Page 98 of The Hermit on the Hill

He'd suggested I also go shirtless when I was carrying Aidan, but it was early March and still too chilly for that. I wore a sweater opened so Aidan was next to my skin, even if Sam didn't get the view he hoped for.

"There are my boys." I held my hand out to Sam.

Even after six months of living together, I still couldn't get enough of touching him. Oh, it wasn't all roses and happy times. We definitely had our arguments, especially when we were both sleep deprived, but the good times far outweighed the bad.

Sam slid his hand into mine. "How's it going?"

Looking over the piles of books in front of me, I stretched and yawned. I was both transcribing Sam's family journals for an academic database and writing a biography of Sam's family of midwives and folk practitioners.

I didn't have a publisher for it yet, because I didn't want the pressure of deadlines. It was exciting and fascinating. Mostly fascinating.

"Great. I was just about to take a break. Want me to take him so you can get some work done?"

"I worked while Aidan napped on me. I'm taking the rest of the day off."

I stared. Had I forgotten a holiday or an anniversary?

"Just because I want to and things are slow right now," Sam said. "Wanna take the day off with me?"

"What will we do?"

He grinned. "Play with Aidan until nap time and then have adult play time until he wakes up."

"Sounds good to me."

Since Aidan usually managed to stay awake for about an hour before falling asleep for another hour all day long, we'd have plenty of time for adult play, something the doctor had only recently given us the okay to get back to.

Sam kept hold of my hand and led me toward the living room, which had become Aidan's play room even though he was still too little to play with most of the toys.

"Hey, Aidan," Sam said in an overly bright voice. "It's Fluffy and Mistletoe."

Sure enough, Fluffy and Mistletoe were curled up together on the area rug. They'd become good buddies and were rarely apart.

"Is that a bow?" I stared at Fluffy. "He hates anything around his neck."

"You're right," Sam said. "You'd better—"

Aidan grunted, and an overwhelming stink filled the room.

Aidan screaming like he was offended by the smell drowned out whatever else Sam had been about to say.

Fluffy, who hated it when Aidan cried and wasn't at all sure about the baby even when Aidan was silent, took off like a shot with Mistletoe close on his heels.

I watched them go. There was definitely a big bow on Fluffy. What the heck was going on?

I looked to Sam for an explanation, but he was bouncing Aidan in the carrier, trying to get him to calm down. With every bounce, a dark brown, viscous liquid dripped from the bottom of the carrier and ran down Sam's hard abs and onto his sweatpants.

"Uh, Sam," I shouted over our screaming son. "It's a blowout."

Sam stopped bouncing, his face twisting in disgust.

Sam was amazing with Aidan. He was an attentive and caring father, but he didn't handle the bodily fluids well. At least not so far. He changed diapers, and he cleaned spit-up, but he always looked a bit green for a good hour after.

"We'll all get into the shower together. How about that? Aidan loves showers."

Together, the three of us went upstairs and into the big master bath shower. Aidan quieted as soon as I turned on the dual shower heads. The falling water fascinated him.

Sam put his hands on the waistband of his sweats as though to take them off.

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