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I open my mouth, and she drops the pills onto my tongue. Her fingertips brush my lips, and a shiver runs down my spine. My belly hardens and my cock twitches. Her chest rises and falls, and she avoids my gaze as she raises the glass of water to my lips. I sip from it, without taking my gaze off of her.
Avery chooses that moment to slap her hand down on the glass. Water splashes on my shirt and on her.
"Sorry, sorry. Oh, Avery, look what you did?" Elsa frowns at the toddler, who glances between us. Her face crumples, and she takes in a deep breath.
"Hey, hey, it’s okay, Bubu; it’s fine. No harm done. It’s water; it will dry, right?" I walk away as I jiggle her and try to distract her. She glances at me, her features frozen as she eyes me, then her face crumples again.
"Aww, come on, baby, don’t cry." I begin to pace as I move her up and down in my grasp. Goddamn arm, if it were functional, I could use it to distract her.
She blinks, a teardrop balanced at the edge of her delicate eyelashes. She opens her mouth, but before she can make a sound, I whistle. She blinks again, and watches me, entranced. I whistle under my breath, then vary the tone, and she slowly shuts her mouth. I whistle once more. This time, she lands her fist in my mouth.
"A-n-d, normal service is resumed." I snicker. "Crisis averted. For now, at least."
An hour later, Elsa has given Avery a bath—which Avery insisted I watch. She refused to let go of my sleeve, so I had to accompany them to the small room connecting to the guest bedroom Elsa had occupied—and read a bedtime story to her, during which time, she insisted on holding onto my finger as she finally fell asleep. After that, we stand next to her crib and gaze down at the sleeping child.
"Wow," I breathe as a wave of tiredness washes over me, "she’s really something."
"She never stops," Elsa agrees. "You caught her as she was winding down."
"That’s her winding down?" I wince.
"You should see her in the mornings. She springs up, ready to face the day, and doesn’t stop until I put her down for her afternoon nap, at which time, she often refuses to sleep." Elsa shakes her head. "At this age, they’re still learning how to sleep, you know?" she says softly. Then she bends and kisses Avery on her forehead before she straightens and catches me watching her.
"Do you want to kiss her goodnight?"
"Me?" I catch myself gaping, and promptly shut my mouth.
"Yes, you." Elsa smiles a little. "You earned it."
I lower myself and bring my face close to the sleeping child’s. Her features are flushed, her lips slightly parted. Her chest rises and falls quickly. I push aside the strand of hair over her forehead, then bend and kiss her cheek.
"Goodnight, Bubu," I whisper.
I straighten and my gaze connects with Elsa’s. Once more, awareness hums between us. We’ve always had that connection, the chemistry that thrummed between us from the moment we met… but this… This is different. A shared experience, of taking care of Avery this evening, unites us. It changes the flavor of our interaction, deepens it, adds an edge to it. Laces it with tenderness, weaves it with an awareness that's both soft and potent, both erotic and intense, innocent and yet, so deep. It strengthens what already existed between us, helps me understand her more completely—as a woman, a mother, a nurturer, and someone who deserves every pleasure I can give her. And more.
Avery murmurs something, and we both shift our gazes to her face. She turns over on her side, but continues sleeping. When she doesn’t move for a few more minutes, the breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding slides out. Tension drains from my shoulders. Goddamn, and all this because I was worried we might have woken her up?
Elsa puts a finger to her lips, then jerks her head toward the doorway. She picks up the baby monitor and sidles toward the door. I follow her, when she pauses and turns to me. "Watch out for the—"
I step on a floorboard that creaks.
"—floorboard," she completes her statement.
I freeze, glance over my shoulder… to find Avery is still asleep. Whew! I turn to Elsa, who seems as relieved as me. She beckons to me, switching off the overhead light as I follow her out of the room, this time, without incident.
The nightlight illuminates the space as she closes the door, leaving it a little ajar. I follow her into her bedroom, and the breath I am not aware of holding rushes out.
"Is it always like that?" I whisper.
"Like what?"
"Like a major incident has been averted every time you put her to bed?"
She chuckles. "Once she’s asleep, she wouldn’t wake up if a freight train passed through her room. It’s just those few minutes before she tips over into deep sleep that you have to be careful of."
"Right." I peer down into her face. "You are an amazing mother, Elsa."
She flushes. "So you keep saying."
