“Eat up, bud. Daddy needs to shower, and you need a bath.”
“Go on and shower. I got this little guy,” I tell Baker. The sooner he gets rid of the gray sweats, the better.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Go do your thing. Take a long, hot shower,” I say, clearing my throat, because I choked out the last part. I do not need to be thinking about that man all wet and soapy in the shower. Nope. Not going there.
“Thanks, Sloane. Cam, be good for Sloane,” he tells his son. “There are towels in the bathroom closet, and it’s his bathroom, so there are toys all over, and all his bath stuff,” Baker rambles.
“I’ll figure it out,” I assure him. He nods and turns, walking out of the room.
“You'd better get your belly full so we can go to the park,” I tell Camden.
“Swide!”
“That’s right. We’ll go down the slide, but this belly needs to be full.” I gently poke his belly, and he giggles.
So much better than waiting tables.
I place Camden in his high chair and start cleaning up the kitchen while he eats. We’re done at the same time, and I grin down at him. “Let’s go wash the sticky off you, kiddo.” I unstrap him from the chair and carry him upstairs to his room.
When Baker was giving me a tour on Saturday night, he told me that he has two rooms. His primary bedroom is downstairs, but he’s also claimed one of the guest rooms at the end of the hall, just to be closer to Camden, especially on nights when he’s sick. Watching that man love and care for his son is truly a sight to behold, but getting this behind-the-scenes view is even better. I can’t fathom how Natasha is okay with missing this.
I bounce Camden on my hip with each step we take up the stairs. He giggles and holds on to my shirt. Once we reach the landing, I take us the short distance to what Baker refers to as Camden’s bathroom, and my quick glimpse yesterday didn’t show me all the toys, bubbles, and childproofing in this room.
“Your daddy loves you so much,” I tell Camden. “Now, let’s get you a bath.” I start the water to let it warm before stripping him out of his clothes. I leave the diaper on him until we’re ready to get into the tub. I’ve babysat enough kids in my day to understand that a toddler who isn't potty-trained and isn't wearing a diaper is never a good idea.
Testing the water, I wrangle Camden, dispose of his diaper, and lift him into the tub. He instantly splashes and squeals with delight. He doesn’t complain when I wash his hair, just zooms his little toy boat around the tub and lets me do my thing. In no time, I’m draining the water and wrapping a towel around his little body. His little lip quivers from the chill of the air conditioning.
“I’m sorry, bud. Let’s get you dressed to warm you up.” He wiggles in the towel when I lift him into my arms. I toss him over my shoulder, knowing damn well I could be getting pissed on right now, but that’s why I brought extra clothes.
In his room, I set him on his feet and see that Baker’s laid out a diaper and clothes for him. I make quick work of getting him dried off and dressed, including a fresh diaper, then run the towel over his hair.
“You have your daddy’s dark hair, don’t ya?” I ask him.
“Daddy.” He nods. He reaches out and touches my hair.
My hair is what most call dirty blonde. It’s basically a mix of blonde and brown. Camden’s hair is dark like his daddy's, and I have no doubt this little boy is going to be a heartbreaker with the ladies when he’s older.
Stretching out my arm, I snag the comb from the dresser and comb his hair. “You’re so handsome,” I tell him. I don’t know if he understands, but he launches himself at me, wrapping his little arms around my neck and melting my heart into a puddle right here on the carpet of his bedroom floor.
“Thank you for the hug,” I tell him, enfolding my arms around him. He’s not in a hurry to let go, so I hold on to him until he is, letting him soak up all the love and affection he needs.
“Daddy!” He pulls away and stumbles a little as his little legs carry him to the door. Looking up, I see Baker standing in the doorway, his legs crossed at his ankles and his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. His hair is still wet from his shower, but he’s fully clothed, and those damn gray sweats are nowhere in sight.
Baker stands to his full height and puts his hands out to catch his son. “You smell better,” he teases him.
“Swoan, swide.”
Baker smiles at his son before turning those pearly whites my way. “Yeah, Sloane is going to slide with us.”
Camden leans over, practically jumping out of Baker’s arms and into mine, and wraps his arms around my neck. “Goodness,” I say, feeling my heart squeeze inside my chest. “Such good hugs. Come on. Let’s get your shoes on and pack a snack and a drink to take with us.”
I move to step past Baker, but his hand on my arm stops me. Tingles slide up my arm from his touch, and I draw in a breath. Baker’s hold tightens. Does he feel it, too? When my eyes find his, I can’t read his expression as his gaze bores into mine. Clearing his throat, he says, “Thank you, Sloane. I can’t tell you how much your help means to me.”
“You’re welcome.” I smile, ignoring the way his touch burns my arm. “We’re helping each other.” With that step forward, it forces his hand to fall from my arm, and I carry Camden downstairs. I try to think back to a time that I’ve even been alone with any of the guys, and Landry and Knox are the only two I can think of. Maybe that’s why I’m having this weird reaction to Baker. Regardless of the why, it’s not happening. I’m not here to get it on with Daddy Sin. I’m here to look after this sweet little boy, and I plan to do a damn good job of it, too.
Downstairs, I place Camden on his feet, and he runs to the mudroom and plops down, wiggling his toes, waiting for his shoes. “Which ones are we wearing today?” I ask him.
