Boone

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Boone Page 19

by Emily March


  “Baby and babysitters,” Hannah mused. “That’s inspired, Celeste.”

  “Yes, well, I do tend to be inspirational.”

  The women began arriving a few minutes later. Hannah had met many of them at Jackson’s wedding, and other faces she recognized from the businesses in town. To a person, they were friendly and excited for Boone. The bar soon grew crowded with casseroles and Crock-Pots and cookies, of course, as everyone waited for the star of the show and her father to wake up.

  Finally, Celeste arched a brow toward Hannah. “Dear, I think I might have heard Brianna beginning to stir. Boone must have fallen asleep. Would you please go wake him up so he can introduce his daughter to his guests, and we can get this party started?”

  Me? Hannah glanced around the deck, looking for another volunteer, but everyone simply looked at her expectantly.

  “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

  On the way to Boone’s bedroom, she peeked in the nursery. Brianna was sleeping soundly. Under other circumstances, she might be tempted to let Boone sleep too—Hannah understood his exhaustion very well. But the man had a deck full of guests, so she made her way to his bedroom and knocked lightly on the door. “Boone?”

  Nothing.

  She waited a moment, then knocked a little harder, called a little louder. “Boone?”

  Nothing.

  The third time she banged. “Boone!”

  From the nursery came the cry, “Waaaaa!”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” The man was going to have to turn on his daddy radar and wake up at the sound of a crying infant. She opened his bedroom door, peeked inside, and froze.

  He lay asleep on his bed, a forearm over his eyes, naked, the towel that must have been wrapped around his waist loosened and lying open. Hannah had known he was a beautiful man, but seeing him here, like this, she thought breathtaking the more appropriate adjective. Or maybe delicious. Definitely delicious with a dark, sun-kissed complexion and shoulders as broad as Texas. A light mat of dark hair stretched across his chest and narrowed down a flat torso ripped with cords of muscle to—whoa. Well, they did claim that everything was bigger in Texas.

  “Waa … waa … waa.”

  He startled awake, jackknifed up, and caught her staring.

  “I knocked,” she declared, her tone defensive. “Three times.”

  He blinked once. Twice. Then his gray eyes warmed with a wicked glimmer. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “I know. That’s why I looked in.” The baby cried again, which poured frigid water over the rising sensual heat of the moment. Hannah kept her gaze focused intently upon Boone’s face as she snapped, “Hurry and get dressed. Your daughter needs you. And you have guests. Lots of them.”

  She drew back and pulled the door shut behind her with a bit of a bang, then walked quickly toward the sound of the fussing baby. Thankfully, she hadn’t worked up to wail yet, but if Bree wasn’t tended to soon, that’s what would happen. Better to get a bottle into her mouth before she got to the shrieking stage.

  Unless, hmm. Wonder when Celeste had fed her last? Maybe Bree didn’t need to eat. Hannah always kept a list of when her infants nursed and how long the feeding took. Boone needed to keep track of Bree’s feedings and have it available for his babysitters.

  She started talking to the infant the moment she entered the nursery. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. We’ll get you fixed up.” She lifted the infant from the crib, clucking her tongue. “Well, I know part of the problem. You need a new diaper. We have some overflow going on. First let’s see where we are with the bottle situation, and then we’ll get you changed.”

  Boone, being Boone, had created a feeding station for the nursery, complete with a mini-fridge stocked with pre-mixed bottles of formula and a bottle warmer. Working from experience and with the baby cradled snugly in one arm, she placed a bottle in the warmer and switched it on. Then she set Brianna down atop the changing table and clicked her tongue. “You need a new outfit also. We’ve had some spillage here.”

  Just then Boone strode into the nursery wearing faded jeans, scuffed boots, and a gray T-shirt advertising Enchanted Canyon Wilderness School that complimented his eyes. “Hey. What do—”

  “Here,” Hannah interrupted and stepped aside. Because she was embarrassed at being caught gawking at him, her tone was snappish as she continued, “Finish changing her diaper and then offer her the bottle. She needs new clothes too, and you’ll want one of the outfits we bought in Fort Worth. I’ll go get the bag.”

  “But—”

  Hannah didn’t wait. She sailed out of the nursery and from the house. A woman with thick red hair and big brown eyes whom Hannah didn’t recognize walked up the path carrying a Tupperware dish and a pack of disposable diapers. Hannah pasted on a smile and called, “Everyone is on the deck. You’ll see the steps in front.”

  “Great. I’m Hope Romano, by the way. You must be Hannah. Welcome to Eternity Springs.”

  “Thank you. Nice to meet you, Hope.”

  Boone’s SUV sat where he’d left it upon their arrival. It took her a little time to unearth the particular bags she wanted—a trio packed to overflowing from a boutique on the west side of Fort Worth. She toted them back inside the house to the nursery, where she found Boone seated in the rocker with Bree slurping at a bottle.

  “Should she be making this much noise when she eats? She snorts like a piglet at the teat.”

  “I wouldn’t know about piglets,” Hannah replied. She let the bags drop to the floor. “Some babies are loud eaters. Boone, I think half of the female half of Eternity Springs is outside waiting to meet Brianna. Which outfit do you want her to wear?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re going to want to pick something soft because she’s bound to be passed around a lot. Decide now if you want to go with hair bows. You need to get little girls accustomed to them early. If you present her with a hair bow, your babysitters will know you support the look, and they will too.”

  “Wait a minute. Hold on. Can we start over here, please? First, don’t be getting all weird on me because you saw me naked. Remember, I looked in on you while you slept, so turnabout is fair play. When I’m exhausted, I sleep like the dead.”

  Hannah did her best to ignore the warm flush of her cheeks. “Well, you’re going to have to do something about that. You might need to put Bree’s bassinet next to your bed.”

  “Good idea. I’ll do that tonight. So what’s this about a crowd of women?”

  “It’s Celeste’s plan. We should let her explain it. Have you burped Brianna?”

  “No.” He grimaced. “I tried once, but getting the bottle away from her was like wrestling an alligator. She won.”

  Hannah sighed. “Give her to me. I’ll finish feeding her, and you pick out something to wear.”

  “Okay.” He rose from the rocker, and Hannah smoothly took hold of both the baby and bottle. Boone scowled. “You make that look so easy.”

  “Practice.” Hannah placed the baby on her shoulder and patted her back hard. Almost immediately, she was rewarded with a loud belch, and the unmistakable sound of a baby filling up her diaper.

  “Again?” Boone grumbled. “I just changed her. I may need to float a loan to buy diapers.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes and nodded toward the bags. “Outfit.”

  He began rifling through the bags. “What do I pick? A onesie? A sleeper? A dress? A sunsuit? There’s too much to choose from.”

  “And whose fault is that?” she asked drily. “Brianna is making her Eternity Springs debut, Boone. Work it. And do it in about ninety seconds. We are almost done here, and again, you have guests dying to meet this little angel.”

  “Ahh. Angel. That’s it.” He dug through the clothes until he’d unearthed a pale-pink gingham dress with a band of smocking across the bodice where little angels turned somersaults above a field of flowers. “Celeste is gonna love this one.”

  He’d chosen the entire outfit himself, so he knew w
hat items he needed. White socks with pink gingham ruffles. A diaper cover embroidered with the baby’s initials—a B and a C on either side of an M. And the pièce de résistance—a soft white headband with a gingham rosette surrounded by leaves shaped like angel wings.

  The outfit was so over the top. That made it perfect for this particular moment. “Good job, Daddy.”

  “Will you do the honors?” he begged. “It might take me until midnight.”

  “Sure.” Hannah quickly changed Bree’s diaper, got her into the dress, and wrestled on the socks, cooing and talking to the infant all the while. “Now then. Let’s see about this bow. It’ll be easier if you hold her, Boone.”

  “Okay.”

  “Get a spit cloth first.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He took a plain white cloth from a drawer and tossed it over his left shoulder. Hannah handed him the baby, fixed the bow, then took a step back. Her throat went tight. She blinked back tears. “Precious. Simply precious.”

  “She is the world’s cutest baby,” Boone said, pride ringing in his voice.

  And she has the world’s cutest daddy. “Let’s do this thing, Daddy. But give me about a fifteen-second head start. I want to see these women’s reactions when you walk in.”

  “Okay.”

  As Hannah walked down the hallway, she heard him start singing to Bree, using the tune he’d made up sometime during the past forty-eight hours with words that changed depending on the circumstance. He had verses for diaper changing, bottle mixing, and getting strapped in the car seat. Now he sang, “Brianna C., Brianna C. Gonna meet my friends, Miss Brianna C. They’ll ooh and ah and coo, and then we’ll all agree. You are the best, my Brianna C., Daddy’s world champion baby, my Brianna C.”

  Misty-eyed, Hannah walked out onto the deck and snagged a glass of champagne. Celeste met her gaze and arched a questioning brow. “They’ll be right out.”

  * * *

  As Boone caught sight of the crowd on his deck, his one regret was that his immediate family wasn’t here to share this moment. However, his extended family had shown up in spades—the female half of it, anyway. The men must be home with the children.

  There had to be close to twenty women here. He spied Nic Callahan, Sage Rafferty, Ali Timberlake, and Sarah Murphy. Kat Davenport. Maggie Romano. Rose Cicero and Shannon Garrett, to name just a few. Hannah stood off to one side with Celeste and Gabi Brogan. He saw pink and white balloons, a small mountain of disposable diapers, and a table laden with food. Wow. Just wow. Celeste had pulled this together in a few hours. He shouldn’t be surprised, but he was. He was also just a tiny bit nervous—something totally out of character for him. This was a crowd of mothers and a few grandmothers known for holding “interventions” when one of them was in the process of making a big mistake. Were they prepared to pounce on him in an attempt to convince him that he’d bitten off more than he could chew?

  No. They wouldn’t have brought balloons if that were the case. Balloons were for celebrations, not interventions.

  He drew in a deep breath. “Are you ready, Bree? It’s showtime.”

  He walked out onto the deck with his daughter in his arms and gratitude in his heart.

  The women went wild over Brianna. Everyone wanted to hold her, but Rose Cicero donned her physician’s hat and suggested they limit the number to avoid overstimulation. Experienced mothers all, no one argued. Instead they came up with a game in order to choose the lucky pairs of arms and included Hannah by asking her to choose five random dates throughout the year. The person with the closest birthday got to hold Bree.

  That done, Celeste presented her nanny plan, and while Boone scarfed down his supper—he loved potluck—his friends and neighbors passed around the babysitting schedule sign-up sheet. Before he’d worked his way to dessert, he had sitters from nine AM to nine PM every day for the next eight weeks.

  Celeste took a photo of the schedule with her phone, then handed the paper to Boone. “You’ll have to handle nights on your own, but you’re a competent man. You’ll manage just fine, and frankly, it’s a life experience you need to have.”

  Well, now. Hmm. Beggars can’t be choosers, he knew, but he’d been running on fumes after one night of every-two-hour feedings.

  “She’s right,” Nic Callahan added. “Sleep deprivation is a rite of parental passage.”

  To a person, everyone on the deck nodded.

  Boone frowned. Capable. Okay, he was that. He could handle the nights. Now that they were home, he would get Bree on a schedule. He was good at schedules. Shoot, he might have her sleeping through the night by the end of the week.

  Okay, that was probably optimistic.

  Speaking to the larger group, Celeste continued, “I’ll upload the list to an editable Google document and send everyone the link. If you need to trade days or times, it’s your responsibility to find a sub and update the schedule. We will suspend the schedule when Boone’s nanny arrives in town and is ready to work. If she suffers a delay in her recovery, I’ll ask for volunteers to extend the schedule one week at a time. How does that sound to everyone?”

  Celeste’s nanny plan was adopted by general consent.

  Since Boone had yet to find time in his schedule for a housewarming party, almost everyone wanted the grand tour of his home before the party began wrapping up. By eight, everyone but Hannah had departed. He’d managed to sweet-talk her into hanging around while he unloaded the SUV.

  As he carried a stack of boxes into the nursery at ten past the hour, Hannah glanced up from tending to a nearly naked baby on the changing table. “Are you almost done?”

  “This is the last of it.”

  “Good timing. This little girl is ready for her bath, a bottle, and her bassinet, I believe. I’ll leave you to it.”

  Boone stopped abruptly. “A bath? Wait a minute. We skipped that part last night, and I forgot to look it up on YouTube. I’ve never given a baby a bath. I don’t know how to give a baby a bath. Will you teach me?”

  “Oh, Boone.”

  “Please?” When Hannah sighed heavily, he pressed. “Baths are the most intimidating part of this process. Is there an order you should use when washing body parts? How warm should you have the water? What do you do if she starts squirming? How do you hold her to make sure she doesn’t squirt right out of your arms?”

  “Okay. Okay. Okay,” she said. “Here’s what I’m going to do. One time, McBride. I’ll stay and go through the entire bedtime routine this one time if you promise not to ask me again.”

  “I promise.”

  “I mean it, Boone. No more going lawyer on me. You’re too good at it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That wasn’t a compliment.”

  “Ouch.”

  Hannah wrapped the infant in a blanket and picked her up. “First lesson, leave Bree’s diaper on until you’re ready to put her into the water.”

  “Got it.”

  She walked into the bathroom and turned on the heater. “The room doesn’t need to be hot, but you’ll want it a little warmer than it is now. I know you said you forgot to buy clothes before you went to Texas, but does that include swaddles? Do you have any sleep swaddles that already have been laundered?”

  “I do. The store clerk who helped me order the bassinet suggested it.” He opened one of the dresser drawers, removed a garment, and showed it to Hannah along with a sheepish smile. “Unfortunately, it’s blue with footballs.”

  “She’s not going to be traumatized because she wears something that isn’t pink.”

  “Hey, I bought quite a few gender-neutral things at that baby shop in Fort Worth,” he grumbled.

  Hannah ignored his grousing and continued her lecture, instructing him to set out everything he would need after the bath beforehand. He fixed a bottle of formula and placed it in the warmer. Once he had a washcloth, hooded towel, baby wash, lotion, diaper, and clothes ready to go, she had him add a few inches of warm water to the baby bathtub. He asked, “How w
arm?”

  “Do what you think is right, and I’ll test it.”

  He spent a ridiculous amount of time adjusting the water. He got distracted a time or two when their gazes met in the mirror, and sexual awareness sparked between them. The bathroom wasn’t small by any measure, but with all three of them inside the warmed room, it felt tiny, the moment, intimate.

  Finally, Brianna emitted a little squawk and brought Boone’s attention back to the business at hand. “What do you think?”

  She tested the temperature with the inside of her wrist. “I’m a little warm, I think.”

  I’m warm?

  “It’s warm,” she quickly corrected. “The water’s too warm.”

  “Ah. Yeah. Gotcha. Better cool things off.”

  He added some cold water to the bath. Hannah checked the temperature and nodded, “Okay, you’re ready.”

  “Not at all sure I am,” Boone said.

  “Sure you are. Now take off her diaper and hand her to me. I’ll show you how to hold her, and you can do the honors.”

  “I think this will go better if you do it and let me watch. I learn better by watching than by doing.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute,” she replied. “You’re chicken.”

  “Cluck cluck.” He removed Brianna’s diaper, then handed the naked baby to Hannah. She demonstrated how to keep the infant’s head and back supported and lowered her gently and expertly into the water.

  Boone wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but loud wailing similar to infant baptisms in church probably topped his list. Instead, Brianna took her bath in stride, kicking her little legs and batting her tiny fists around. “I think she likes it.”

  “My girls always loved bath time.”

  Hannah showed Boone how to wash the baby’s hair and face, smiling and speaking to Bree rather than the man standing next to her. She mentioned something he’d never heard of called cradle cap and cautioned him to use the washcloth to clean Bree’s ears. “Spit-up has a way of finding its way into every crook and cranny, so don’t miss getting behind her ears.”

 

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