Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

BONUS SCENE: 'TIS THE SEASON

TARA

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Why am I doing what?"

"What have I done to deserve this?"

"You said you wanted this."

"I said I wanted a baby."

"What the hell do you think you're holding?"

"Satan's spawn?"

"That's my godson, Jonathan. How would you feel if someone called our son or daughter Satan's spawn?"

"I don't know, baby," he wailed, his voice rising with panic. I could picture him—his face flushed, eyes red from tears, a complete mess of emotions. "Make it stop."

"I'm busy," I called out, barely paying attention to him as I turned my attention back to the screen where Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone was playing. I finally understood why Ciaran was obsessed with it. He always argued that Malachy was Hermione, I was Harry, and he was Ron.

Completely spot-on, I thought with a smirk.

He'd even gone as far as sending me a personalised Slytherin Quidditch jersey, which I had—shamelessly—doused in Jonathan's cologne. Sue me.

Of course, I wasn't entirely heartless. I'd gotten Jonathan his own Gryffindor Quidditch jersey with my surname and number stitched on the back. I wasn't that cruel.

I was snapped out of my musings when Jonathan, looking utterly frazzled, stood in front of me, blocking my view, holding AJ under the armpits like Rafiki with baby Simba, his face pale with helplessness.

"Help," he choked out, his voice raw with desperation. "I can't take it anymore."

Sighing heavily, I rolled my eyes and stood up from the couch, grabbing AJ out of his arms and walked to the baby room Edel had set up.

"Who's the cutest baby in the world?" I cooed, tickling AJ's belly as he let out a happy giggle. Gently, I laid him on the changing table. "You are, aren't you?"

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Jonathan gagged from the doorway the moment I unfastened the soiled diaper. "I'm blind. I'm actually fuckin' blind, baby."

"Get a fucking grip," I muttered under my breath, focusing on cleaning up my godson. I dabbed at AJ's rosy little bottom with a warm, damp cloth, humming softly to calm him.

"Almost done, baby boy," I whispered, my voice soft as I finished wiping him clean. "Just a few more wipes."

Once he was fresh and clean, I took a generous amount of nappy rash cream and rubbed it gently into his soft skin. "There we go," I said, patting his bottom lightly. "All fresh and clean."

"Here," Jonathan said, holding out a fresh diaper, looking like he was about to pass out from the stress.

"Thanks," I said with a quick kiss on his cheek. I carefully slipped the fresh diaper underneath him.

"All done," I announced, fastening the diaper securely before picking up my godson. I tossed the dirty nappy in the bin and passed AJ back to Jonathan. "Have fun with Uncle Johnny."

"No!" His eyes widened in horror as he followed me into the kitchen. "Don't leave me alone with him. I'm sorry, okay?" He pouted, his voice full of regret. "I shouldn't have said taking care of a baby was easy."

"You said you wanted a baby," I snorted, washing my hands and drying them with a rag. "Well, you've got one," I added, nodding toward AJ, who was happily drooling on his sweatshirt.

"I said I wanted a baby with you, not—Jesus Christ, AJ!" Jonathan grimaced, seeing the mess on his clean sweatshirt. He held the baby away slightly, his face a mix of exasperation and frustration. "This was a clean one, damn it."

With the rag draped over my shoulder, I walked back over to them and grabbed AJ, resting his little head carefully on my shoulder as I rubbed his back gently.

"I think that baby hates me," Jonathan muttered under his breath, heading for the utility room to toss his soiled sweatshirt in the wash.

"It's probably the rugby," I laughed, walking back to the living room. I flopped onto the couch, AJ still in my arms. "He's a Lynch. We don't like rugby. We've got a personal vendetta against people like you."

"People like me?" Jonathan returned with the Gryffindor jersey on, sitting next to me and pulling the blanket over both of us. "And for the record, I think Sean might be an excellent rugby player."

"I'll bury you before that happens," I warned, snuggling into my boyfriend, my voice a mock growl as I ran my fingers through AJ's soft hair.

Jonathan gave me a sly smile and grabbed the remote, hitting play again. "You love me," he murmured, leaning back and wrapping his arm around my waist, holding me close.

"Loving you and killin' you don't cancel out, genius," I said, eyes fixed on the screen where Ron wished Harry a Merry Christmas. "Just think I'd be the last thing you'd see before you closed your eyes forever. What's more romantic than that?"

Jonathan didn't answer but pressed a kiss to the top of my head, making me sigh contentedly. The room was warm, the Christmas tree lit up in the corner, stockings hung by the fireplace with our names on them, and the smell of chocolate and gingerbread wafted through the air. Simply put, it was perfect.

"This is nice," he said softly.

"Half an hour ago, you were sobbing because you couldn't handle changing AJ's diaper, and now suddenly everything's perfect?"

He frowned, a pout forming on his lips. "I was not sobbing."

I leaned in closer, my lips curling into a teasing grin as I looked at him. "You were."

The way he looked at me, all wide-eyed and impossibly cute, made it impossible to resist. Without thinking twice, I pressed my lips to his, a kiss so soft it almost felt like a breath. He looked so bloody adorable in that moment, I couldn't help but lose myself in him, my heart racing as if it were the first time.

When I finally pulled away, his eyes were still closed, and I caught the quiet, earnest look on his face. "I love you," he murmured, his voice low and sincere, the words spilling from his lips with such honesty that my chest tightened. "I wasn't lying when I said I want this with you, baby."

I felt a rush of warmth spread through me, like I was glowing from the inside out. A smile spread across my face, genuine and full of affection, as I looked at him, my heart swelling in my chest. "I want this with you too, Jonathan."

And it was the truth—every part of me, from the tips of my fingers to the deepest parts of my soul, wanted this, wanted him. I wanted every part of him: the laughter we shared, the quiet, stolen moments that spoke volumes, the chaos that came with loving someone as intense as he was, and the happiness we found together, just existing in the same space. I wanted everything with him. I wanted it all.

He was my heart.

Every beat, every breath, every thought.

He was mine, and I was his.