Free Whats-In-A-Name by Roxie Rivera Page A

heart swelled in his chest, thumping against his ribcage, and he wondered what the hell he had done to be this lucky.
    They shared a quiet, knowing smile before turning their gazes back to their children. He finally managed to get his daughter dressed. Remembering the way his mother-in-law had taught him, he swaddled her in one of the blush pink receiving blankets Yuri and Lena had given them before carefully, gently, lifting her into his arms. He cradled her protectively and nuzzled the top of her head, brushing his lips against the soft tuft of dark hair crowning her head. He inhaled the sweet scent of his myshka before pressing a loving kiss to her cheek.
    He settled into the rocking chair next to the bed and enjoyed the fatherly moment. Even after she fell asleep, he continued to rock her. He couldn’t stop staring at her beautiful little face. There was so much of Bianca in her, but he could see a little of himself there too.
    "What are you thinking about?" Bianca wondered, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She rubbed her thumb along their son's jaw, coaxing him to continue nursing in the hopes it would encourage her milk supply to increase.
    "I'm thinking that I never thought I could ever love anyone as much as I love you," he answered honestly. "But now I see I was wrong. It's a different kind of love," he added, "but it's strong."
    "Unconditional," she said. "It's unconditional love. It's complete and whole and protective love."
    He nodded. "Yes."
    "I liked Aleksandr. From your list of names," she explained. "It's a good name for a boy."
    Secretly, he was pleased she liked that name. It was the one he had wanted most for his first-born son. "We'll have to spell it the American way so it's easier for him in school."
    "All right." She hesitated. "What about his middle name? Are we going to do it your way?"
    He huffed with amusement at the memory of that conversation. A few weeks ago, he had tried to explain the Russian naming conventions and had only succeeded in confusing the hell out of her. "No, I don't think Sergeyevich and Sergeyovna would be very good for middle names. Not in Texas, at least," he added with a grin.
    "No," she agreed sadly. "But we should make sure they know what their names would have been like if they had been born in your country."
    "They'll know," he assured her. They had already decided the children would be raised bilingual and immersed in both cultures. That wouldn't be difficult to accomplish with Dimitri and Nikolai's children so close in age to the twins. Vivian had jokingly suggested painting Moscow murals on the walls of the playroom she had decorated at the home she shared with the boss for their future playdates.
    Hoping Bianca wouldn't cry, he cleared his throat and offered the first name he had been considering for their son. "Bradshaw, Bianca. His first name should be Bradshaw and his middle name can be Alexander."
    She lifted her surprised gaze to his face. "Bradshaw? But—"
    "You're father and brother are gone. You're the last Bradshaw. It's right for our son to carry on your family's name."
    She bit her plump lower lip to squelch the wobbling that he could easily see. "Thank you, Sergei." Looking down at their son, she murmured his name with an amused smile, "Bradshaw Alexander Sahkarov. That's quite a mouthful."
    He snorted with laughter. "Sounds pretentious, yes?"
    "No, it's perfect. It's a strong name for the strong man he'll be someday. But—maybe we should give him a nickname? Alex?"
    Sergei shook his head. "Sasha."
    "Sasha," she happily repeated. "I like that."
    "Good. That's done. Now we get to name you, myshka ." He grazed his fingertips across their daughter's wispy hair. "Your top choice for her was Isabella. My top choice was Irina. Can we compromise? Isabella Irina?"
    Bianca grinned. "I like that." Her loving gaze fell on their daughter. "Bella."
    "Bella," he agreed and tucked her in a little tighter to his chest.
    "Sasha and Bella," Bianca murmured