I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Elite performance coach, taken down by flat-pack furniture.”
“Shut it,” Liam grumbled, already disassembling his mistake. “At least I’m past step three.”
“I’m working on quality, not speed.”
Violet moved between us, somehow managing to direct our efforts while simultaneously unpacking more supplies and checking on Hazel. I watched her from the corner of my eye as I wrestled with the bassinet. She moved with purpose, her actions precise and economical. There was no wasted energy, no hesitation. Just calm competence.
It was the same quality I’d glimpsed last night, during those quiet hours with Hazel. A steadiness that made me feel both reassured and inadequate.
Hazel’s soft fussing escalated suddenly into full-blown wails. Violet immediately set down the package she’d been opening and moved toward the car seat.
“I’ve got her,” I said. I set aside the half-assembled bassinet.
Carefully, I lifted Hazel from the car seat. She was so small, her little body trembling with the force of her cries.
“Hey there,” I murmured, awkwardly positioning her against my shoulder. “What’s all this about, hmm?”
“Support her head.”
“I am.” I adjusted my grip slightly, one hand cradling Hazel’s head, the other supporting her body. “Like this, right?”
She nodded, a flicker of approval crossing her features. “She’s dry.” Violet stepped closer, her fingers brushing against Hazel’s nappy to confirm. “Probably just wants attention.”
I bounced gently, trying to mimic the soothing motion I’d seen Violet use. Hazel’s cries softened.
“There we go,” I said, relief flooding through me. “Not so bad, right?”
Liam watched us with undisguised amusement. “Look at you, all paternal.”
I shot him a warning glance but couldn’t muster any real irritation. There was something satisfying about calming Hazel, about feeling her tiny body relax against mine.
“Try walking with her,” Violet said, returning to her unpacking.
I paced the room slowly, maintaining the gentle bouncing motion. She quieted to a murmur.
“Success,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.
Violet glanced up, a small smile playing at her lips. “You’re getting better at that.”
The simple acknowledgment shouldn’t have mattered. But coming from her, somehow it did.
CHAPTER SIX
VIOLET
“Is that my last bottle of Barolo?”
I jumped, nearly dropping the wine glass I’d been filling. Griffin leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. Messy hair, low-slung jogging bottoms, bare feet. I wished he’d put a shirt on.
I set the bottle down slowly. “I didn’t realize it was special.”
“It’s not.” He pushed off the doorframe, padding barefoot across the tile. “Just surprised to see you drinking alone in the dark.”
I’d only turned on the under-cabinet lights, leaving the kitchen in a soft glow that barely reached the corners.
“Hazel’s finally asleep.” I lifted my glass in a mock toast. “Seemed like cause for celebration.”
Griffin nodded, reaching for a glass from the cabinet. “Mind if I join you?”
