“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.
But considering everything, she’s doing well. She’s open with me about her feelings, and I’m there for her every chance I get.
We make a good team, my wife and I.
“I don’t mind.” Reed chooses that moment to burp—really loudly—and the both of us laugh. Doja runs into the bedroom, meowing, her gaze narrowing as she studies me. Deeming me not a threat, she turns and trots out of the bedroom, resuming her spot guarding the door, I assume. “See?” I smile down at our son, who seems pleased that he just burped. Probably feels better after that. Poor little dude can sometimes get full of gas. “I can handle it.”
“Okay.” The relieved smile on Charlotte’s face makes it worth it to me that I made this offer. And when she walks over to me to press a kiss to my cheek and murmur, “Thank you,” my heart pangs.
It’s never felt so full.
I think of everything we’ve been through, and how we made it despite all the odds stacked against us. McJailbird got deported back to Ireland and there’s a no contact order in place, so I’m feeling pretty confident he’ll never come near my wife again.
If he even tries, he won’t survive. I guarantee it.
Charlotte has made wary peace with her parents, though they’re not close, which is fine with the both of us. Her brothers spend a lot more time with her, which I like. I’ve come around.
The Lancasters are still feral wolves, but I can deal with them. They’re a lot like us Constantines.
Life is good. I have no complaints. How can I? I’m married to a beautiful woman I love with my entire soul and we have a son. Work is going well. I’m VP of Operations at Halcyon and while it’s a lot of stress, I can handle it. I’m an integral part of the family business. No longer the careless fuck-up I used to be, that’s for damn sure.
I’m a husband and a dad, for Christ’s sake. I had to step up.
The moment she’s gone, I tuck my son into my hands and hold him in front of me. His eyes are wide and unblinking as he stares up at me and I can’t help but smile at him.
“What’s up little man? How’s life? You liking it out here in the cold, cruel world?”
He yawns his answer.
“It’s not cold and cruel here though. You got a mama who loves you. And your daddy does too. Doja the cat will protect you with her life, and scratch out the eyes of anyone who’s a threat.” I bring him close to my face so I can whisper in his ear, “Like your Grandfather Lancaster.”
A fussy little noise leaves him, making me chuckle.
“And then there’s Jasper, who’ll attend to your every need. Grandma Caroline always wants to hold you. She’s greedy, like you are. Your uncle Winston doesn’t seem to particularly care for you, but don’t be offended. You’re too little still. Just wait. He’ll come around.”
Charlotte peeks her head around the doorframe, a smile on her face when our gazes meet. “What are you telling our son?”
“You spying on me?” I meet her gaze, raising a brow.
“You started talking to him before I even fully left the nursery. I had to stick around and hear what you said.” She reenters the room, and her face says it all.
She loves seeing me with our son. Just like I love seeing her with him too.
“I was just giving him the scoop. Letting him know he’s loved. By all of us.” I smile down at him.