Mark had never in his life seen anything so perfect. The tiny face peered up at him, wrapped in a soft white blanket. The mouth, he swore, was all Billy Jo. She was so tiny, fitting in the crook of his arm, so fragile, so innocent. As she stared up at him, her eyes open, he knew she needed him to defend her, to protect her from everything.
“You counted all her fingers and toes?” Billy Jo was propped up in bed on her side with a blanket over her, and damn, she looked so beautiful.
“Look at her mouth,” he said. “I swear she’s going to have your personality. She’s perfect.” Mark leaned down with the baby cradled in his arm, his other around Billy Jo, and he pressed a kiss to her lips. “How’re you doing?” he said as he pulled back.
She reached up and touched his face, the beard he’d started
