“Well, what color is her room going to be?”
His brow furrows. “Her room? She’s a baby. Last night she just slept in my bed with me…” I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Well, for the short amount of time that shedidsleep. But I didn’t even think about a room for her. I mean, I have a guest room, and one I can clean out and make baby-friendly,but—”
Sensing the overwhelm and irritation building in his voice, I interject. “Let’s go with the dark brown wood. It’s neutral enough that you can decide on a theme later and it will hide the wear and tear that comes with having kids.”
Henley’s shoulders fall as he nods. “Okay.”
“You head to checkout. I’ll grab someone to load the crib.” I walk away to find a store employee and make a mental note to call Lennon, my best friend back home, as soon as possible to fill her in on my life change. Then I head to the aisle with the teething gel because the moment we’ll need it will be the time we don’t have it.
We.
As in, Henley and I are a team now when it comes to taking care of this baby girl.
Shaking off that thought, I focus on the task at hand.
You’re just helping this man, Elodie. He’s paying you, so it’s a job, just like you wanted. It’s just not the one that you’d thought you’d land. But the money will help you pay down your debt just like you wanted and buy you time to come up with a plan.
That’s the thing about plans, though—they rarely go the way we want them to. And I’ve got firsthand experience with that.
***
“There you go. Keep your hand over her forehead so the water doesn’t get in her eyes. The soap is supposed to be tear-free, but you still want to be kind to her about that.”
Henley is focusing so hard on bathing his daughter that he looks like he might pass out from the stress, and I’ve been fighting back my grin the entire time.
“You’re doing great.” Reaching for his forearm, I give it a squeeze, but boy, was that a mistake.
His skin is warm, dark from working in the sun, and covered in a dusting of dark hair. But that’s not the part that startles me—it’s the way he tenses under my touch, the way the veins pop out under his skin that makes my breath hitch as I hear him do the same.
God, why do forearms have to be so sexy?
Clearing his throat, he turns away from me as I release him. “Thanks. It’s not as terrifying as I thought it would be.”
“That’s the beauty of using this little tub over the kitchen sink. You don’t break your back bending over the bathtub.”
“Yeah, thanks for that tip.” He cleans the little rolls under Remy’s chin for the third time, being thorough since I warned him it’s a common place for babies’ skin to get irritated. At least he’s listening. “Anything else?”
“Nope. I think she’s good. You can take her out now.”
He reaches for the towel I picked out at the store earlier and holds it open. “Uh… Could you hand her to me?”
“Sure.” I carefully pick up the slippery little girl from her tub and place her in Henley’s waiting arms.
He wraps the towel around her and holds her to his chest, far more comfortably than he did earlier. I cautiously corrected him on his baby-holding technique once we got home, and now he looks much more at ease holding his daughter. “I hate to ask you, but can you help me dress her, please? It took me almost thirty minutes to figure out the outfit she had on earlier.”
A chuckle leaves my lips, but I nod and follow him down the hall to his room. For now, he’s going to continue to use his room as his “Remy Headquarters”, as he called it.
“Those outfits with a million snaps should be banned, if you ask me.”
He places Remy on his bed, drying her off a bit more as I hand him a diaper. “Is there a petition? Because I’ll definitely add my name.”
I rifle through the clean clothes I took out of the dryer earlier, locating a pajama outfit that has a zipper. “If I find one, you’ll be the first person I tell.” Nodding, he puts a fresh diaper under Remy’s butt and then quickly fastens it in place.
“Hey, you did that pretty fast!”
“Well, she shit right on my chest earlier today, so I learned that speed is a necessary skill when it comes to diaper changing. Who knew projectile shit was a thing?”
My laugh bursts out before I can stop it, clutching my stomach. “Oh my God!”
