“Hey, Ash. You okay? Need a diaper change?”Please be dry, please, please ... please.
She held out her arms, so Chris picked her up. Her cries settled, and she nuzzled her head right under his neck. Holding her made him want a family. Was this what his friends were trying to get him to have? A life with a good woman and the kids who came from that relationship?
“You want a bottle?” Ash’s bottom didn’t feel soggy, thank goodness.
She whimpered and made a grabbing motion as if wondering where the milk was. He probably should’ve prepared one before coming downstairs, but he hadn’t wanted her to cry long. Her cries went straight to his heart and ripped it to shreds.
“Let’s go get a bottle,” he murmured.
Instead of Ash making a happy noise, the longest, wettest sound of wind ripped the air and stopped him in his tracks. That wasn’t just a normal sound of passing gas. Not when the arm that was tucked under her diaper had warmed.
“Oh no.” He looked down at the cherub. “I thought we were friends? Why would you do this?”
Her bottom lip trembled, and her dark eyes filled with water like something out of aLooney Tunesepisode. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, baby. I’ll change you.”
God, help me. Please don’t let it be a blowout.
He still remembered the time that happened on their road trip.
Chris laid the baby on the changing table and wished for a bandana to cover his nose and mouth. He grabbed a fresh diaper to have at the ready, then unsnapped the onesie. As he peeled the flaps back, the full force of the smell smacked him in the face.
“Whew, Ash, you let that rip!” He wrinkled his nose and waved a hand in front of his face.
She giggled. The more he waved his hand, the harder she laughed. If that wasn’t just the cutest thing, he didn’t know what was. While he cleaned her up, he continued to make the stinky face—yep, he’d named it—and gained more laughter.
Cheyenne found them and glared at Chris from the doorway. “Why is she laughing?”
“Iwas making a face. It made her laugh.”
“I want to see.”
He did it again. Instantly, Ash laughed, but Cheyenne’s glower only darkened. “You’re not funny.”
Chris bit back a sigh. “Do you want to do something fun?”
“Like what?” She eyed him warily.
Like what, indeed. Erykah was outside, walking who knew where, and he didn’t want to encroach on her quiet time. “Want to watch a movie?”
“I want a tea party.”
Chris stared at her as his thoughts stuttered to a halt. Had her father had tea parties with her? Would Chris if he had a daughter? Definitely.
He nodded. “’Kay. I’ll be right up there.” He held up the diaper. “Do you want to throw this out for me?”
“No way,” she yelled as she raced toward the stairs.
“No running!”
Chris’s phone buzzed. He grabbed it, checking to see if the notification was from Erykah.
Tuck
Chris, are you able to make the wedding or not?
Tuck
And I’m not being accusatory.
