Crossbred Son Read Online Free Page B

first.”
    That was easier said than done. Michael was in perpetual motion, moving an arm or leg, just as Gabe reached for the fabric to maneuver a limb out, rolling while Gabe was trying to work fasteners.
    “How does your mother do this?” he inquired calmly. The warrior in him wanted to pin the squirming and flailing infant down and force his clothing off.
    Not the right answer, Gabe. Definitely not right.
    The tub had the prerequisite five or six inches of water for an infant bath in it long before Gabe lifted a very naked Michael to settle him inside. He stopped halfway at the sensation of the spreading wet spot on his shirt. A look of disbelief down at the tapering stream of urine later, Gabe scowled at his son, earning him a peel of laughter from the plump face.
    “You think I deserved that, do you?” Gabe cocked one eyebrow up. “Can I assume you’ve similarly christened your mother?”
    Michael clapped and reached for the water.
    “I see. I guess that’s all right then.” Maybe this was a rite of acceptance Gabe didn’t know about.
    Or maybe young ones have no control over releasing their bladders.
    He deposited Michael in the water and pulled his fouled shirt off, tossing it for the open hamper.
    His jeans were halfway off when Gabe looked down again. His heart stuttered, and he reached for Michael, then pulled up short. When he’d seen the young one lying back in the bathtub, he’d flashed on the training tapes he’d seen about drowning.
    “ An infant can drown in less than two inches of water.”
    But Michael wasn’t drowning. He was floating on his back, his arms spread wide, his feet kicking lightly. Gabe placed a hand to cushion Michael’s head at the moment he would have hit the drain side of the tub.
    Michael looked up at him, smiled, and scrambled to sitting again. He took a faceful of water, sneezed, and rubbed his face with a pudgy little hand. A moment later, he patted the water and looked up at Gabe expectantly.
    “You’re right. I’m doing this wrong. Aren’t I?”
    Gabe peeled off his damp jeans, tossed them in the hamper, and climbed into the tub with Michael. He picked up a lightweight washcloth and the clove bath gel and started bathing his son. All the while, he hummed the Xxanian welcoming song.

 
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
    From her bedroom, Abby heard the bath water gushing down the pipe. Gabe would be coming out of the bathroom with Michael soon. Though their son’s baths were always amusing, she hadn’t wanted to intrude on Gabe’s time with Michael.
    He’s had little enough of it, and if he really wants nothing to do with me, he’s not going to see Michael nearly as much as either of us want him to.
    That bothered her. A lot. Abby paced the floor, her nerves jumping. If she had a larger apartment, she’d consider suggesting Gabe move in with them. Or she’d consider moving in with Gabe, if he offered, but neither of them had an apartment big enough for all of them.
    Assuming he’s in the same apartment I walked out of. She winced at that. For all she knew, Gabe had a new apartment and a steady girlfriend. He’d had seven months to find one, after all.
    No. I won’t think about that. Not right now.
    Who am I kidding? It was all she could think about. Had Gabe found someone else? Would he choose that relationship over one with her.
    Relationship? Now I know I’m demented. Gabe hadn’t given the slightest indication that he wanted anything but a relationship with Michael. Michael and answers.
    The door opened, and Gabe chatted his way to the nursery with Michael.
    That’s my cue. Abby let herself into the hall and ducked into the bathroom with the intentions of brushing her hair and teeth.
    The room smelled pleasantly of clove. That brought back potent memories of Gabe using his favorite clove bath gel on her while they had sex in the shower. Before she knew it, Abby was lost in daydreams of one of those times.
    Gabe’s touch was soft and knowing. He’d been