I opened my eyes to see Owen and Jay curled up in our bed. Jay was lying between us, dressed for the day with his little hands thrashing happily as he kicked his feet, while Owen lay on his side, his hand protectively resting on our son's stomach. I bent forward and kissed the top of his little bald head then carefully stretched over him to kiss Owen.

"Good morning." Owen smiled against my lips, grabbing the back of my head and holding me in place for a second kiss before releasing me.

"Good morning," I echoed. "This is a nice way to wake up, with my family beside me. Not to mention the fact that it’s a little odd to be the last to wake up for a change.”

Owen’s cheeks blushed a light pink, his eyes sparkling with happiness as he began to explain. "Yeah, this little man woke me up an hour ago. I got him changed and fed and changed again, but you were still sleeping so we decided we'd come see if Daddy was ready to wake up and come down to have breakfast with Papa. I made a pot of oatmeal, and we have some cranberries and walnuts we could add in, if you're interested."

I grinned when his stomach growled as he described the food. "That sounds like a fantastic breakfast, dear. Let me just hit the bathroom, and I'll join you."

"That sounds like a plan. I'm going to grab the diaper bag so we’ll have his supplies handy, then head downstairs with the baby. We'll see you down there."

We were halfway through breakfast when Owen's phone rang. He frowned at the screen and picked it up before setting it aside again as he let it go to voicemail. I glanced at his phone. "Do I want to know who that was that you just ignored?"

Owen huffed out a heavy sigh. "It was the gallery. Again. They keep calling and they've already sent me several emails, so it’s not like I don’t know what they want. I don't know how to give it to them, though, so I'm kind of avoiding them."

"Because that always works out so well." I smiled over the rim of my coffee cup and set it aside when I noticed the troubled expression on his face. "Hey, what's the problem? Can I be of any help?"

"Not really, nothing will help unless I learn how to paint faster. They want me to move the show up to March and…" He paused and shook his head, taking a sip of coffee as he gathered his thoughts. "I don't have time to do five decent paintings in seven weeks, and that's at least how many more I’d need to properly round out the show."

"Why do you need that long? You seemed to whip out those paintings you did for the Christmas gifts faster than that. Does it take more time for your gallery paintings?" I couldn't imagine why it would, but I was grasping at straws to understand what the issue was.

Owen frowned as he leaned back in his chair. "No, it's not the time the art takes. That's nothing. If all I had to do was paint every day, I could probably whip out twice that many pieces before March, depending on which medium I’m working with, that is. The problem is that Jay needs me. I can't spend all day lost in my work while I have an infant who needs to be taken care of, you know?"

"Sure you can," I readily answered. "You’ve got me, remember? I can take care of Jay while you paint. The best perk of working for myself means I don't have to report to a boss. And quite honestly, the work I do at the TAB foundation can also be done here at home—or I can take Jay with me and leave him in the daycare area on days I go in, if you're comfortable with that. That's what my brothers do with their little ones. But no matter how we choose to do it, there's no reason I can't handle the day-to-day Jay-care while you prepare for your show."

Owen stared at me for a long moment then shook his head. "I can't get over how you're so supportive of me. Why would you take on all that responsibility by yourself just so I can be free to paint?"

I shrugged, not understanding what the issue was. "Why wouldn't I? I'm pretty sure that's what being married means, right? And when you paint, it’s not like you're just up there goofing around and playing at a hobby—you are working. You're an artist with an important show coming up, and you need time to prepare. I have room in my schedule to handle the childcare, it’s that simple. There will be times when I won't and you will, and that's when you'll be the one to fill the gap. This is a partnership, dear."

It took a little longer to talk him into it, but finally Owen kissed both me and Jay before reluctantly picking up his phone to call the gallery as he headed upstairs. I turned to Jay and lifted him out of his high chair. "Looks like it's going to be you and me for a while, pumpkin. How about we take your swing into Daddy's office and let you chill while Daddy pushes a few numbers around?"

Once I had his swing in place, I got Jay tucked safely into the seat and turned on the rocking motion, popping his binky into his mouth before settling down at my desk and opening my laptop. The rest of the day was an easy mix of pausing to take care of Jay and getting my work done. I eventually stopped to set up his travel crib in my office, which made things a lot simpler.

"This is pretty much what your day looked like, huh? And for my second question—did I miss dinner?" I looked up to see Owen standing in the doorway smiling at me. Jay was snuggled against my chest, sound asleep, while I was looking over yet another spreadsheet.

Owen walked over and took Jay, bending to kiss my cheek before turning away. He glanced back over his shoulder as he laid Jay in his travel crib. "Why don't you go ahead and finish up, and we'll go out to dinner?”

Closing my laptop, I leaned back in my chair as a broad grin spread over my face. "Not tonight, dear. I've got tortilla soup going in the crockpot."

Owen turned and stared at me, his eyes wide with surprise. He slowly walked back over to the desk, stalking toward me like a panther before sitting down on my lap and curling against my chest as he snuck his hand inside my shirt to tweak my nipple.

"Are you seriously telling me that you took care of Jay all day, handled dinner, and still managed to get some work done of your own? Damn. I need to marry you. Put a ring on that finger before someone snatches you up, you know? Oh wait, we already are married."

Smiling to myself, I reached around him and opened my desk drawer, pulling a small, black velvet box out. "Now that you mention it, I think I really do need to see my ring on your finger. I was originally saving this for Valentine's Day, but there's no time like the present, wouldn't you say? I don't know about you, but I'll feel a whole lot more married with a ring on my finger."

Owen was speechless, his mouth hanging open as I snagged his shaky hand and slid on the slim platinum ring I'd picked out with him in mind. I lifted his hand to my mouth and kissed the ring while Owen watched with tear-filled eyes. When he saw the other ring in the box, his eyes lit up as he pulled it out and grabbed for my hand.

As he slid my ring onto my hand, Owen giggled happily. "Is it weird that I feel more married now than I did when we were in the judge's chambers or even when you knotted me?"

I laughed along with him. "No, because I feel exactly the same. In fact, as they say in all those sappy wedding movies that we all love so much—" I lifted his hand to kiss the ring again. "With this ring, I thee wed."

The tears filling his eyes started to spill out the corners as he lifted my hand and kissed the ring he'd just put on my finger and echoed my words. "With this ring, I thee wed."