’m honored. Really.”
“Who else would I choose? I want you to be the baby’s godmother as well.”
Warm emotion rolled through me.
But Jade continued, “If I can carry the child to term.”
“Hey.” I patted her hand. “Where did that come from? Tal says everything is fine and what you went through is normal.”
“I know. I’m scared, though. Like majorly freaked-out scared.”
I hugged her, wishing I could think of something more comforting. All I could think of was, “You’re the strongest woman I know. You will get through this, and we’ll all have another wonderful addition to the family.”
She let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Me? Strong? I got humiliated at the altar, and I got over it. That’s not strong. Melanie. Ruby. They are strong women.”
I certainly couldn’t disagree. My two other sisters-in-law had both been through hell. Melanie had been kidnapped and left to die in a locked garage with a car running, and Ruby had survived an attack by her father and had been on her own since she was fifteen years old. They were amazing.
But so was my best friend.
“You can’t compare yourself to them.”
“I can. And look at Melanie now. She’s forty and is gliding through pregnancy. I’m at perfect childbearing age, and I’m having every problem in the book. I can’t do anything right.”
I pulled back and met her blue-eyed gaze. “Where is this coming from, Jade?”
“I don’t know. Well, yeah, I do. I talked to my mom on the way home from the hospital, to fill her in, and she told me how easy I was to carry.”
I had no great love for Jade’s mother, ex-supermodel Brooke Bailey. Merriam-Webster could have replaced the definition of “self-absorption” with a photo of Brooke, and it would be completely accurate. Seriously. Knowing her, she’d gushed about how amazing she’d felt—and looked—while carrying Jade, her only child. If she were in the vicinity at the moment, I had no doubt I’d punch her square in the nose.
“First, Brooke was younger than you are when she was pregnant with you. And second, who cares? You are not Brooke Bailey. I talked to Evelyn Simpson earlier today, and she said she was sick as a dog carrying Bryce. She was probably about your age when she was pregnant.”
“She