That’s what I’m counting on.
Epilogue
Perry
Ilean againstthe doorjamb, slipping my hands in my pockets as Doja winds her way around my legs, meowing at me in warning. She’s rather overprotective of this room—and who it belongs to. She even hissed at Charlotte’s father when he tried to enter earlier.
Luckily enough, I witnessed the moment and thought it was pretty damn hilarious, though I did my best not to laugh out loud. Jasper struggled as well, though he kept his expression neutral the entire time.
I saw the joy dancing in his gaze, though. Pretty sure he doesn’t miss working at the Lancaster residence.
Charlotte sits in a rocking chair in our baby’s nursery, cradling our son to her breast. He eats noisily, his rosebud lips tugging on her nipple. Reed is a greedy little thing, waving his little hand in the air in almost triumph as he feasts. My wife reaches out, tracing his tiny fist with her index finger, her gaze thoughtful.
“You’re staring,” she says, though she’s not even looking at me. She’s mentioned that before a time or two, since we first were forced together, and I wonder if I’ll ever get over how entranced I am by my wife.
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.”