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Probably not.
And I’m okay with that too.
“Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.”
She finally glances in my direction, disbelief in her eyes. “Please. I’m up half the night and have dark circles beneath my eyes to prove it. I have spit up on my shirt. My hair is a mess. I can’t remember the last time I took a shower, which is gross, but my memory is also fuzzy so for all I know, I showered a few hours ago? I’m not sure. Oh, plus I’m sleep-deprived and I’m starving. Like all the time.”
My wife rambles when she’s tired, and it’s adorable.
Charlotte glances down at the baby she’s cradling, her hand smoothing over the downy softness that is our son’s head. “He’s sweet though, right?”
“He’s as sweet as you.” I push away from the doorframe and fully enter the nursery, my gaze on my son. “Finish feeding him and I’ll take over.”
“What, really? You will?” Her gaze meets mine, her blue eyes wide. She sounds so hopeful. Looks it too.
We had some of her family over earlier, allowing them a glimpse of our son. Her parents came, as well as her brothers and their significant others. Well, not Finn. He’s out of the country currently, doing God knows what.
I don’t bother asking. He’s the wild card of this particular Lancaster bunch.
I tolerated her parents. Their lack of love for their only daughter frustrates me, and the only reason they’re coming around is to see the baby. Do they deserve to be in our son’s life? My wife says yes, because everyone should get a second chance, according to her.
Whatever. I think her parents are on their fiftieth chance but I don’t remind my wife of that little fact.
“Definitely.” Nodding, I go to the chair and kneel in front of it, nudging my wife’s hand out of the way so I can smooth my own hand over my son’s golden hair. “You deserve a break, wife.”
“You’ve been working hard too,” she reminds me, and I can hear the guilt tinge her voice.
Nope. She can’t feel guilty for taking my offered help. She needs to know she’s not in this parenting thing alone. I’m not like her father who ignores the kids. And we’re not like her parents either, hiring a nanny to take care of our son.
Charlotte wanted to be hands-on with him. She told me that from the start and I agreed with her. I know it’s hard and I was right there with her the first six weeks before I had to go back to work. Taking care of a demanding infant day in and day out is a slog. Overwhelming.
But my wife is up to the task. I’ll be right there with her, standing by her side, helping out where I can.
“And you pushed a baby out of your body only a couple of months ago. It’s the least I can do.” I watch my son’s mouth tug and pull on my wife’s nipple and I shake my head. He’s ferocious. A Constantine through and through, with Lancaster blood flowing through him too.
He’s going to be someone to contend with someday. I can already tell.
Charlotte smiles down at me, her gaze soft. Like she can’t believe I’m here, offering my help. Offering my love. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“You didn’t like me at first,” I remind her. I like to think back on those early days, when we didn’t like each other, yet the attraction was still there. Frustrating us both. We’ve come a long way. “At all.”
“I didn’t trust you.” Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t trust me either.”
“True. And now look at us.” I stroke my son’s head and he pulls away from his mother’s breast, his big blue eyes staring up at me. I smile at him and I swear to God, he smiles back.
Or maybe it’s just gas. I’m not sure. But I’m taking it as a sign that my son knows what’s up. That I’m his dad.
My chest swells with pride. Still wild to think we made this little human being, Charlotte and I.
Once Reed has finished feeding, Charlotte starts to burp him but I interrupt the process, taking him from her along with a burp rag, which I drape over my shoulder.
Can’t have him messing up the ten-thousand-dollar suit, you know.
I walk him around the bedroom, patting his back, his little body wiggling against mine, his head bobbing.
“You really don’t mind?” Charlotte asks when she stands, stretching her arms above her head. Her body has bounced back pretty quickly after pregnancy, but she’s also gained some curves that I can’t help but admire and appreciate.
Seeing her like this, even when she’s feeling low and out of sorts, has me lusting after her. When do I not want her? I miss having sex with my wife, but I have to be patient. Considerate. Her body has just performed a miracle, and while her labor experience was relatively easy, it still did a number on her body and even her mental state.
