“Feed him here,” I grunt.
Remi hasn’t necessarily been shy feeding Elijah in front of me, but she’ll turn her back or partially shield herself. I don’t like it. I want her to feel comfortable doing it around me. It’s a natural thing mothers have been doing since the beginning of time.
She only hesitates for a split second before she nods, a blush pinkening her cheeks. I take Elijah from her so she can work her shirt over her head. Her basic white bra shouldn’t be a turn on, but I find myself having to turn my eyes away as she unclips the cup. I look down at Elijah instead and
can’t help but smile when I see his gummy grin.
“You sure are a handsome little fellow, huh?” I remark and get a kick in my stomach.
“I’m ready,” comes Remi’s shy voice.
Leaning over, I kiss her before maneuvering Elijah around so he’s facing Remi’s exposed breast. The one she chose to feed him from is the one closest to me, so the top of his head barely grazes my chest. Looking down, I watch him easily latch on to her nipple. One of his fisted hands presses against the creamy white flesh, right by his mouth.
I’m amazed and in awe at the sight of Elijah taking nutrients from his mother. It’s both beautiful and fascinating to see it. Remi looks down at her son with love in her eyes. Through this, they share a special bond that no other person can replicate.
As a doctor, I fully support a mother breastfeeding for as long as it’s comfortable for both of them. As a man, a father, I think it’s one of life’s rarest precious gifts, and I feel honored to be able to witness it.
Lowering my head, I place a gentle kiss on Elijah’s temple. When I bring my head back up, I find Remi watching me, the same love still shining in her eyes.
I kiss her and murmur against her lips, “I love you, Remi.”
I feel her smile and it’s confirmed when her eyes light up. “I love you too, Trouble.”
TROUBLE
THREE YEARS LATER
HEARING A GIGGLE, I spin around and spot Elijah barreling toward me on his short three-year-old legs.
“Daddy! Daddy!” he shrieks, laughter bubbling from him.
I crouch, scoop him up before he hits my knees, and toss him in the air, smoothly catching him on his way down.
“What are you running from, Eli?” I flick his nose with my finger and he giggles.
Before he can answer, there’s a yap, and a soaked furball comes running full speed from around the corner of the house where Elijah just came from. Athena, the Lab we bought Elijah only weeks ago, stops at my feet and jumps repeatedly on my shins, leaving streaks of mud behind on my pants.
“Don’ wet her ge’ me, Daddy!” Elijah squeals loudly.
“Why is Athena wet?” I point my eyes back to Elijah.
“Because your son decided to spray her with the water hose instead of the plants like he was supposed to.”
I look over just as my beautiful wife rounds the same corner. Her hair is piled high on her head, her shirt has something yellow smeared on it, her face is make-up free, and she’s barefoot. She’s still the most stunning vision I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.
Looking closer, I notice her shirt is wet and she has water dripping down her face.
I lift a brow. “I guess he decided to spray you as well?”
Although she scowls at Elijah, there’s affection in her gaze. “Yes.”
I chuckle, because, well, I can’t not chuckle.
Her eyes narrow on me, not finding the situation funny, even though she’d be laughing her ass off if it were me standing there drenched.
I shrug. “Well, it is hot. He was just trying to cool you both off.”
“If I wanted to cool off, I’d go to Jenny’s house and jump in her pool. Not have my son spontaneously spray me.”