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Jake
"Okay, munchkin, time to dazzle Uncle Nate with that gummy smile," I say as I juggle our baby girl in one arm as Kaitlyn locks up the car. Her laughter is a melody that dances on the breeze, and for a moment, I'm floored by how much I love these two—my girls.
"Jake, you do realize she's already got him wrapped around her tiny finger, right?" Kaitlyn teases, adjusting the diaper bag on her shoulder as we approach Nate's front door.
"Of course, but practice makes perfect." I wink at her, my heart swelling in my chest. Our little lady has the best of us both—Kaitlyn's sun-streaked locks and my stubborn chin.
Nate swings open the door before we even knock, his grin wide and welcoming. "There's my favorite niece!" he booms, scooping her from my arms and into his. The sight of this big, burly pitcher turned gentle giant always cracks me up.
It didn’t take long before Nate came around to the idea of Kaitlyn being with me. Of course, the media’s approval didn’t hurt anything. I think Nate was just worried about his sister and being a protective big brother.
Which I can’t blame him.
"Hey, don't get too comfortable there, champ. We're coming back for her later," I remind him, playfully punching his shoulder.
"Wouldn't dream of keeping her," Nate chuckles, but his eyes are already softening like he's considering it. "You kids go have fun. Leave the parenting to the pro."
"Pro, huh?" Kaitlyn raises an eyebrow, the twinkle in her eye telling me she's ready for our night out. It's been ages since we've done this—just us, no diapers, no feedings, just her hand in mine and the promise of a few stolen hours.
"Yup! Now shoo. Lovebirds need their time," Nate says with a mock sternness that doesn't quite reach his gaze. He's turning toward the opulent living room, all high ceilings and laughter echoing off the walls, his protective presence a fortress against any possible harm.
"Be good, angel," I call out, and our daughter rewards me with a bubbly giggle that echoes after us as we walk away.
"Think she'll be okay without us?" Kaitlyn asks, her voice threaded with the strain of every new parent.
"Baby, she's with Nate. She'll be ruling the mansion by the time we pick her up," I reassure her, my fingers lacing with hers as we head down the cobblestone path.
"True," she sighs, leaning into me. "So, Mr. Umpire, where are you taking me tonight? Somewhere I can let loose?"
"Thought we'd start with dinner at that new Italian place, then maybe hit the boardwalk. Win you a teddy bear or something cheesy like that," I say, my lips curving into a smirk.
"Ooh, Jake Reynolds, you do know the way to a girl's heart," she laughs, her hazel eyes shining with mischief and something warmer, deeper—a flame that's only grown over the years.
"Only yours, Kaitlyn," I whisper, my breath catching as she stands on tiptoe to press her lips to mine, soft and sweet and promising more.
"Let's make it a night to remember, then," she murmurs against my mouth, and I'm struck by the fierce certainty that, with her, every moment is unforgettable.
"Count on it, babe," I reply.
Tonight, it's just Kaitlyn and me—and nothing else matters.
The click of the front door shutting behind us echoes like a starter pistol. The night's still young, but the real fun's about to begin. Kaitlyn's got that look in her eyes—the one that says she's all mine and ready for anything I've got.
"Jake," she breathes out my name like it's a fucking lifeline, her back pressed against the wall, her chest heaving.
"Shh," I hush her gently, my lips trailing down her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. "Tonight's about you, babe."
I lift her in my arms as though she weighs nothing, carrying her up the stairs with less effort than it takes to call a strike. Our bedroom's dark, but I know every inch of it. It's our sanctuary, where we shed the roles of parents and professionals, where it's just man and woman, raw and real.
"God, Jake," she whimpers as I lay her down on the bed, her body spread out before me like the finest feast. "Please."
"Patience, Kaitlyn," I chuckle lowly, my fingers unbuttoning her dress with practiced ease. Her breath catches. Anticipation ramps up another notch. Every piece of clothing that drops to the floor is a promise of what's to come.
Naked now, she's fucking magnificent. My gaze worships every curve, every scar, every inch of her that's seen life and love and pain. But it's between those thighs that I find my religion.
I take my time, kissing and licking my way slowly down her boy.
My wife.
