“Okay, I say, let’s get the changing station ready. Diapers, wipes, clean clothes. Then we can set up a bottle station for the middle-of-the-night feedings.”
My heart sinks. “Feedings? More than once? How often do babies eat?”
“A lot. And they poop a lot,” she says with a wink.
“You don’t have to enjoy my misery so much.” I push her arm as I open up the diaper box as quietly as possible.
She pushes me back—harder. “It’s much deserved, assface.”
“Why didn’t I just call Eva? She’d be a whole lot nicer to me.”
“Because you apparently have a heart, though it might be the size of a pea. She’s tired. I just talked to her this morning. Addie had them up most of the night.”
After we set up everything she thinks we’ll need for the night, the dinner she ordered arrives. We sit on opposite ends of the couch, eating quietly as we watch Eli sleep.
I can’t believe I’m already shortening her name, but I did like the sound of it when Jessie said it.
I’m lost in thought through most of dinner, trying to force down the contents of the food, though my body still feels like it’s stuck in fight-or-flight mode.
Like she knew I just finished dinner, Eli begins to cry. I throw my plate in the sink and make another bottle—instructed by Jessie, of course.
When I walk back into the room, Jessie has her changed into a small floral sleeper-looking thing. It’s cute with its footies. She has Eli cradled under her chin and is slowly bouncing her around the room.
My heart beats erratically in my chest at the sight of the woman I swore I could never have, soothing a baby I never knew existed until tonight.
She must sense my presence even though I haven’t made a noise, but she looks up and locks eyes with me. We don’t say anything, and I don’t move. I swallow down the feelings I’ve kept secret for years.
“I can take her,” I say through the thickness in my throat.
“No, I’ll feed her. Why don’t you move this pack and play in your bedroom while I do? She’ll need to sleep in the same room as you.”
I nod my head and do as I was told. I didn’t realize she needed to be in my room. I’m never gonna get any sleep tonight.
I walk back into the family room, where Jessie is now sitting on the couch, feeding Eli.
“You should get ready for bed now while she’s content,” she says to me without even looking up.
I roll my head around my shoulders, hoping that’ll relieve some of the mounting tension. I don’t even know how to process all of this. I went from spending the day with the possibility of scoring a case that would make me the most-sought-after corporate attorney in the city if I won to changing diapers and making bottles for a baby I hadn’t known about. All with a woman who hates me—and who, I’m pretty sure, thinks I hate her.
If she only knew …
Chapter Five
Jessie
Eli is precious. She sucks ravenously on her bottle nipple, taking down her formula like a champ. She has one tiny little hand wrapped around my thumb while her eyes remain on me.
As soon as she’s done, I pull the bottle from her and rest her on my shoulder to burp. I forgot to grab one of the many burp cloths I purchased, but that’s okay. A little spit-up never hurt anyone. Though Walker’s reaction to it would have made you think so.
He’s been a total spaz since I got here. I like to give him a hard time, but I don’t think anyone would be calm in a situation like this.
As Eli lets out a loud burp, then snuggles into the crook of my neck, I wonder how in the world her mother could have given her up.
Just goes to show Walker’s type. He’s never known how to pick a good one. I’ve seen the women he’s had on his arm. Tall, leggy, blonde. Makeup so thick that you wonder what their face lookslike when it's off. Definitely after his money and power. His looks don’t hurt.
He walks back into the room, wearing gray sweatpants and a tight black shirt, and my entire body is engulfed in flames. The shirt does nothing to hide his biceps or the sheer size of his chest. Eighteen-year-old me is freaking out right now. Luckily, twenty-seven-year-old me is here to put a stop to it.
He stands in front of me, running a hand through his tousled hair. Shit, where did twenty-seven-year-old me go? She’s nowhere to be found right now. I could really use her ability to cut through this fog of attraction with her snarky comments.
