"You'll like this one." I kiss her forehead, reluctant to let go but knowing I need to get to the docks. "I promise."
She walks me to the door, and I force myself to leave even though every instinct says to stay. But Saturday's coming. Saturday I get her alone, get to remind her what we are when the rest of the world fades away.
I just have to make sure Stellan doesn't accidentally kill my daughter first.
23
DECLAN
Saturday arrives and I'm practically vibrating with nervous energy by the time Stellan shows up. He looks about as comfortable as a man heading into enemy territory unarmed, which would be funny if my entire evening didn't depend on him not screwing this up.
"You look like you're going to throw up." I open the door before he can knock.
"I might." He steps inside, eyes scanning the bookstore like he's checking for exits. "Why did I agree to this again?"
"Because you love me and want me to be happy." I lock the door behind him, flip the sign to closed. "And because if you don't, I'll make your life a living hell."
"There's the threat I was waiting for." But he's already climbing the stairs, resigned to his fate.
Zola's in the nursery with Maeve, changing her into pajamas. The baby's babbling away, completely oblivious to the fact that her evening is about to be handed over to a man who's never changed a diaper without direct supervision.
And yes, I've been making him change them all week so I know he can do it right.
"Stellan." Zola glances up, secures the last snap. "Right on time."
"I'm nothing if not punctual when facing certain doom." He hovers in the doorway like he's not sure he's allowed to enter.
"Get in here." I gesture him forward. "We're running through everything one more time."
"We've been through it four times this week." But he's already moving closer, watching as I pick up Maeve.
"And we're going through it again." I settle her against my chest, her warm weight familiar now. "Bottle's in the fridge. You heat it by running warm water over it for about two minutes—not the microwave, it gets too hot. Test it on your wrist before you give it to her."
"Warm water, two minutes, test on wrist." Stellan nods. "Got it."
"She gets the bottle around seven, then you read her a story. Doesn't matter which one—she can't actually understand them yet, but she likes the sound of your voice. After that, you rock her for about ten minutes and put her down in the crib with her elephant." I'm ticking items off on my fingers now. "She might fuss for a few minutes but she'll settle. If she doesn't, you pick her up and start over."
"Bottle, story, rocking, crib, elephant." He's actually taking notes on his phone. "What if she cries?"
"Then you figure out why." Zola moves past me, heading for her bedroom. "Check her diaper, see if she's hungry, make sure nothing's hurting her. She's pretty good at communicating if you pay attention."
"I don't speak baby."
"You'll learn." I press a kiss to Maeve's head, breathing in that particular scent that's just hers—baby soap and something sweet. "And if something goes really wrong, you call me. Butnothing's going to go wrong because you're not an idiot and she's not that complicated."
"You say that now." Stellan reaches for her, lets me transfer her into his arms. She goes easily, one sticky hand immediately grabbing his shirt. "What if?—"
"Stellan." I step closer, drop my voice. "You've handled men twice your size trying to kill you. You've talked your way out of situations that should've ended with bullets. You've never backed down from anything in your entire life. You can handle one nine-month-old for a few hours."
"She's not trying to kill me though." He adjusts his grip, getting her settled properly. "That I know how to deal with. This is different."
"It's easier." Zola reappears wearing a sundress I've never seen before—dark green with thin straps, hitting just above her knee. My mouth goes dry. "Just keep her safe and don't let her eat anything that's not already approved. Her schedule's on the fridge."
"Schedule on the fridge, don't let her die, call if emergency." Stellan's bouncing Maeve gently now, more natural than he probably realizes. "Anything else?"
"Yeah." I move close enough that Maeve can't hear the edge in my voice. "She better have the best night ever with you. I want her laughing, content, sleeping peacefully. If I come back and she's been crying or upset or traumatized in any way, you're dead. Clear?"
"Crystal." But there's almost fondness in the way he says it. "Get out of here before I change my mind."
