Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“Do you mind holding him while I give him this? He’s not really a fan.” I hold up the dropper of medicine.
“Sure.” She shifts him from her shoulder to cradle him in her arms. “Okay, buddy. Daddy has some medicine that’s going to make you feel better. I need you to work with us, okay?” Her voice is soft and soothing and has a calming effect on my baby boy.
Moving in close, I place my hand under his chin and stick the dropper in his mouth. He tries to spit it out, but the gentle hold of my fingers under his chin helps him to swallow. Pulling out the dropper, he lets out a cry, but it’s short-lived as Hollis once again cuddles him to her chest. She rubs his back and sways side to side, and his cries stop.
“You don’t think it was us playing in the snow last week, do you?” she asks. I can hear the worry in her voice.
“No. It could be anything. He’s been cutting teeth, so that’s my guess. I’ll call the doctor in the morning and see what they think I should do. Let me wash my hands, and I’ll take him.”
“He’s fine.” She follows me back to the kitchen and heads straight for the rocker recliner I bought two days ago. She settles into the chair and wraps Milo’s soft blanket around him and begins to rock.
“You sure you don’t want me to take him?” I feel guilty that she’s missing out on her sleep.
“No. We’re good, aren’t we, buddy,” she says softly, smiling down at Milo. His eyes are already shut, unable to resist the pull of the rocking of the chair and being snuggled up with Hollis. Like father like son. I can’t resist her either.
With the dim lighting of the lamp, I take a seat on the couch and watch her. Watch them. My relationship with Hollis has developed fast, but I wouldn’t change it. I’m crazy about her, and seeing her like this, so loving and caring toward Milo, well, it’s hard to separate the sex and the emotions. I sound like a fucking chick, even to my own ears, but it’s the truth. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have her by my side all the time. Sure, that’s how things have been this past week, but I mean more permanently. As in, her room is no longer hers. Maybe we’ll have more kids? Move to a bigger place? My mind is all over the place. All because of the beautiful woman, sitting on my chair, in my clothes, holding my son.
All because of Hollis.
I can’t tell you how long I’ve been sitting here just watching her with him. I know it’s not polite to stare, but I couldn’t pull my eyes from them even if I tried.
“He’s out,” she whispers.
“Okay.” I nod but make no effort to move. I’m not ready for this time to observe her, observe them together to be over. I imagine this is what it’s supposed to be like. When there are two parents, and this parenting gig isn’t being done solo. This is how it’s supposed to feel. “I’ll take him,” I finally say, standing from my place on the couch.
“No, I can do it. We don’t want to jostle him too much and wake him up.” I nod and follow her down the hall to his room. I watch intently as she lays him back in his bed. When she kisses the tips of her fingers and places them to his forehead, I’m a goner. Reaching out, I link my fingers through hers and guide her back to my room. I make quick work of stripping us both of our clothes before snagging a condom from the nightstand and pulling back the covers. There are no words spoken. We don’t need them. Our bodies are talking for us.
We’re both giving.
We’re both taking.
I’m falling in love with you.
That last one, that’s all me, but I’d like to think she feels the same way. The way she looks at me, the way she looks at my son. It has to be true, right? Together, we fall over the cliff of ecstasy. When I’ve caught my breath, I handle the condom and slide back into bed, pulling her into my arms. I hold her tight, and don’t let go. I don’t ever want to let go.
* * *
“What did the doctor say?” Hollis asks when I walk through the door. She’s sitting on the couch with her computer on her lap. She’s still wearing my shirt, and her hair is still a mess. I love her like this.
“Teething.” I look down at my son, who is all bundled up in his snowsuit and trying to rest his head on my shoulder.