That, I don’t argue against, even when I see him pulling out his phone, putting it in front of us.
I bend down and kiss her cheek. Stan does the same on the other side. She squeezes her eyes shut, groaning, as the camera flashes.
After a while, Stan looks at his phone, satisfied. “Perfect.”
She peeks at him. “What did you just do?”
“New background,” he says. “Forever.”
Stan doesn’t wait for either of us to respond.
He looks down at his phone again, then points at the screen. “I’m printing thisbig. Above our bed. Before that printing place by the sex shop closes.”
“Stan,” I say, knowing it’s useless to try to stop him by now.
“You’re so right, babe. I’ll get more lube while I’m there!” He’s backing away fast. “Don’t change, babes. Don’t blink. I love you both!” Then he’s gone, footsteps quick, taking off down the hall with his maniacal chuckles.
I shake my head and look down at Em rubbing her cheeks with her palms.
“My face hurts,” she mutters.
“That means we kissed you good,” I say.
She drops her hands, glasses slightly crooked, so I fix it for her. “I wasn’t prepared for that photo.”
“Yeah, he kinda counts on that,” I tell her, frowning sympatheticallybefore I glance down the hall. “Did you still want to check on Riz?”
Her smile comes back. “I’d like that very much.”
With that settled, we head toward the nursery.
Riz. Yeah, it’s an interesting nickname, alright. Stan’s doing, obviously. Idris the Second never stood a chance, even though Em’s technically right, that the kid’s named after his biological dad.
Still, Stan insisted. “Idris the Second sounds like a murderer in the making,” Stan said the first time he heard it. “Please, god, no. Let’s not call the little guy that.”
So Riz stuck. And it’s a really adorable nickname for such a well-behaved baby. I wouldn’t expect any less from someone who came from Em and Idris.
We reach the nursery door, warm light spilling out as soon as I open the door for us.
Inside, one of the orphans the family’s fostering, Will, sits near the window in his wheelchair, a bundled baby cradled in his arms. He looks up when we step in.
“Hey,” he says. “There’s a lot of people out there today.”
Em walks closer to him. “Too many for you, Will?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not bad, but my introverted butt’s happier in here.” He looks down at the baby, turning to show us it’s Riz. “I get bonding time with the boys, and Stan promised to show me how to hack better if I babysit on the weekends.”
I sigh. “Stan’s a bad influence.”
Will laughs. “Damon and Sterling are way worse.”
Em studies him. “How so?”
Will grins. “Damon showed me how to be Sterling’s contact when he was a mercenary. The pay was so good. Ten percent every target Damon sent to me to tell Sterling to…” He makes a slicing gesture with his thumb, then he pouts. “Babysitter pay isn’t as good, though.”
Em offers a raise, talking logistics and schedules, while I watchlittle Riz yawn with his small fists out of the blankets.
Will shuffles in his wheelchair. “I’ll think about it,” he tells Em. “Thanks for the offer.”
