by Taryn Quinn
“Samantha,” I murmured, and she blinked at me, owlish as ever.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Gina cleared her throat. “She needs a lot of stuff, Jared. Diapers especially, but all the other things babies need too. I made a list. If you want, you can go to Walmart and get the essentials.”
“Walmart? You know I prefer to shop local.”
“Fine. You want to shop local, you’ll be waiting for daylight.” Gina put the baby’s birth certificate back in the envelope and handed it to me.
I immediately tucked it in my pocket. I’d put it with the other important papers in my fireproof box in the hall closet later. “Is that such a bad idea?”
“God forbid she needs her diaper changed beforehand. It’s probably long overdue already.”
“You don’t know?” At her narrowed-eyed look, I held up a hand apologetically. “Okay. You can go to Walmart then if you don’t mind. But it’s late.” I moved to the windows with Sadie dogging my every step. Outside, a winter wonderland filled my vision. “No. I’ll go. You stay here with the baby.”
“She has a name.”
“I know that,” I snapped.
“Also, newsflash, I’ve lived here all my life, and I know how to drive in the snow. My car has snow tires too.”
Ignoring her, I went to the hook beside the door and grabbed my keyring. “Take my vehicle.”
“The sheriff’s car? I’ll pass. Unless you’ll let me turn on the lights and siren. That might be cool.”
“Not the sheriff’s car.” I couldn’t hide my derision. “That’s an official vehicle.”
“Oooh, excuse me.” Gina slapped a hand to her chest, and Sadie took that as a signal to play and leaped on her, nearly knocking her over.
“Sadie, knock it off. Not in the house,” I said in the stern, authoritative voice her trainer had advised me to use.
Not that the training had helped much.
As usual, Sadie ignored me and kept jumping on Gina, her swishing tail knocking off the stack of newspapers I hadn’t dealt with yet on the end table.
The baby started to cry. I tilted back my head, praying for strength.
“The Jeep,” I said through clenched teeth, gripping the keys in my fist. “You can take the Jeep.”
“Fine. Easier not to argue with your chauvinistic ass.”
“It’s being chauvinistic to be concerned you’ll be driving in the snow late at night?”
“It is when you assume by way of prick you can do it better.” She sidestepped Sadie and gave me a healthy nudge in the belly before she snagged my keys and sashayed past me. “Trust me, pussy wins in all things.”
I really didn’t need her saying that particular word right now. God knows I loved it fervently, but that rarely practiced love had led to my predicament.
I shifted my attention to the baby. She might as well have been a diaper ticking time bomb. “Maybe we can wait until first thing in the morning?”
“Oh, I’m staying the night, am I, slugger? If so, you better make up that guest room. I’m not couching it after my shift.” Gina rubbed her lower back.
“You can sleep in my bed.”
The sharp look she shot me would’ve been amusing if her assumption didn’t lead me to picture things I should not.
Namely, her asleep beside me, probably wearing some scanty little pair of male-torment device panties and a tiny T-shirt that barely constrained…things.
“No,” we said at the same time.
“I didn’t mean with me in it,” I added. “I meant I’ll take the guest room bed.”
“We’ll see how tired I am when I get back from the store. I have a lot to get.”
“I wonder if Erica is still up? Maybe she could go with—”
Gina’s stare shut me up quick.
“I am not asking my very pregnant sister to accompany me to Walmart late at night because your granny panties are too tight. We could both go and bring Samantha if you had a car seat, but you do not since your loins bore fruit you were not aware of.”
I winced. “Stop. Please stop.”
Before she could torture me any more, I grabbed my wallet off the coffee table and pulled out my credit card. “Bring back McDonald’s if you can find one open.”
“What, and not shop local?” She pretended to gasp as she took my card.
“Why do I like you again?” I asked as she moved past me to get her jacket.
“Because I’m the light of your life.”
When the door shut behind her—much to Sadie’s eternal woe—I gave in and smiled.
She was right.
Five
I shopped like a madwoman.
Like many of my gender, stress sent me into a spending frenzy. That I had Jared’s credit card was just a bonus.
It was petty to buy things he probably didn’t need, but I couldn’t vent my frustration toward him in another manner. At least not now. He was in a vulnerable state, and I wasn’t heartless enough make this any harder for him.
So, I filled my cart.
My list was comprehensive, and yet I was sure I was forgetting things. I wasn’t an expert on babies, although I’d definitely spent more time with them than Jared had. When I could get up the nerve to talk to Erica about this, I’d get the lowdown from her on infants. My sister never skimped on research. My mom would weigh in too. Probably enough to talk my ear off. But I couldn’t tell them until he’d decided what he was going to do about telling everyone.
I suspected burying his head in the snow was his most likely plan.
In no time, the cart was filled. I’d gotten a huge multipack of diapers. A collapsible playpen. A carseat. I’d almost bought two, so I’d have one too, but I wasn’t ready to go there. I stacked up onesies and little pairs of pants and tiny socks with ruffles and bows that made my heart ache. Shirts and a few dresses fell into my cart without my help. And the minuscule shoes! I’d gotten three pairs—one dressy, one casual, and sneakers. Then of course I had to get a winter outfit of a warm jacket and insulated pants and adorable boots.
She seemed small for her age, so I’d done a lot of guessing. Hopefully, I was on the right path.
My next step was to buy a padded lounger for sleeping when she was somewhere other than her bed. I figured he might want his buddy August to build her a custom crib when the dust settled, so I picked up a folding portable bedside crib to use in the meantime. As awesome as the boat was for the baby—not—I thought she should have something more comfortable. I also grabbed the sweetest baby swing with a mobile of colorful dancing shapes and fun music.
The more I shopped, the more I was certain I was forgetting essential items, so a bit of panic buying set in. Add in my bleariness from not sleeping yet, and the cart filled up rapidly with an assortment of cute toys and stuffed animals and snuggly blankets.
My last stop was the grocery section. Since I’d seen the contents of Jared’s refrigerator, I stocked up on a few essentials, including more fully cooked bacon, a carton of fresh eggs, bread, pancake mix, and sliced cheese. Hey, if I was spending the night, at least we’d have a delicious breakfast.
Next up was baby formula and puréed fruit in jars and juice. I also picked up some cookies and milk, my go-to snack when I couldn’t sleep.
Or when I was sleeping in the same house with my babymaking best friend.
Then I wandered into the Christmas area, a place I had no business being in—especially when I was riding an emotional razor’s edge. Tinsel and an unstable mindset were a sure recipe for trouble.
My exhausted gaze roamed the shimmery, shiny shelves. Glittery trees and boxes of glass ornaments and garland stretched as far as the eye could see.
I glanced at my cart. Not much room left. Time to get creative.
In my defense, some of the stuff I bought I intended to take home. Yes, I put those items on Jared’s credit card as well. I would just take them as my small payment for this unexpected shopping trip.
I might have had to go ba
ck up and get another cart, but that was just so all my purchases weren’t piled on each other.
Right. It was a good excuse anyway.
As I drove back to Jared’s with the very long receipt tucked in my pocket, I turned on Christmas carols to keep myself awake. No, I did not love them, especially before Thanksgiving. But seeing that holiday wonderland had given me just a bit more Christmas spirit. Especially for the baby. I didn’t want her first holiday with her father to be lackluster. Not that he wouldn’t do his best—that was basically in the Brooks DNA—but he was overwhelmed, and the details might slip by him.
I was good with details. I was also slightly gleeful imagining his expression when he looked in the trunk and saw all that I’d purchased.
It didn’t take long for me to get what I’d wished for.
“What the hell is all this?”
Blinking innocently, I glanced up at Jared. He hadn’t put on his jacket to come outside and help me unload and the snowflakes were collecting on his thick dark hair and melting all over his broad shoulders in his button-down shirt. He still hadn’t changed from his work clothes. Since I knew his love of his ripped to hell jeans and T-shirts when he was home, I figured he’d been pacing and watching the baby the whole time I was shopping.
Guilt tickled at the back of my brain and was ruthlessly dispatched. Sure, I’d enjoyed shopping—maybe too much—but the baby had needed all of these things.
Almost all of them.
“You needed things for your child. I shopped.”
He picked up a ginormous round of multi-colored garland. “What does she need this for?”
“It’s her first Christmas, you dolt. Don’t you want her to have fond memories?”
His jaw locked as he looked down at the ground. “She will barely be three months old for Christmas,” he muttered.
I rubbed his arm and tried not to notice all his freaking muscles. Did he bench press sedans in his free time or what?
“She’ll still know. But don’t worry. When I’m done with your place, you can be certain she’ll be in a festive wonderland for her first holiday season with daddy.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why is your mood so much better?”
Cheerfully, I withdrew my miles-long receipt and pressed it into his hand. “That may have something to do with it. I bought a couple of things to decorate my apartment too. Thanks.”
Eyebrow raised, he unfurled the receipt and checked the total with a wince before shoving it in his pocket. “What exactly is all this? Will I even know what to do with it?”
“Yes. Most is self-explanatory. I’ll help where I can. This was a little indulgent, but I figured you wouldn’t mind too much.” Because it was in the top bag, I withdrew the little plaid-skirted outfit and shirt that said Auntie Claus on the front. Immediately, his expression softened. “Because I am like her aunt. Right? So, she should have cute duds proclaiming it.”
“Her aunt?” he asked softly, his words nearly sucked away by the cold wind.
I swallowed over the dryness in my throat. “Yeah, I mean, that’s sort of what I am. I guess.”
His mouth tightened and I would’ve sworn he was going to speak, but then he jerked a thumb at the full trunk. “Why don’t you go in, and I’ll take care of this stuff?”
“You’re not allowed to toss it the minute I’m out of sight.”
“I won’t.” He didn’t so much as smile. “Go on in. The baby shouldn’t be alone.”
Nodding, I grabbed a couple of bags despite his grumbling and headed up the steps to the wraparound porch. I looked back to find him bent over the trunk as he drew out items, his shoulders seeming much more weighed down than usual.
I should probably pay him back for some of this stuff. It wasn’t his fault he made me think inappropriate thoughts about him sometimes. He didn’t actively work at being hot.
Then I remembered that he’d slept with some woman last winter and everything inside me knotted up. Unfair or not, I was hurt. That I didn’t have any right to be didn’t kill my feelings. But I could try to be the bigger person.
“Go on, Bee,” he called over the gusty breeze. “It’s cold out here, and your coat is thin.”
Even with the baby inside, he still thought of me. So, maybe it was his fault he was hot—because a big part of his attractiveness was the sweet streak he didn’t reveal to many people. Mostly just his family and I.
“Going.”
I elbowed my way inside and carefully lowered the bags to the floor in the front hall. The place was suspiciously silent. Undoing my coat, I hurried into the living room to find Sadie stretched out on the floor beside the boat, her silky golden head tipped over the side as if she was guarding her as she slept. And boy, the baby was out like a proverbial light, the smallest smile on those perfect rosebud lips of hers.
My heart turned over so hard that I pressed my hand against my chest. All kinds of motherly impulses flooded me. I tried not to pay attention to them most of the time. Hell, most of the time, I didn’t even have them. In a town full of babies like Crescent Cove, it could be hard to be childless, but sometimes, it was also a relief. I could play with and cuddle kids as often as I wanted without having to be a caretaker while I was still young and free.
At least that was what I told myself when the familiar sadness crept in during those nights I couldn’t sleep.
My mistake was letting that impulse drive me closer to the boat. Sadie roused from the most complete sleep ever and bounded to her feet to run over to me, which somehow woke the baby. She immediately started to howl.
Sadie glanced between us as if she didn’t know whom to go to. So, I made it easy on her and picked up the baby, wrinkling my nose at the obvious source of her distress.
I didn’t want to think about how long she might’ve slept in her own mess. But after tonight, that wouldn’t be happening again.
Well, as much as I could help with that anyway.
Jared picked that moment to come inside, bringing in a gust of snowy wind and setting off the dog. Sadie let out a rapid series of barks as she decided tonight was a great time to leap on her owner and knock him to the floor with his three-million bags.
“I guess I overshopped,” I said semi-apologetically, toting the baby over to where her father was sprawled on the floor with packages spilling in every direction and a sixty-pound dog standing on his chest while she frantically licked his face.
The baby’s cries quieted, and she let out a sound crossed between a hiccup and a giggle as she watched Jared try to hold off Sadie’s abundant loving.
“Did you just laugh at your daddy? He’s getting tongue-kissed by yet another adoring girl.” Without thinking, I nuzzled my face into her soft curls, and she made that same adorable sound again. “You are, aren’t you? Though stinky poo. We’ll get you washed up and a fresh diaper too.”
I shifted her in my arms as I walked over to shut the door. Turning back, I caught Jared watching me far too intently. “What?” I asked defensively as a flush worked up my neck.
In a minute, I’d be in competition for tomato status, I was sure.
“Nothing.” Jared struggled to sit up and finally gave up and laughed as Sadie settled half on his lap.
“Not nothing. What was that look for?”
It had been far too intense. He’d been so focused on me, in a way I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen before. As if he was…thinking thoughts.
Thoughts similar to the ones I lived with. Pervasive like a fungus.
But these hadn’t emerged on a different night. They’d sneaked into his gaze when I was cuddling the baby he’d been presented with and didn’t have a clue how to take care of.
Gratitude could get confused with a heck of a lot of other feelings. And I wasn’t stupid enough to trust anything right now, especially sudden late night emotions.
Including my own—even if they weren’t that sudden.
“You’re just really good with her. Already. You know what to do. How to be with her.”
/>
“I’m just doing what feels natural. But yeah, she needs a bath and a change. Hold on, little one.” I adjusted my hold on her and bent low to dig through the collection of bags before arching a brow. “Did you really bring everything in with one trip?”
“Not quite. The swing and portable crib are left out there.” He mimed swiping sweat off his brow. “Pro shopper.”
“You know it. I picked up clothes. Toys. Infamil. Little jars of pureed bananas and peas and carrots and beets. Not that anyone likes beets, right, baby girl?”
She shoved her fist in her mouth and stared at me.
“Trust me, they’re gross. But maybe you’ll like them, since you’re a Brooks and they’re weird.” I grinned at Jared and found him watching us pensively again.
“She should be yours,” he said huskily.
I didn’t know what to make of that—not at all—so I plucked the diapers out of a bag and jerked to my feet.
“Since you’re a little occupied, I can take care of the baby’s bath and diaper change.” I jerked my chin toward where Sadie had made herself at home on his lap while she nosed through the bags of toys around her—including a large squeaking Christmas pig for her, which she had not found yet.
“No, no, I can help.” Jared tried to scramble to his feet, only managing it as Sadie pounced on her pig and ran off with it in her mouth, making a flurry of manic squeaks. “You got some food too? I saw bacon somewhere.”
“Yeah, should probably get that in the fridge, but it’s not urgent if you really want to help. Fu—fudge,” I amended, glancing at the baby. She was still snacking on her thumb. “I forgot baby shampoo.”
“I have regular.”
“Good to know you don’t use a bar of soap like some unenlightened dudes. I’ll just use a small amount until we get something gentler. Same with body wash. Hopefully, this poor child won’t have to smell like Axe or something.”
In truth, Jared smelled like a mysterious forest. Smoky and rich and earthy in the very best way. But I wasn’t about to inflate his ego. All his parts were already big enough.