Chapter 11
Jasper
This kid was a genius. Nothing would convince me otherwise. His tummy time game was elite. Already, he had the neck strength of a bear.
I was so damn proud of him.
We lay together on the play mat while I used his favorite giraffe, this weird-ass French rubber thing that he loved to eat, to keep him entertained.
I beatboxed, really going for it, making all kinds of weird sounds while the giraffe—Sophie, apparently—and the Very Hungry Caterpillar engaged in a dance battle.
It was our thing. Vincent and I hung out while Evie showered and drank the coffee I brought her or checked her work email, and I acted like a fool. Vincent seemed to enjoy it.
It was my contribution.
Evie did 100 percent of the feeding, but being a silly source of entertainment? I’d claimed that job. And I took it very seriously. Clowning with an infant was not easy.
“Look at the caterpillar.” I used my best sports announcer voice. “He’s doing the worm. Cross species dance moves.”
I moved the caterpillar across the playmat as I rapped about eating leaves. It was utter nonsense, but Vincent was enraptured.
And then it happened.
He giggled.
He’d been smiling for several weeks now, but I’d never heard him laugh.
My heart leaped, and my chest nearly exploded with joy.
I moved the caterpillar again and rapped a little more, and again, he laughed. A full belly laugh, kicking his legs like a little swimmer.
For a second, I only stared at him in shock. But when I got my wits about me, I jumped up.
“Evie.” I spun in a circle, looking for my phone. I had to get this on video. “Evie,” I called again as I opened the camera app.
The bathroom door flew open, and Evie darted toward us.
“What’s wrong? Is he okay?”
She was dripping wet, a yellow towel wrapped loosely around her, her chest heaving with panicked breaths.
My vision tunneled, and every muscle in my body locked up. Her long hair was plastered to her shoulders, water running in rivulets, only to be absorbed by the towel. Her lips were pink and plump. More so than usual.
And the towel hid almost nothing.
I was in the presence of a goddess. The lush, sexy body that had enraptured me one wild night and had haunted me since was nearly within reach. Memory after memory hit me. The feel of her under me. The soft gasps and the cry she let out when I pushed inside her.
“Jasper.” Her tone was sharp, pulling me out of my haze. “What’s wrong?”
I inhaled sharply, only now realizing I hadn’t been breathing.
I looked at Vincent and then at her again.
“He laughed,” I said, holding up my phone. “I was doing dumb stuff and he laughed. A real laugh.”
Her face lit up, her dark eyes warm. “Really? Vincent, you’re laughing? Do it again,” she said to me. “I can’t believe I missed it.”
As much as I didn’t want to look away from her and miss a second of the excitement in her face, I kneeled and picked up Sophie the Giraffe, making her twerk as I rapped badly about the Very Hungry Caterpillar eating all the leaves off the tree.
It took a minute, but he did it again. It started with a tiny rumble but quickly turned into a full laugh.
Evie sat next to me, that towel hiding very little, and wiped a tear from her eye. “Oh my God. It’s amazing. He’s amazing. The baby book said three to four months.”
Filled with pride, I grinned at her. “Ahead of schedule. He’s a genius. Obviously.”
Nodding, she tickled his foot, causing him to kick and giggle. “We’re not supposed to say that out loud,” she chided me playfully.
“Yes, but it’s undeniable. He’s the smartest and most handsome baby ever.” I leaned down and blew a raspberry on his stomach. “You get all that from your mom. I take no credit. But I’m so proud of you, bud.”
Evie beamed at me, her attention making my stomach do backflips. I’d gotten them both to smile today, and that sent me soaring to a level of joy I’d never experienced before.
The sheer satisfaction of making my son laugh? Of making Evie look at me like I was some kind of hero? This was a type of high that couldn’t be replicated.
“I’m gonna get dressed,” she said, standing and awkwardly arranging her towel. “Then we need to get this on video.”
I used every ounce of self-control I had to keep my eyes on my son.
“Vincent,” she cooed. “Your dad is so silly.”
My heart expanded even further. Dad. The title made my think of my own dad and how much fun he’d be having right now. How he’d obsess about every milestone and take blurry photos with the phone camera he never bothered learning how to use properly.
This was why I was here. This was why I slept in a tent in the backyard. Because I couldn’t bear the idea of missing these moments with either of them.
Our origin story was not typical, but with every day that passed, that mattered less to me. Because like it or not, the three of us were a family.
I’d been blessed. I didn’t deserve Evie or Vincent, but someone out there was looking out for me.
I looked out the window toward the blue sky and said a silent thank you to my mom and dad.
They’d taught me to be patient and warned me against my impulsive nature.
And now I finally understood. Some things were worth waiting for.
Some things were worth hard work and sacrifice. And I hoped I could make them proud.