With These Four Rings - Book Five: Wedding Bonus (Billionaire Brides of Granite Falls 5) (20 page)

There’s no greater joy than holding your own child in your arms for the first time,
Michael had said to him three times over the course of their friendship. Those words had come back to Bryce as he’d stood in that delivery room, cradling his own children in his arms just moments after they were born. He’d also remembered Michael chastising him about his obsession with his godchildren.
I appreciate everything you do for my children, Bryce, and it warms my heart to know that if anything should happen to me, you’d be there for them, and Lauren. Pretending they’re yours is good for them, but it’s not good for you. You need your own brood to carry on your family name. My children are Rogers. They will never be Fontaines.”

“I have my own brood, Michael,” he whispered with a smile. Eli and Elyse were Fontaines, part of him, flesh of his flesh and bone of his bones. His blood was running through their little veins, but it didn’t mean that he loved his godchildren any less. He loved all his children, and he would gladly lay down his life for each one of them.

He and Kaya had recently talked about having another child, and Dr. Walsh did promise that it would be different this time since the three factors that had put Kaya’s first pregnancy at risk had been removed from the equation—dealing with Lauren and Michael’s sudden and tragic deaths, changing her entire life and becoming a wife and mother overnight, and anxiety about being a despicable mother like Nadine.

In spite of Dr. Walsh’s optimism, to say he was concerned was an understatement. Bryce was petrified, for as much as he would love to create more babies with Kaya, losing her wasn’t worth the risk. He’d prepared himself to be content with the two they’d created from their love, and the three they’d adopted.

Bryce turned and stopped short when he encountered a mini replica of himself, standing just outside the shower stall, one hand stuck down the front of his blue and white Red Sox pajama pants, the other holding his favorite blanket, and a red fire truck at his feet. Bryce blinked the warm water from his eyes. “Eli.”

“Hi, Daddy,” his son said with a big grin. “You’re taking a shower?”

“Yep.” Bryce took a swift glance around, grateful that his daughter hadn’t joined her twin in his bathroom. “Where’s your sister?”

“With Mommy. They’re making breakfast.”

“Good.” Bryce stepped out of the shower, and the sprays immediately stopped. He reached for an oversize burgundy towel.

“Is that your penis, Daddy?” Eli pulled his hand from inside his pants to point at Bryce’s groin.

Bryce froze for an instant, then slowly pulled the towel from its rack and dabbed at the moisture on his face, deliberately not attempting to cover up himself too quickly. Eli had seen him naked several times before, but since he’d recently discovered his own penis, like all little boys his age, he’d been fascinated with it, and had been asking questions about the magnificent appendage that only boys owned.

Samantha had told them not to make a big deal out of his interest, and to answer all his questions as honestly as possible, and then subtly divert his attention to something else. She said the phase would pass. His parents told him that he was around Eli’s age when he’d found his.

“Yes, Eli,” he said, drying off the rest of his body, before wrapping the towel around his waist. “This is my penis.”
Last time I checked
.

“Does Mommy know you have a penis, Daddy?”

“I’m pretty sure she does.” Bryce cleared his throat and tried to keep a straight face as he gazed down at his curious son—a prodigy in his own right. Eli was way ahead of his sister who was born a full ten minutes after him, and weighed a pound and a half less than him.

It was as if he couldn’t wait to get out and start exploring the vast world around him. Elyse, on the other hand, had been in no hurry to leave the cushiony comfort of her mother’s womb, and once she did come out, she was quite content to remain totally dependent on anyone she could con for as long as she could. Eli had begun teething, crawling, walking, and talking months before Elyse, and he was already reading while Elyse was still stuck on recognizing letters and sounding out words. A good four inches taller than his twin sister, Eli seemed to be destined to be a giant like his father, while Elyse would be petite and dainty like her mother.

“Has she seen it?”

“What?” Bryce took a sharp turn off Memory Lane.

“Have you shown Mommy your penis?” Eli asked matter-of-factly.

All the time
. “Yep, she’s seen it,” he said as blasé as he could. He supposed Eli’s question stemmed from the fact that they’d spoken about exposing his penis in public—something he’d started doing when he first discovered it. Eli didn’t understand why he couldn’t show off something he was obviously proud of possessing.

“Does she like it?”

She keeps telling me she does.
“Yeah. I think so.” He clamped his mouth tightly to muffle the chuckle tickling the back of his throat.

“Why?”

Divert
. “Speaking of Mommy, what is she cooking for breakfast?”

Eli shrugged and spread his hands. “I don’t know. Eggs and toast?”

“That sounds good. I’m hungry. Are you?”

“I’m starving.” Eli rubbed his hand on his little tummy, and followed Bryce over to the counter. “Why is your penis so big, Daddy? It’s way bigger than mine.”

The boy was like a puppy with a kong filled with peanut butter
. “Because I’m a grown man, and you’re still a little boy,” he said crouching down to his son’s level, and staring into eyes that were as black as midnight. He rested his hands on his shoulders. “Don’t worry, yours will grow,” he added at Eli’s look of confusion.

“I don’t want my penis to grow, Daddy.”

“Why not?”

“Because my hands are too small and I won’t be able to hold it, and when I go pee-pee, it’ll be everywhere. Like
squushh
,” he uttered, waving his arms in the air like a live garden hose out of control. “Like Niagara Falls.”

Bryce couldn’t hold back his ripple of mirth. He pulled his son into his arms, fell back on the floor and laughed his heart out. Boy, did his baby boy have a lot of growing up to do.

“Is that funny, Daddy?” Eli asked with a little chortle of his own.

“Yes, that’s very funny. Probably the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long while.”
One of these days, I will have a field day recounting this conversation with you
. He rearranged the towel on his hips, picked Eli up and sat him on the counter. He inspected his little face judiciously. “Looks like you need a shave, young man,” he said, reaching for the tub of shaving gel on the counter. He covered his own chin and cheeks with the gel, and then gave some to Eli.

Bryce’s eyes misted as he watched his little replica imitate him.

“I love shaving with you, Daddy.”

“Me, too, son.” Bryce picked up his monogrammed Zafirro Iridium razor that Kaya had given him for Christmas last year. It was a limited edition, only ninety-nine made by the manufacturer when they first hit the market a few years ago. Kaya had made a special request that they make a replica toy one for Eli. With the name Fontaine Enterprises behind her, they’d scrambled to make her every wish come true. Bryce loved his expensive toy, and he loved his wife for presenting it to him, and for making one for their son. He placed Eli’s razor in his hand. “Ready son?” he asked, turning to their reflections in the wall-to-wall mirror.

“Ready, Daddy. Let’s do this. Man style.”

Twenty minutes later, dressed in a pair of jeans shorts and a T-shirt, Bryce hoisted his son over his shoulders and headed into the direction of the kitchen on the east side of the third floor, passing a trail of toys scattered about the floor on the way.

They had a full-time gourmet cook and tons of servants at their beck and call, yet when they’d been planning their home, Kaya had taken a page from Adam’s book and requested a kitchen on the third floor where she loved to cook breakfast for her family without servants milling about. They always had dinner together, and sometimes lunch in the formal dining room on the second floor. The private kitchen was also great when he and Kaya wanted to be naughty with whipped cream and fruits, warm liquid chocolate, edible panties and briefs, and whatever else their licentious minds could cook up. And like Adam, she’d added a waterbed for convenience. When not in use, it was hidden behind a retractable wall in the kitchen.

“I smell eggs,” Eli said, tightening his hands around Bryce’s head as they drew near to the kitchen.

“Me, too. And waffles, you think?”

“Yeah, undeniably!”

Bryce missed a step. “Undeniably? Where’d you learn that word?”

“From Jason. He’s smart.”

Bryce’s heart warmed at the mention of his adopted son, whom he loved just as much as he loved his own. Jason was turning into a responsible young man who looked out for his young siblings—all four of them. Michael and Lauren would be so proud of him.

“Do you know what ‘undeniably’ means, Daddy?”

“I have no idea, Eli,” Bryce replied, playing along.

“It means you can’t deny it. Like definitely.” He sniffed the air. “I definitely, undeniably smell eggs and waffles.”

“In that case, I undeniably smell them, too.”

“You learned a new word, Daddy. If you study your books really hard, maybe one day you’ll be as smart as Jason.”

“Maybe
.
” Bryce walked into the kitchen to find Kaya standing at the stove with her back to him and Elyse perched on one of her hips. Webster was lying at her feet next to some crayons and coloring books. His grandmother’s coffee maker chugged noisily on the counter.

“Daddy.” Elyse held out her arms as soon as she spotted him. “I want my Daddy.”

Kaya turned and smiled at him. “Finally. I thought you two might have skipped out on us. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Memories sent Bryce’s pulse pounding as his eyes feasted on the soft curves of her body under her white satin robe.

“Mommy.” Eli struggled off his shoulder and raced over to wrap his arms around his mother’s legs. “Daddy learned a new word.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s it this time?” She handed over Elyse to him then hunched down to gaze into her son’s eyes.

“Undeniably,” Bryce answered, pressing his daughter close to his heart as a different kind of love welled up inside him. Over the years, Bryce had come to realize that he could love his children with the same degree of depth and passion, yet feel paradoxically different about them. Daughters, he’d learned, had a way of wrapping their little fists around their fathers’ hearts, and squeezing, like no one else in the world could do. His love for his daughters was mushy and protective, while that for his sons was firm and robust.

“How’s my favorite girl?” he asked, kissing Elyse’s cheeks, and tickling her while she giggled and grabbed on to the front of his shirt.

“I thought I was your favorite girl.” Kaya pouted in mock hurt as she stood up, with Eli in her arms. “Seems like I was undeniably misled last night, and this morning.”

In response, Bryce kissed her lips, tasting her, feeding on her as the smell of eggs and waffles and ham, and Kaya, wafted up his nostrils.

“Daddy’s kissing Mommy,” Elyse whispered, clapping her little hands together.

“Daddy’s always kissing Mommy because Daddy loves Mommy. I love Mommy too.” Eli pushed his face between Bryce and Kaya.

“Kissy. Kissy.” Elyse dove in for hers, and soon all the Fontaines were kissing and sharing love and hugs.

Bryce had learned about healthy family living from Michael and Lauren, and even before them, from Alessandro and Arabella Andreas, whose home he used to visit with Adam when they were in high school. From observing those two exemplary couples, Bryce had learned that children who observed their parents showing affection for each other felt a whole lot more secure and were a lot happier than those who didn’t.

Neither he nor Kaya had that experience growing up, and so they had agreed to continue the tradition for his godchildren, and eventually for their own. All of his kids cheered whenever they saw him kissing their mother, even Jason who sometimes jokingly told them to get a room.

“Okay, guys, as much as I love these special moments, I have to finish Elyse’s oatmeal,” Kaya finally said, breaking away. “Make yourself useful and set the table,” she ordered Bryce before putting Eli on the floor and returning to her pot of oatmeal.

“Yes, Ma’am. Eli, can you help Daddy, buddy? Grab the mats.” As his son got the mats from a drawer, Bryce smiled into his daughter’s big brown eyes—her mother’s eyes—and brushed a handful of curly black hair from her face. “Will you try some eggs today, sweetheart?”

“No.” She shook her head from side to side. “They’re dirty, Daddy.”

Elyse used to love eggs until she learned where they came from. One children’s educational TV show, one rainy afternoon, one hen laying one egg, and his daughter’s perspective about the ultimate super food was changed forever—well, he hoped not forever. Bryce pulled some plates and bowls from a cabinet and handed them one at a time to Eli, who placed them on the mats.

“Just a little bit?” he asked Elyse as he reached into another cabinet for some glasses and mugs. “You can only eat oatmeal one way, but you can have eggs in many different ways—scrambled, boiled, poached, fried—”