13. Out of the Rain
Out of the Rain
SAM
It was only a thirty-second sprint to the gazebo, but by the time we got there, we were both soaked.
Henry was shrieking, but as I came around the side to lift the stroller up the stairs—no time to unbuckle him—I saw it was with happiness.
He was flapping his arms like a bird, screaming with laughter.
Thanks to the cover, he’d only gotten a little wet.
When I looked at Ellie though, I felt my stomach drop. She was drenched. I should have brought an umbrella. Fuck.
But then my eyes took in the rest of her.
She had her hands on her hips as she looked out onto the storm.
She didn’t look unhappy. She was smiling.
She looked…beautiful. But worse, her outfit was clinging to her body in a slightly obscene way.
I forced myself to look up to her face, where her hair lay flat and stuck to her cheeks.
Thank fuck she wasn’t looking at me, but out at the river, where lightning cracked over the water, making Henry’s smile freeze on his face.
“It’s okay, baby,” she cooed, leaning into the stroller and kissing his cheek. “Thunderstorms are fun, I promise!” Then she laughed, standing up straight again.
And then all the work I’d done in my head folded in on itself like a cheap lawn chair.
Ellie’s wild, soft curls were one of my favorite things about her.
But she was in the process of slicking her hair back away from her face, and it felt like it was going in slow motion.
Her eyes closed as she curved her palms over her crown.
Her face was now clear and unobstructed, her lashes rain-soaked; her skin dewy over her cheekbones.
And her body—fuck. She looked like a Renaissance painting, only with bigger— Oh, hell.
Her nipples were visible. But I couldn’t stop staring.
She looked like a goddess. Like a statue.
Like fucking Botticelli had pulled her out of his head and stuck her here in front of me.
I wanted to drop to my knees before her.
To worship at her fucking altar.
I needed to get the hell out of the museum.
I reached down and grabbed my hoodie from under the stroller. Thank Christ I’d had the wherewithal to take it off. It was mostly dry. I shoved it in her direction. I didn’t trust myself to look directly at her. Or to speak, apparently.
“Are you giving that to me?” she asked.
I nodded.
“That’s okay, you should wear it.”
I shook my head. Then I forced myself to find my words. “I’m fine. I’m super hot. Seriously, take it or I’ll just put it back under the stroller for now.”
Ellie hesitated, then finally took it from me. “Okay. If you insist.”
She pulled it over her head. I waited until I was pretty sure she’d tugged it all the way down before deeming her safe to look at again.
I was wrong. It was not safe. I thought the hoodie would be baggy on her, but it was snug over her breasts. And it was my hoodie. On her. Like I’d claimed her somehow.
Fuck.
She looked so good. But I felt like a garbage bag would look amazing on Ellie.
“I swear it wasn’t supposed to rain,” I said, dropping down on the bench in defeat. I’d have to just learn how to deal with Ellie looking hot all the time.
Ellie laughed as she sat down across from me. “It’s not your fault.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the loud thundering of rain on the roof. “Anyway, it’s kind of beautiful.”
Henry shrieked again and Ellie reached down under the stroller, pulling out a baby blanket, which she stretched over Henry, and a bottle.
Henry reached for it with grabby hands. “Bik!” he exclaimed.
It sounded a little like milk. He threw the thing back and started guzzling.
I was amazed. “He really likes milk, huh?”
“Breastmilk, anyway.”
“Is that what—” My cheeks heated. “Oh.”
“I started pumping when I went back to work,” she explained, lowering her voice slightly as the rain eased a little. “Now he refuses to breastfeed. So pumping it is. Silly goof. I couldn’t do it with Tommy though, so I’m happy doing it for a while longer.”
At my bewildered expression, she laughed. “Sorry. You don’t need to know the details.”
“No, I do. I mean, I want to. It’s just all new.”
Henry looked between us as he drank, like he wanted to hear it too. I couldn’t help laughing.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, slightly more noticeable now without the cover of the heavy rain. Henry’s bottle fell from his face again, his expression concerned.
“It’s okay buddy.” Ellie gently guided the bottle back to him, where he took it up again.
“Do you have questions?” Ellie asked me.
“About milk?”
She smiled. “Yes. Or any baby stuff.”
I felt like an idiot, but she was looking at me like she genuinely wanted to help.
“How do you pump your breasts?” I blurted out.
Ellie’s jaw actually fell open a little bit.
”I looked a lot of stuff up, but when I looked up milk, like breastmilk, I found some”—I cleared my throat—“not baby-related stuff.”
I’d learned there was such a thing as a lactation kink, but I’d quickly backed out of that, because what if I liked it? I was having enough trouble not thinking about Ellie without throwing new kinks into the mix.
She was watching me like I’d said all of that out loud.
I cleared my throat again. “I’m just trying to picture it and—” I felt very hot now. Itchy with embarrassment. “Is it like a cow?” I blurted. “Do you, you know—” I lifted my hands to do a milking gesture, then thank fuck thought better of it. “Do you point it in the bottle?”
For a moment, Ellie said nothing. Her eyes were wide and I was sure she was going to pack everything up and tell me to never speak to her again.
But she didn’t do that. She threw her head back and laughed so hard I swear she almost choked.
I didn’t care in the least that I was the reason she was laughing like that. Watching her was a fucking marvel.
When she finally calmed down, she took a breath, then said, “Technically, yes, you could just hand pump, and I guess point it at the bottle. I don’t think it would be very efficient though.
And it’s”—she blew out air, trying hard not to laugh again and failing—“it’s nothing like a cow.
” She explained that she used a pump that pumped her breast. She explained the process, which involved this apparatus she strapped on, and freezer bags.
She did it four times a day. Hearing her talk about how she had to find time and a private space to do that multiple times a day was shocking.
“Okay,” I said. I was impressed, and fascinated, but still trying hard not to picture her breasts. Which was difficult, because unfortunately, I remembered exactly how beautiful they looked. So big they spilled from my hands, the nipples pink and—
Thunder rumbled again, thankfully distracting me.
Henry dropped his bottle, his face crumpling, even though it was quieter now.
“Oh sweetheart.” Ellie reached over and unbuckled him as he began to wail. “It’s getting close to his nap time.”
But when she picked him up, her expression flashed to concern. “He’s freezing!”
She tucked the blanket against him, but he pushed off of her, crying louder. Her eyes went to me like I might have a solution.
I would. I’d figure this out. I scrambled to think of how to make this better.
It took a second, but a thought occurred to me that was probably extremely stupid.
Luckily or unluckily I was batting heavily in that direction anyway.
Plus, seeing her glance at the parking lot like she was going to suggest leaving, I decided to try it.
If it didn’t work, absolutely we’d go home to keep Henry warm.
“I have an idea,” I said. Before she could ask what it was, I reached my arm around the back of my neck and tugged at my t-shirt. Ellie’s expression turned confused, then my vision was blocked by the fabric going over my face. Once I could see again, her eyes were wide with alarm.
“Sam! What are you doing?”
I rubbed my bare chest with my shirt, but that didn’t make it dry enough, so I used my palm. “Hypothermia,” I explained.
“What?”
“When someone’s got hypothermia, they say putting them skin to skin is the fastest way to keep warm. It’s not really the same because he’s wearing his onesie thing, but he’s dry up top so he should be okay. With the blanket, of course. Can I try?”
Ellie looked down at Henry, still crying hard.
She handed him over. Her expression was dubious as I pressed him up against me, wrapping the blanket around his back.
At first, I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to work.
Henry cried even harder. So I stood, bouncing slightly, and began rubbing his back.
Henry’s cries began weakening. It took a minute, but when he stopped altogether, his body slackening against me, she smiled.
“Look at you,” she said.
Thunder rumbled again and Henry stiffened a little, whimpering, but I kept walking, pacing the space.
A moment later, he tucked his little arms in against my body, curling them under his chin.
He was so cute. And so soft and warm. When he’d been quiet a full few minutes, I lowered myself onto the bench next to Ellie so I wouldn’t have to speak so loudly. “Does he look okay?”
She smiled. “He’s asleep.”
Pride inflated my whole torso, threatening to wake my son up again. “I got him asleep?”
“You’re a natural.”
I quite honestly don’t think I’d ever been prouder. This could be my life’s work.