25. Nate

TWENTY-FIVE

NATE

T his dad thing was totally fucked.

George was over a month old, and Tabby’s last semester of school was about to start. It was only a few hours a week on campus, and it was easy to work my schedule around her classes.

I’d taken care of Frogger on my own before and never had a problem, especially since he was more solid now. He went from being tiny and entirely too breakable to a stone. My little man was a brick.

Since he loved to be held, the sling we’d bought got a lot of use. Anytime Tabby wasn’t feeding or cuddling with him, I usually had him in that thing. He did the house chores with me and even came to Walt’s one time when I had to meet the HVAC people there. I got so much done as long as he was strapped to my chest.

Which was why I didn’t think anything about Tabitha leaving today to meet with her adviser at school. A couple hours away? No big deal.

Until a summer storm hit.

It came on without warning. Or maybe a little bit of warning since Tab did ask me to find her an umbrella since her weather app called for rain.

With lightning and thunder hitting every other minute, Lucy was losing her goddamn mind, and the more she barked, the more George cried.

I didn’t know who to help first.

I put Frog in his crib in his bedroom with the sound machine and fan on, hoping I would calm him down so I could get Lucy’s thunder jacket, which did shit all because she wouldn’t calm down enough to let me put her in it.

My attempts to swaddle George tightly were futile, his little face scrunched up in distress, and I struggled to juggle both him and Lucy, swaying back and forth with George pressed against my chest as I tried to wrangle a trembling Lucy. She squirmed in my grasp, letting out sharp yelps with each rumble of thunder. George’s cries rose in pitch, tiny fists waving.

I tried to give George a bottle, but he wasn’t interested in anything besides wailing, which didn’t help Lucy’s anxiety. They fed off each other. The more Luce barked, the more George cried, and the more he cried, the more she barked.

An endless fucking circle that slowly crushed my soul.

At the end of my rope, I tossed the sling on and put Lucy in it, bouncing up and down, and she quieted. Then I picked up George, kissing his cheek. “It’s okay, Frog. It’s okay.” I held him against my shoulder, cradling his butt in one hand and his downy head in the other. “I got you. Shh. I got you.”

After a few laps around the house, I had them both settled, though Lucy still panted against my chest, and George whimpered into my neck. As I completed yet another loop around the dining room table, the front door opened.

“Nate?”

“Oh, thank god.” I’d never felt such relief in my life.

Tabby stepped out of her shoes as I bounce-walked toward the front door. She froze mid-stride, eyes trailing over the scene in front of her, a slight frown marring her lips. “What’s going on?”

I shook my head, at a loss for words.

“Rough day?”

I nodded.

Without a word, she came to me, wrapping her hand around my neck, tugging me down for a kiss. She smelled of rain and coffee and everything I loved most in the world. Then she took George from me, cradling him against her chest, whispering words that soothed him. Soothed me too.

She petted Lucy’s head, not at all fazed that I had her in the baby sling, and I swear to God, now that she was home, the thunderstorm stopped.

I breathed out an exhausted laugh, earning a wry smile, and took off the sling to put Lucy on the floor before hugging Tabitha from behind, my hands on her hips, my lips on her neck. “I love you.”

She hummed. Since the day in the hospital, she hadn’t said it again, and while I knew she loved me, I sort of loathed her reluctance to say the words out loud.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she suggested, and that sounded like such a good idea, I didn’t need to be told twice.

Lucy followed us, still recovering from her panicked state, and curled up in her bed, as I collapsed on our bed. Tabby crawled to the middle of the mattress and propped up pillows in position to feed George. I rolled to my side, my head in my hand, watching as she eased our baby to the crook of her elbow then tugged the collar of her loose T-shirt down, revealing her nursing bra. With a snap of her fingers, the material fell to reveal her swollen breast, her nipple already erect. The baby didn’t hesitate. He latched on, one arm slipping down to her side while he lifted his other, opening his tiny fingers to splay over her skin and grab at her necklace. The one she wore in honor of his sister who’d never made it earthside.

Tabby stared down at him with so much love and tenderness it made my chest ache. Every time. I loved to watch her feed our son. It was such an intimate and special experience for the two of them, it almost felt like an invasion of privacy for me to be here, yet I couldn’t ever force myself away.

I slid the tip of my finger over the delicate shell of George’s ear and down to his cheek, feeling the movement as he sucked. Then I trailed my fingers up to Tabby’s breast, dragging them back and forth across the top swell. It wasn’t a sexual caress, more admiration and appreciation for what she was doing.

Made me love her even more.

She shifted her gaze to me, half lidded and a little sleepy. Nursing always made her drowsy.

“How was your meeting?” I asked, moving my hand to her neck, brushing away strands of hair.

“Good. I’m on track for graduation. She wanted to make sure I’ll have enough time and support to finish my capstone project.”

I nodded. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

She bit into her lip a little shyly as she smiled, her eyes closed, head tipped back. “That’s what I told her. That I have a house husband at home.”

“House husband?” I scooted up to kiss her neck. “I like the sound of that.”

She hummed. “Me too.”

I’d make an honest woman out of her one of these days, but we had the next few months to get through. The bistro was slated to open in a few weeks, and then we had the holidays and Tabby’s graduation. It was a lot, but we’d be okay.

“Will you sing?” I whispered, and she barely opened her eyes to me.

“What song?”

“Anything.”

After a few moments, her chest rose on an inhale, and then she started singing a song that took me a few seconds to realize was Green Day’s “Last Night on Earth.”

I dropped my head to a pillow, nestled into Tabby’s side with my hand on George’s back, the three of us physically connected as she sang about love making it through a fire.

In no time at all, I fell asleep, only to wake up a little while later to find Tabby and George still sound asleep. His little body was completely lax, mouth open right next to Tabby’s nipple. Her head was tilted back on the pillow, eyes closed and breathing deep and even.

Smiling, I slowly slipped off the bed, careful not to disturb them, then snapped a picture on my phone. I had hundreds of these candids of Tabby and the baby. I supposed one day I’d clue her in. Until then, I hoarded them all to myself. Shuffling through them during quiet moments, from the first photo of Tabitha sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, her profile in view as she stared out at the window, her hand on the top of her belly, to this latest one.

Padding softly downstairs to the kitchen, I texted Collin. We had interviews scheduled for tomorrow to hire staff for the new restaurant. I wanted to confirm the time and go over the list of candidates one more time.

Collin responded right away, eager as always. We exchanged a few messages, hammering out the details, and by the time I tucked my phone away, we had a plan for tomorrow.

Riffling through the fridge and pantry, I gathered ingredients for dinner—salmon with asparagus and potatoes. I put on a sports podcast and got to work, not hearing Tabby until she was right next to me.

“Smells good.”

I jumped out of my skin, letting out a very undignified shriek, before recognizing it was her. “Goddamn, Tab.” When she bit back a smile, I aimed a glare at her. “Not funny.”

“A little.”

I waved my hand to George. “You’re embarrassing me in front of our son.”

She repositioned him on her shoulder, tilting her cheek to his head. “Are you embarrassed of your father?” she asked him. “Hmm?” Then she bent as if listening to his answer. “He says your scream was not at all embarrassing and very manly.”

I huffed, wrapping my hand around her hips to grab hold of her ass, squeezing. “I’m ordering that bell tonight.”

She shook her head. “You’re not going to collar me.”

“No?” I pulled her against me. “What if I promise you’ll like it?”

She rolled her eyes, hip checking me away from her so she could head out of the kitchen. “Maybe I should collar you.”

“Promise?”

At the doorframe, she glanced back, her evil smirk in place. “If you’re a good boy.”

If she didn’t already own my heart, I’d have thrown it at her then.

“Oh, princess, I’ll be a very good boy for you.”