“What’s the matter? Huh?” I cooed, cradling Andreas to my chest. As soon as I did his wails diminished to mini hiccups. “You’re such a faker,” I joked, bouncing him a little as I moved to the corner of his massive room where the light blue and wooden rocking chair sat. The room was lit by a soft light that the boys slept with every night. It allowed enough lighting for me to see my way around but wasn’t disruptive to their sleep.

“Your brother’s over there sleeping like a baby and you’re making all of this noise.”

Pressing a kiss to Andreas’ forehead, I stared down into his eyes that were the same color as his father’s. The twins looked even more like Aaron than Kyle did. But Andreas, I was certain had inherited his father’s demeanor. His little face was scrunched into what could be interpreted as a scowl, even though he snuggled deeper into my chest.

“Okay,” I sighed, grateful that the nightgown I’d chosen actually had buttons that secured it in the front. Usually, I left the buttons closed, opting to slip it on and off over my head. But Andreas was hungry as evident by the way his hand began fiddling with my shirt, his face searching for my nipple.

“You know you’re going to have stop this pretty soon,” I warned as if he could understand what I was saying. If he did, he obviously couldn’t care less because as soon as I released my breast he took to it without a care in the world.

I ran my hand over his silky soft, tight curls, as he stared up into my gaze while he fed.

“You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?” I laughed, then quieted down remembering a sleeping Thiers. “What am I saying? You’re a Townsend. Of course you’re going to be a handful,” I whispered.

Just then I lifted my gaze to the opened door, noticing a shadow. My eyes collided with Aaron’s as he stared at us from his position, arms folded over his chest. It was the same thing he always did when I was up with one of the children at night, even when I’d insisted he sleep because he had a long work day or needed to be up early in the morning. He always came to help or just watch over, especially when it came to handling Andreas.

While I couldn’t fathom a better father for our children, even Aaron had trouble getting Andreas to settle down some nights. Most of the time, he refused to be held by his grandparents, and especially not strangers. At times, it felt like Andreas was attached to my hip because he only wanted to be held by me. Whereas Thiers had weaned himself at eight months, I’d had to work to get Andreas to reduce his feedings to nighttime only.

I looked back down at Andreas who was fighting to keep his eyes open. He’d fall asleep soon, but I knew better than to pull him from feeding just yet. He’d scream the whole house down.