A mother walks up next to us and places her daughter in the swing next to ours.
“Showtime,” I whisper into Eric’s ear. “Now, the trick isn’t getting the girl…it’s keeping her once you’ve got her. You need to keep it fresh, excite her when she least expects it and always make her know how much she means to you. I’m not saying you have to marry the first girl you nab, but if she’s the one you love, always make sure you tell her. Never let her wonder—that reminds me,” I say, pulling back the swing for a second to whip out my cell phone. I swipe my thumb across the screen and compose a new text message.
Me: Roar.
I grin watching as the little gray cloud appears and two seconds later my phone chimes.
Kitten: Meow. XOXO
It chimes again when I’m about to put my phone away.
Kitten: I just finished drying my nails. Where are you guys?
Me: By the swings.
Kitten: Did Eric get any dates?
Me: Still working on it.
Kitten: LOL. See you in a few.
I pocket my phone and lean close to Eric.
“Mommy’s on her way,” I say, giving him another push and watch him eye the girl on the swing next to him. “That’s my boy! Get her Tiger!”
The girl squeals and Eric doesn’t take his eyes off her. Her mom pushes her higher, and she turns to Eric and sticks her tongue out at him.
“Oh, the little vixen is playing hard to get,” I hiss, pushing Eric a drop higher.
“How old is he?” The mother asked.
“He’ll be one next month,” I reply, biting back the cringe as I ask her how old her daughter is, preparing myself for the math equation. “How old is she?”
“Seventeen months and three days,” she replies proudly.
See, math equation. Why couldn’t she say the kid was one?
“Nice,” I reply, leaning into Eric’s ear. “She’s a cougar.”
“There are my boys!”
I turn around at the sound of Lauren’s voice and smirk as she completely brushes passed me and goes straight for our son.
“There’s my little guy,” she coos, reaching for him.
Knowing the drill, I pull my baseball hat off my head and run my fingers through my hair. It’ll take Kitten a good ten seconds of lovin’ on our boy before she even realizes I’m here. She takes him out of the swing and brings him against her chest, showering him with kisses—totally ruining his game.
Her blue eyes zero in on me and her grin widens as she leans forward, covering my mouth with hers. I wrap my arm around her waist, slide my hand into the back pocket of her jeans and press her against me, sandwiching Eric between us as I kiss her until he wails.
“Hi baby, how was your afternoon?” She asks me, setting Eric down on his wobbly feet and taking hold of his hand. He just started walking and takes more falls than he does steps but he’s determined.
Determination is something our kid has in spades.
He was a fighter from the day he took his first breath.
“It was good. We went for lunch, had some pizza, a few beers and now here we are.”
I grab the carriage, follow her out of the swing area as she and Eric lead the way. My eyes dip down to her ass, which has gotten slightly rounder since Eric was born, her breasts are bigger too—not that I’m complaining. I’m an ass and tits kind of guy, well, not really, I’m just a Kitten kind of guy. Anything she’s selling, I’m buying.
“I saw a pretzel stand over there. Why don’t we go feed the ducks?” She asks over her shoulder, running after Eric as he found his groove and has taken off toward the pond.
“I’ll grab the pretzel,” I offer, pushing the empty carriage along to the pretzel guy. I order a pretzel and two hotdogs, one I scoff down before even making my way back to Lauren and the baby. I hand her the hotdog, but she shakes her head, taking a bite of the pretzel instead. Breaking off a piece of pretzel, she crouches down next to our son and hands it to him, showing him how to feed it to the ducks waddling around them.
Watching Lauren with Eric was like watching a dream come true. We talked a lot about dreams, it was Lauren’s thing, and I might sound like a pussy but it was becoming my thing too. I loved the nights we lay in bed after screwing each other senseless where Lauren would tell me all her dreams. Her dreams became my dreams, and I vowed to make our dreams come true. Every last one of them, and after all her dreams come true, I’ll make her dream some more.
“Let’s have another,” I blurt.
“Another what?” She asks as she breaks off another piece of the pretzel. “There is plenty here,” she adds, naively holding up half of the pretzel.
“Let’s make another baby,” I clarify, pulling off my sunglasses and turning my hat around so when she lifts her head and stares into my eyes she’ll see I’m serious.