But the little guy seemed utterly addicted to Lizetta's embrace. The moment he felt someone touching him, he instantly wriggled deeper into her arms.
His tiny fists fiercely gripped Lizetta's hospital gown, leaving Remington staring at a defensively raised little bum.
Remington tested his grip, genuinely unsure of where to even start.
But the man was deeply dissatisfied with the way this pint-sized intruder was hogging his woman without an ounce of respect.
Remington reached out, forcefully sliding his hands under the baby's knees. Before he could even lift, the toddler let out a sleepy, irritable grunt and kicked him squarely in the chest, breaking completely free of his grasp.
Remington let out a dry, exasperated laugh. He had been bustling around doing manual labor for this kid, and this was the thanks he got? Zero gratitude.
Hogging his woman, stealing his spot in bed, and having the audacity to kick him on top of it all.
Just perfect.
Remington's lips tightened into a thin line. Just as he prepared to enforce some strict discipline, Lizetta hugged the baby closer and said,
"Let him sleep here for now. I haven't seen him in days; I've actually really missed him."
The line of Remington's mouth grew impossibly colder. In the very next second, completely ignoring anyone's preferences, the man ruthlessly plucked the tiny creature out of the soft, warm embrace.
Ron kept his eyes firmly shut, one little hand still clutching desperately at the fabric of Lizetta's chest, putting up a valiant fight in his sleep.
"Hey, what are you doing! Don't wake him up..."
Seeing Remington pry the tiny fingers open one by one, Lizetta felt a headache coming on. She sat up to stop him, but Remington swiftly detached the baby and hoisted him away.
Settled into Remington's arms, Ron's face scrunched up. His tiny nose twitched like a puppy sniffing for a familiar scent.
Catching the scent of Remington's cologne-definitely not the soft fragrance he craved the little guy's lip wobbled in an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.
But he was simply too exhausted. His eyelids fluttered uselessly before his head flopped sideways against Remington's chest.
Still, the baby's tiny brows were furrowed in a deep, bitter scowl. Remington seriously suspected the kid was cursing him out in his sleep.
Arching an eyebrow, Remington gave the boy's diaper-padded bottom two light pats
and dropped him unceremoniously into the crib.
A second later, the man swung his long legs onto the hospital bed, lay down, and hauled Lizetta right into his arms.
"You are unbelievable... Tell me, Mr. Dashiell, exactly how many months old are you? Fighting with Ron for space in bed..."
Lizetta didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
But Remington just held her tight, tightening his arms and burying his handsome face in the crook of her neck, nuzzling against her. After taking a deep breath of her scent, he looked up his eyes dancing with amusement.
"No wonder the brat didn't want to move. My wife is soft, smells incredible, and is perfect for holding."
Lizetta scoffed. "Who said I'm your wife? Watch your words."
Remington pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then trailed his mouth to the corner of her
smirk, planting another kiss there before murmuring,
"You're letting me kiss you like this, and you're still denying you're my wife?"
As he spoke, he wove his hand into her hair, deepening the kiss.
Constantly aware of the tiny person sleeping fight next to them, Lizetta couldn't entirely lose herself in the e moment. As a result, the man delivered a light, punishing bie to
the tip of her tongue.
A sharp sting flared, making her open her eyes as Remington finally pulled back.
Seeing her eyes misty and her beautiful brows slightly furrowed in pain, a gleam of triumphant, wicked satisfaction flashed in his eyes.
"You're ignoring me too much just because he's here."
"I am not."
"You were completely distracted while kissing me. Still going to deny it? Didn't that deserve a punishment?"
He sounded so incredibly righteous, as if she had committed a severe, unforgivable crime.