“You ready to go?” he asks, and I nod.
After we get back to the house, Zane lugs everything inside, nearly filling the living room. I put Bentley down for a nap in the bassinet we ordered the other day. I attach a little mobile above it and turn it on. A zebra, lion, giraffe, and a bird all dance like a carousel as the soft music plays, and I watch it for a moment. The music reminds me of a carnival. The magic of a merry-go-round. The lights. Then I look down at him again, running my fingertips through his delicate curls, and a lump forms in my throat.
When I go back into the living room, I find Zane assembling a changing table.
“So you’re a carpenter now, too?” I ask. “Is there anything you don’t do?”
“Assemble baby furniture sober,” he says, shoving himself up from the floor. “I need a beer, you want one?”
“That sounds amazing,” I answer, blinking back the tears I hadn’t noticed until I left Bentley’s room. I watch as he saunters over to the fridge with the same easy movement he has when he’s modeling. It’s kind of funny. I don’t know if he bases the way he moves through his daily life on his modeling posture, or if he bases his modeling posture on the way he moves daily. It’s like there’s two sides to him, but they blend together to make a strong, easy-going, sexy, confident man that I can’t stop staring at.
I also can’t help but notice that he’s run his hand through his hair multiple times since I came back into the living room.
“You look like you’ve got something weighing on your mind,” I tell him. He hands me a beer bottle, and I sit down on one of the counter stools.
“You mean besides my boss making all my career choices for me and becoming Insta-Dad? Just add baby formula.”
“Or in this case, beer, which by the way is not light or low-cal,” I say, noting the IPA label on the bottle. “There is definitely something on your mind.”
“There is,” he agrees after taking a sip.
“I’m sure it’s crazy finding out you’re a dad.” I say.
“It is, but that’s actually not what I wanted to talk to you about. Ask you about I should say,” he says and I wait.
“Okay…?” I half-smile.
He takes a deep breath before spitting it out all at once. “Nigel wants you to pretend that Bentley is yours,” he says.
I blink. “He…he what?” I ask.
“He thinks that it will smooth all of this over if we pretend that we’re–”
“A family,” I finish the sentence for him.
“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Listen, if you think it’s too messy, I get it. Nigel is nuts.”
I nod slowly, chewing on my lip as I do. It is nuts. Making up some story that Zane and I are in a serious relationship was one thing; a baby left on his doorstep was another. Now I’m being asked to pretend I’m actually Bentley’s mother?
Except it doesn’t feel like I’m playing.
Aside from helping foster parents at the daycare, it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to having a baby of my own.
Not only that, but it’s not just about Bentley.
I want to be around Zane, too.
I want to be a part of all of it.
“I’ll do it,” I finally say, and I can literally see his face softening in both relief and surprise.
“You will?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, absently picking the label off the beer bottle. “He needs someone.”
Zane nods with a small smile. “He does, and the more I think about it…so do I.”
My heart does a tiny flip in my chest. “I guess it’s lucky for the two of you I’m not going anywhere. Now, if you don’t mind, we've got work to do.”
