Page 98 of Reticent

Hunter turns up the light in the nursery while I hurry to Liam’s crib.

“What’s the matter, baby?” I pick Liam up and hold him to my chest.

Hunter steps over and puts his hand on Liam’s forehead. “He’s warm. I think he has a fever.”

I touch my hand to Liam’s forehead and neck. He sneezes between cries, and a burst of snot shoots from his nose.

Hunter hands me a baby wipe. “I’ll grab the thermometer.”

I clean Liam's nose and kiss his cheeks as the tears keep coming. Hunter returns from Liam’s adjoining bathroom with an infant care cold and flu kit. I place Liam on the changing table, and he cries harder as Hunter suctions his nose with a nasal aspirator. I pull up Liam’s sleeper gown and take off his diaper, while Hunter gives him the appropriate dosage of baby Tylenol. While I take his rectal temperature, Hunter distracts him by talking to him and rubbing his head. Liam starts to calm down a little, keeping his eyes on his daddy, while I wait for the temperature reading.

“It’s okay, bud,” Hunter soothes as Liam holds out his arms and touches his daddy’s face.

The thermometer beeps, and I check the temperature. “One hundred and two point five.”

Hunter’s eyes connect with mine, and in them, I see the same worry that I feel. “I’ll call the doctor,” Hunter says.

“I’ll see if he’ll nurse.”

Hunter leaves the nursery for his phone. I change Liam’s diaper and bring him with me to the rocking chair by the window. He’s fussy, tugging at my shirt and pressing his face to my breasts. That’s a good sign. At least he has an appetite.

Hunter’s on the phone with the pediatrician when he returns and finds Liam nursing. He presses a kiss to Liam’s forehead. “No, I don’t think so,” he relays to the doctor. “I’ll ask her.”

He goes through a list of questions from our pediatrician. Based on our answers, she gives instructions on how to best care for Liam and what symptoms to look out for.

When Hunter’s off the phone, he sits down on the floor against the wall. Yawning, he scrubs a hand through his bed hair.

“Why don't you get some sleep,” I say.

“And what about you?”

“I’ll call in tomorrow.” I pull a dozing Liam away from my breast and put him over my shoulder to burp him.

“Are you sure?” Hunter gets up and brings me a burp cloth before sitting down on the floor again, bending his legs at the knees. “I can stay home if you need me to. Unlike you, I don’t have an asshole of a boss to deal with.”

“I don’t mind staying home. I’d rather be here with Liam anyway. And you’re right about my boss being an asshole. At least where you work, you’re the asshole boss.”

His lip quirks. “Who told you I was an asshole?”

“No one. I’ve seen you in action with your chefs.”

He scowls. “That was one time, and Emilio deserved it. He kept staring at your ass.”

I snort. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Yes he was, and we had a talk after you left.”

“What did you say to him?”

He sobers as he looks at me. “I told him you were mine. And if I ever caught him staring at your ass again, I would fire him after I kicked his ass.”

My smile slowly fades. “Hunter. I’m not yours.”

“Do you really believe that?” He outstretches his arms over his knees and cocks his head, squinting those blue eyes at me.

My mouth goes dry. I drop eye contact because there’s no way I can look him in the eye and lie to him again. “It’s a fact. I only say that when we’re having sex.”

“Because it’s true. You are mine. And not just when we’re fucking.”