“Help me, woman,” I say as the piss rolls down my face and drips onto my shirt.
Gabby steps closer and takes the cup out of my hand. Once I know she’s got him, I back away and rip my shirt over my head, tossing it in the hamper.
“Nice shot, buddy,” Gabby whispers.
I smack her on the ass and she yelps in surprise. “Just for that, I get extra dessert.” I turn on the hot spray of the shower. Quickly, I strip out of the rest of my clothes. I don’t even wait for the water to heat up before stepping under the spray. I have to get this piss off me. “This is Peegate 2.0,” I say, piling more body wash than I would ever need to clean my entire body into the palm of my hand. I lather it up and scrub my face, neck, and chest until they feel raw.
“Oh, come on.” Gabby chuckles. “It’s just a little pee. He has your DNA.”
“I don’t give a shit. That is not okay, Gabs.”
“He’s a baby,” she coos at him.
“I’m not mad,” I say, “but damn, what is it with him pissing on me all the time?”
“Just wait until you get puked on. Or even shit on. Ahh,” she sighs dramatically. “The joys of parenthood.”
“He’s damn lucky he’s cute,” I say, feeling better now that I have thoroughly scrubbed my skin raw of the piss. Turning off the water, I step out of the shower and grab a towel. Gabby eyes me in the mirror. “Gabby,” I growl. My cock grows just from her eyes on me. She doesn’t look away; instead, she takes her time raking her eyes over my body in the mirror. Milo coos and she snaps her attention back to him.
“We’re all done, cutie.” She positions a towel against her chest and then picks him up. I watch her as she manages to wrap a baby towel around his body with little effort.
I should feel like a tool, getting hard watching her with my son. However, the ease and care she has with him, it does more to rile me up than her slow perusal of my body. She’s caring for him, a part of me. That does something to me. Twists me up inside.
“I’ll grab a bottle.” I toss my towel into the hamper and move to my room to grab some boxer briefs. Satisfied that I’m covered—you never know who’s going to end up on your doorstep these days—I make my way to the kitchen to make his night bottle. A few minutes later, I find them in the living room. Gabby is sitting on the couch, with a bundled-up Milo in his pajamas, talking softly.
“Daddy’s making you a bottle,” she tells him. “He’s the best daddy,” she goes on. “You’re lucky to have him. He’s strong and reliable. Things that I fought hard to overlook because I didn’t want to admit what I felt for him. And now he has you, which only sweetens the pot. I know he’s worried that I don’t think so, but you’re too hard to resist. You have that in common—you and your daddy.”
I want to scream it from the rooftops how much she means to me. I want to drop to one knee and beg her to be mine for eternity. I stop, waiting for the panic to set in over my internal confession, but the panic never comes. That’s because Gabby is right for me. We’re right together.
“Here we go,” I say as if I’m just coming into the room.
“Oh, boy,” Gabby says excitedly to Milo. “It’s time to eat.”
“Want me to do it?” I point to Milo.
“Nah, I’ve got it.” She takes the bottle from me and offers it to him. He greedily begins to suck it down.
“You were hungry, huh, bud?” she asks. “That means you’re going to be mad at me when I have to take this away from you to burp you. Slow down,” she whispers. Not that her instruction does any good. He drinks as if it’s been days since his last meal, not a couple of hours. Three to be exact. We’ve got him on a schedule thanks to Gabby’s instruction. And we have Harrison and Gwen to thank for that. Since they’ve been through this all with Sophia, they’ve been a huge wealth of knowledge as we navigate this new-parents thing. Yes, I include Gabby in that. She’s more of a mother to him than the woman who left him on my doorstep. Although, I must applaud her for bringing him to me. She could have dropped him anywhere and I never would have known that he existed.
Not knowing him would have been tragic.
Taking a seat next to them on the couch, I settle in and watch him eat. My hand is on Gabby’s leg, and Milo’s little hand has my finger in a fist. I’m not complaining. I need to feel connected to both of them. Not that I didn’t understand it before, but I realize the absolute need that Harrison has to be home with Gwen and Sophia at a decent time each night. I always understood he loved his wife and daughter and wanted to spend time with them. However, now I see it for what it truly is. It’s more than just love. It’s need. One that only a man who gets to see the woman he loves with his child can truly comprehend.