Page 54 of Better Daddy

“Chill.” Brian frowns at the giant feline.

With a twitch of his nose, he leaps onto the table.

“Aw, over here, Fuzzy,” Cal coos.

Nose in the air, the cat ignores him, instead gracefully jumping to the floor and padding toward Brian’s bedroom.

“Dammit.” Brian glowers as Fuzzy disappears through the open doorway.

“Don’t worry, he’ll come back for the Christmas treats I got him.” Cal rushes to the tree and picks up a bag adorned with a kitten in a full Santa suit. “We’ll do presents once you wankers have changed.”

Brian groans. “You really expect me to wear this?”

“The whole family needs to match,” I say. “And that includes you.”

Cal nods, fiddling with the gift bag. “Yes, and we elves have a lot of work to do after the kids go to bed. We have to put the bikes together and hang the stockings and wrap the rest of the gifts.”

Brian shakes his head. “Sounds like Christmas at Dylan’s.”

“Exactly.” I skirt around him. “This is what Christmas with family looks like, and we’re family,” I remind him.

I knock on my closed bedroom door, and when Sloane says, “Come in,” I twist the knob and duck inside.

The view before me stops me in my tracks.

“Do not laugh at me,” she warns, running her hands down her sides to smooth out the red shirt. The fitted pajamas give me the perfect view of the small bump on my wife’s lower stomach. The knowledge that our child is growing safely inside her makes my chest swell.

“I know I look ridiculous.”

“No, sweetheart.” I take a tentative step forward. “You could never look ridiculous. You look radiant.”

Fighting the urge to reach out to her, I clench my hands at my sides.

As if she noticed the movement, she shuffles closer and gently grasps my wrist. Then, with her eyes locked on mine, she places my palm against her lower stomach.

Her warmth soaks into me, waking up every dormant part of me. I haven’t felt this alive in months. Maybe years. Emotion welling up inside me, I lower my focus to where we’re touching.

“You can’t feel anything yet.” Her voice is low, raspy.

Nodding, I swallow down the lump in my throat. That’ll come later. Right now, touching her, feeling the swell that is our baby, is enough.

She wets her lips, searching my face, the look in her eyes one I haven’t seen in months. It’s pure desire. She looks like she wants me to kiss her. Hell, she looks like she needs it.

A weight I’ve been carrying for way too long lifts, making it easier to breathe. My wife still wants me.

I angle in a fraction, and she tilts her chin up and inches closer to me. My pulse kicks up, thumping in my ears. Six inches. That’s all the space left between us. Her lips part, her breath warm on my face. The need to kiss her, to once again feel her mouth against mine, pounds through me.

The door flies open with a bang, sending my heart lurching, and we jump apart.

“Mom, Dad. Hurry up!” T.J. calls from the doorway.

When I glance back at Sloane, all the heat in her eyes has tempered.

“I’ll let you get dressed.” She steps away.

I nod, swallowing back a rush of disappointment. When the door clicks shut behind her, though, the lightness of that moment stays with me. Things between us are changing, and from the look of it, they’re moving in the right direction.

A smile tugs at my lips as I step out of my trousers and into the awful green pajama bottoms. The expression is quickly replaced by a grimace when, even with my boxer briefs still in place, I feel a breeze where the bloodyflap is.