Gentleman Sinner(118)
Callum yanks at the straps, jerking me back a little. ‘Safe as houses.’ He rounds me and puts his arms out for me to pass him Lola. ‘Come see Uncle Callum,’ he coos, losing everything masculine about him. I shouldn’t pass comment. Since Izzy bulldozed into my life, my masculinity has diminished a little every day. Then Lola arrived and any testosterone that was remaining disintegrated at the mere sight of her.
‘You sound like a girl,’ I say for the sake of it as I pass her over, ignoring his high eyebrows. ‘Be careful with her.’
‘Fuck off.’ It’s a lame attempt to win some manliness back. He lifts Lola and blows a raspberry on her romper-covered belly, and she chuckles. I scowl, taking my palms to her ears and covering them, glaring at Callum. ‘Sorry.’ He shrugs and returns his attention to my laughing daughter, while I look down to the contraption that’s now strapped to my chest. I pull out a pad of material, concluding it’s where Lola should slot in. She’s suddenly dangling before me, Callum holding her out.
‘In here?’ I point to the most obvious place and Callum nods, bringing Lola forward and aiming her legs for the holes. ‘No, she faces outward,’ I tell him. ‘So she can see around.’
Callum turns her in his arms with a roll of his eyes and starts again. I take her tiny ankles and help guide them down until she’s slotted into position. Then she begins to shout again, clearly losing her patience with the two oafs scratching their heads over a simple baby carrier.
‘Okay, princess,’ I soothe, jiggling her a little, ensuring she’s safe while Callum finds two Velcro straps and fixes them in place. ‘Comfy?’ I ask her, dropping my lips to the back of her head and inhaling. ‘Damn, I’ll never get enough of that smell.’ It’s like a potent injection of life into me each time I take a hit. Lifting my head, I find Callum grinning at me. ‘What?’
‘Nothing.’ He reaches for Lola’s head and strokes over her fine covering of soft dark hair. ‘She’s growing by the day.’
I look down proudly, feeling her comforting weight on my chest. ‘She has her daddy’s appetite.’
‘I just hope she doesn’t inherit her daddy’s build.’
I toss him a dirty look. ‘She’s Izzy through and through.’ I’m smiling again when Lola starts kicking her little legs against me, each hit enhancing the feel of contentment residing deep inside me. I had nothing to fear where touching is concerned. Not with my daughter. She pulls and grabs at me and it doesn’t faze me in the slightest. It feels right, somehow. Natural.
From the moment she arrived, things changed. She was like an instant cure. A miracle. She’s my little miracle. My handicap vanished like it was never there, and the weight that disappeared from my shoulders with it was almost too overpowering to bear. People can touch me, and for the first time since that awful day when I turned on my father, I don’t react. Not even when I’m not expecting it. My brain is always switched on, and Lola is always at the forefront of it. My only handicap now is my crippling love for her.
With a smile of wonder, I drop one more kiss on to the back of her head and she shouts, thrashing again, reminding me that she’s hungry.
A hand lands on my upper arm, and I look up to find Callum regarding me with a tiny smile on his face. He knows what I’m thinking. He appreciates the wonder that has me taking stock most days. After I’ve returned his smile, he drops his hold and clears his throat, locating his lost testosterone. ‘Come on, you giant pussy.’ He turns and strides to the door, yanking it open and disappearing through it. I clear my throat, too, striding after him . . . with Lola strapped to my chest.
As I descend the stairs to the entrance hall, Jefferson appears, holding a tray with Lola’s bottle sitting in the centre. ‘And how is the lady of the house this evening?’ he asks, his eyes glittering behind his round specs at the sight of my daughter. On cue, Lola starts bucking against my front, her hands bunching and flexing as Jefferson nears with her milk. ‘Ooh, someone’s hungry,’ he chuckles, stopping before me and offering me the tray. I take the bottle and shake it, flipping the lid off and squirting a bit on my wrist while Lola gets more vocal. ‘Perfect temperature,’ Jefferson informs me. I know it will be, but habit prevents me from taking his word for it.
‘Thanks, Jefferson.’ I turn and follow Callum to the corridor that leads to the Playground. I pick up my pace when Lola’s cries of hunger become more piercing, landing in the office quickly and hurrying to get her out of the straps on my chest. ‘Okay, princess,’ I soothe, hating the sound of her distressed sobs. Finding my chair, I cradle her in my arms and take the bottle to her mouth. She latches on and drinks ravenously, going soft and still in my arms. I breathe out and relax as Callum takes a seat opposite me. ‘What have you got to tell me?’
‘Your mother’s been upsetting Penny again.’ He rolls his eyes, following my lead.
‘What about this time?’ Penny took charge of the girls more than a year ago, and my mother wasn’t best pleased. It’s like managing two bitching schoolgirls, for fuck’s sake.
‘I don’t know. If Penny says it’s black, Judy says it’s white.’
‘I’ll have a word.’ I sigh, quickly checking Lola in my arms. Her little chubby hands are holding the bottle over mine, her eyes fixed on me. ‘What about the fight schedule?’ I ask, ripping my eyes away from her. It’s always a challenge.