Chapter Forty-Six
Sunshine trickled in through the edges of his closed curtains. A sucking sound disoriented him. Rolling to his other side, his heart clenched at the sight. Reed lay propped between a pillow on either side drinking a bottle while Ellie cradled Birdie as she drank from her bottle.
“I’m sorry if they woke you. They seem to be on the same schedule.”
“You’re remarkable, Momma.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Look at me. My hair is doing a Don King impersonation, and I have more rings on my face than on my fingers. Hell, I havenorings on my fingers. And I’m a big mess, because I have nothing to cry about, but there you are healing from what my family did to you. I didn’t even ask how you’re feeling,” she continued to ramble on.
Wes’s lips turned up. All he could think about was how cute she was. He supported his head on his bent arm. “I’m feeling okay. What can I do to help you?”
“Tuck said you can’t lift.” Her expression filled with worry.
“I can hold.” He sat up and, with his back against the headboard, he pulled a pillow across his lap. “Let me hold Birdie.”
Eleanor carefully placed her in Wes’s arms. The baby girl turned her head and smiled at him. He lifted her tiny hand to his lips and kissed her palm. His stubbled chin must have tickled her because she giggled.
“She likes you,” Eleanor said. “She’s got good taste.”
Reed crawled into Eleanor’s arms. “He’s got good taste too,” Wes said.
Eleanor lifted Reed up and put him on his feet. “Come with me; we are going to get cleaned up and put on one of your new handsome outfits. Wes, are you okay with Birdie?”
He laughed. “She’s got a full belly and is fast asleep. I think I got this.” He listened to Eleanor’s stream of consciousness as she bathed her little boy. His heart filled with joy. He kept his promise to himself: he found her babies. His other promise came with a dire ending: Belinda was dead.
His sad thoughts were disrupted by laughter. He heard water splashing. “I want to have some of that fun.”
Eleanor called out to him, “Hmm, after Birdie has her turn, you’re next after that.”
“I like that,” his tone changed to a deeper, sexy sound.
Eleanor walked out of the bathroom, bubbles in her hair and a naked little boy squirming to get out of a towel. The second she put him down to grab a diaper and clothing, the toddler took off and ran around the bed. He stopped short when his eyes made contact with Wes’s. “Boo boo.” He pointed at Wes’s head. “I kiss.”
Wes’s eyes fogged as Reed pulled himself onto the bed, slowly moved to Wes’s other side and placed two tiny lips against the bandage. “Thank you, pal,” he choked on the words.
Eleanor caught and managed to get clothing on her son. “I’ve got to get better at this!”
“You’re doing fine.” Wes’s face filled with mirth.
Eleanor placed Birdie in her crib. “She’s asleep, and I’ve got Reed. Um, can you take a shower?”
“I have to call a leash.” Wes sighed and reached onto the night table. Mike had returned Wes’s phone earlier. “Good morning. I’d like to take a shower… Yes, only Birdie is asleep.” Ending the call, he looked at Ellie. “Pete’s on his way up. He has to change the bandage.”
The door opened, and Pete walked in, followed by Mike, Kip and Troy. Reed saw Troy and barreled toward him. “Uncle Troy,” he said, his speech clear.
Troy scooped him up. Wes noticed his friend’s balance was improving every time he saw him. Mike leaned over Birdie in the crib and cooed at her, “Precious girl.” He looked over at Wes.
Mike didn’t have to say a word. His eyes said it all. The case was about to blow.
Pete placed his bag on the chair and pulled out a pair of bandage sheers and a pair of gloves. “How’s the headache?”
“Less than yesterday,” Wes grumbled. “I’ve been managing with only Tylenol. But I have one complaint: it itches.”
Pete popped on the gloves and cut the bandage free. “You’re healing well. Go take your shower. Just don’t rub it.”
Wes didn’t need to hear him twice. He got up, grabbed sweats and went into the bathroom.
* * *
