“I was unpacking.” He adjusted Hazel against his bare chest, completely unbothered. “Chill. I’ll sleep once we’re settled.”
“You need rest.”
“I’m fine.” He swayed slightly, rubbing circles over Hazel’s back. Her cries dropped to whimpers.
My jaw clenched. “I had it handled.”
“Sure.”
“I did.”
He just kept swaying, calming Hazel while I stood there feeling like I’d been caught doing something wrong.
Which was ridiculous. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Give her back.”
“She’s settling.”
“Griffin—”
“Vi.” He glanced up, and his expression was maddeningly patient. “Go to bed. I’ve got her.”
“That’s not your job.”
“Pretty sure it is.”
“I’m her nanny.”
“And I’m her father.” He turned toward the door. “Get some sleep.”
“No.” I stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Hand her over.”
He stopped, brow furrowing. “Vi?—”
“You said you wanted time with her before the race weekend started. But if you let her interfere with your prep, it’s never happening again.”
His jaw tightened. “It’s not interfering.”
“You’re supposed to be sleeping and adjusting to the time change. Tomorrow you need to start acclimatizing. You can’t do any of that if you’re struggling with jet lag because you chose to stay awake with a crying baby.”
“I can handle one night.”
“Maybe. But you won’t handle the race if you’re exhausted.” I held out my arms. “Give her to me.”
“She’s almost asleep.”
The sooner he remembered I was the nanny, the better for both of us.
“Then it’ll be easy for me to take over.” My brows rose and I took a step closer. “You dragged me halfway around the world so you could have this. Don’t waste it because you’re too stubborn to let me do my job.”
He stared at me for a long moment, Hazel quiet against his chest. Then his shoulders dropped and he carefully transferred her into my arms.
“Fine,” he muttered.
“Thank you.” I adjusted Hazel, grabbing her bag. “Now go to bed.”
He hesitated at the door, looking like he wanted to argue.
