Hit with a sudden wave of jealousy, I snagged my phone from the pocket of my robe.
Evie:
Are you and Vincent enjoying the gardens?
Jasper:
I didn’t mean to disturb you, but you seemed worried about being so far away from him.
I figured I’d bring him closer. But we can leave. This day is about you, mama.
My heart melted a little. I was enjoying myself, but knowing Vincent was close by chiseled away at my stress even more.
Evie:
Is he hungry? I was just about to pump.
Jasper:
He’s my son. He’s always hungry
Evie:
Meet me in the spa lobby. I’ll feed him before my reiki session.
I stood, tightening the belt on my robe. “I’m going to check on Vincent and nurse him.”
Frankie tossed her head back and barked a laugh. “Sure. Check on Vincent.” She turned to a delighted Ruby. “I think that’s code for ‘ogle the hot dad some more.’”
I pinned her with a look, though heat crept up my neck. “I’m not ogling.”
“Tell that to your face,” Ruby chirped. “It’s bright red.”
Frankie raised her mimosa. “I hate men, but if I had to hate one a bit less, it would be Jasper. He is a walking thirst trap with those sunglasses and the baby carrier.”
I left the lounge, annoyed with my friends but more so with myself and my traitorous stomach, which was flipping at the thought of seeing my child’s father.
Jasper and Vincent were settled on a plush loveseat when I stepped into in the small lounge area where Shea had led us to earlier. Jasper had his long legs stretched out, and he was holding Vincent so he hovered over him and making silly faces.
My breath hitched at the sight, and my heart thudded strangely when I realized that rather than fussy or distressed, Vincent was completely delighted.
As if he could sense my attention, Jasper shifted and zeroed in on me quickly. Then that damn smile—the slow, lazy one that made him look like he was holding on to a fun secret—spread across his face.
Shaking off the thought, I strode over and took Vincent and quickly situated myself on the chair beside Jasper’s.
The infuriatingly gorgeous man leaned over and produced the diaper bag, then pulled out my trusty nursing cover.
I spied the inside of the bag, confused. I’d never seen it look like that.
“Did you clean and organize that?” I asked, marveling. It looked like the kind I’d see on Instagram and glower at when I scrolled late at night. The ones posted by moms who had the most perfectly organized homes, cars, and diaper bags.
He smirked. “Yes. Preparedness is kind of my thing. On the rigs, every tool must be in the right place. There’s no time to hesitate during an emergency. And not having a binkie within reach definitely qualifies as an emergency.”
Once Vincent was latched, my body did its thing and relaxed. “Thank you.”
He put his hands behind his head and reclined. “No problem. Just admit you missed us.”
I averted my eyes and gently stroked Vincent’s head. “I missed my sweet baby.”
