Page 38 of Untroubled Heart

“Of course not.” Jesus, who would mind a mother feeding her baby?

I stretch my legs in front of me, looking out to the water as I take another bite of my cookie. “Izzy does it all the time. I’ve helped feed my niece, too,” I say, looking over to her now, and holy fuck, her boob is out. HER BOOB. IS. OUT! Of course it’s out. She’s breastfeeding her daughter. When she asked, for some reason, my mind imagined a bottle because Izzy mix feeds and I clearly can’t think straight around Callie. It’s not like I can see her nipple. Navie’s in the way. I mean, not in the way; she’s right where she should be, so she can feed. But my assistant just whipped her breast out, and I didn’t think that would be the first time I’d see it. No! Wait! She’s my assistant—there’s no situation in which I would see her breasts. Except, clearly, this one. Fuck, no one else better have seen this.

“Oh, damnit, I forgot to grab my drink bottle,” Callie says, unaware of my internal freak-out. “Would you mind? It’s just in the basket under the pram.”

I nod, scanning the area as I search through the pram basket, making sure no one else is looking. Passing the drink back to her, I keep my eyes trained forward. This is weird. Isabelle has fed B heaps of times in front of us, and I couldn’t have cared less. Why, with Callie, is the only thing my brain can focus on is: Her boob’s out. Her boob’s out. Her boob’s out.

Get a grip, Mason.

“I think I might get a drink myself. That cookie made me thirsty.” I chuckle, throwing a thumb over my shoulder as I race back to the cookie stand. Callie’s only a few meters away, so I can still keep an eye on her as I pull my phone from my pocket and bring up a text thread with my brother.

ME:

Question… did you freak out the first time you saw Izzy breastfeed?

While I wait for Gage to respond, I decide to do a quick internet search. That is a rabbit hole I never thought I’d go down, and I’m not sure I’ve come out better or worse for it. Focusing on the parts that my brain can somewhat handle, I’ve learned women’s nipples are more sensitive. Some partners get turned on because the act is so nurturing, it makes them feel more connected, admiring how their partners provide for their child. Others feel a powerful attraction to the sight of the milk production, a primal part of the brain linking it to femininity. My cock twitches at imagining a bead of milk as it slips down the curve of Callie’s breast, and that settles it—I’m clearly a caveman.

Thankfully, a notification drops down that Gage has texted me back. Maybe he has some reassuring words.

GAGE:

Are you looking to get slapped?

ME:

I’m being serious!

GAGE:

Okay then, seriously, don’t ask me about my wife’s breasts!

ME:

Come on!!! It’s not appealing, like, at all???

I pocket my phone when the lady behind the register greets me, and I grab a bottle of water. By the time I head back to Callie, her tank top and overalls are back in place, and Navie is totally milk-drunk. Her little mouth is popped open with milk gathered in the corner, eyes shut, and one arm stretched over her head—she looks so fucking adorable. And Callie… well, Callie looks hot. Is it the nurturing thing? I haven’t seen her in mum mode before.

“So she was just hangry before?” I chuckle.

“Yeah,” Callie says, with a smile that’s all for her daughter. She stares down at Navie like she hung the moon, and I hope I’m not half as obvious when I look at Callie—like she hung every damn star.

She brings Navie to her shoulder and stands from the bench, then lowers her carefully into the pram.

“Time for us to head home, and for you to make your club appearance.” She releases the brake on the pram and starts heading back slowly in the direction we came.

I fall in step beside her, forcing myself to move because I have no desire to go to the club anymore. If I had my choice, I’d keep sitting here with Callie.

“Thank you for walking with us, and for the cookie.” She holds up her half-eaten cookie before taking a bite.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I ran into you.”

“You are?” She chuckles. “Why?”

“It’s just nice getting to know each other better.” I shrug, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Especially now I know you’re going through some stuff at home. It helps me know how I can support you, I mean not just you, like, my friends in general. You said you’re a fixer? I get that, I think I’m a little like that too.”

“Can I say something, maybe a little too forward?”

Well, this oughta be good. “Sure.”