Page 42 of His Fake Fiancé

She logged off the computer and picked up her bag, rifling through it in search of her keys. As she snapped off the light and hurried out of the office, she couldn’t help but feel things were about to get slightly more complicated. Lord help them all.

Chapter 13

Jake was exhausted. There was no other word to describe the way his body ached. Keeping up with Olivia, making sure she was fed and changed and entertained and didn’t, you know, die, was fucking draining.

It gave him a heathy new appreciation for Sabrina, Grace, and especially his mom. They’d all basically taken turns being Olivia’s caretaker since the baby had come into their lives.

He was such an asshole for not appreciating everything Mama had done for him. And not just since Olivia had arrived. Mama had always been his rock, his one constant, and now that he looked back, he could see he’d taken her, and all the things she’d done for both him and his brothers, for granted.

He flopped onto the sofa and groaned, his injured side aching like a motherfucker. Olivia was currently sitting in the pack and play, flinging a small stuffed cow around, while every once in a while, giving one of its legs a chew. The whole thing was a spitty, soggy mess, and so bloody cute he could hardly stand it.

To say the day had been a rollercoaster would be an understatement of such huge proportions, he wasn’t sure he could actually measure it. After Claire had left, he’d thought things were under control.

He was so wrong. The universe had decided to take him down a notch, knock him off his cocky pedestal, and boy, did she ever.

First, he couldn’t get Olivia to eat anything. He tried instant oatmeal, which she promptly spit out after the first spoonful and then refused to open her mouth on the next. Then he tried yogurt which she refused to eat, instead picking up the bowl and tossing it over the side of her highchair and onto the floor. After three tries of that, he gave up. Finally, he sliced up a banana and tossed in a handful of dry cheerios. That she inhaled, squishing the banana in her fist and then licking it off her hand. More of the cheerios ended up on the floor than in her, but he took it as a win.

After that, they played for a while. Mostly peek-a-boo and who’s got your nose.

That’s when the fun stopped.

She’d gotten super fussy, rubbing her eyes and yawning and all of that. So, he assumed she was tired. Nope. Every time he tried to get her down for a nap, she cried. Didn’t matter what he did, she refused to close her eyes, keeping herself awake by flailing her arms around, and just generally being a pain in the butt.

He’d been just about around the bend, and if Mama had been home, he would have crawled across the lawn to the house and begged her, on his knees, to help him. But that wasn’t an option. He’d come close a number of times to calling Claire and asking her to bail his ass out, but had stopped at the last second. This wasn’t her responsibility, it was his, and it was damn well time he took it seriously.

And that very much included the cranky baby who refused to sleep.

He put her in her crib and shut the door, but then spent the next fifteen minutes listening to her cry through the baby monitor. Giving up on that idea, he then sat in the chair, much like last night, and rocked her. This time, it did bupkis. She flailed and cried and fussed. He walked around the house, holding her against his chest and bouncing her lightly and murmuring silly words to her. That seemed to calm her down, and eventually she did the whole putting her fingers in her mouth thing. He figured he was home free.

He was wrong.

He’d waited until he was sure she was asleep, and then crept into the nursery. As slowly as he could, he lowered her into the crib. She squirmed a bit but then settled, her little lips moving in the cutest little motion.

Barely breathing for fear of waking her, he’d stood there, staring at her for the longest time. His heart swelled so big he was afraid it was going to jostle his other organs around. Even when she was being a little fuss pot, he loved her so much it hurt. He didn’t think he’d ever loved anything more in the entire world and he knew, without a doubt, he would do anything to keep her safe. Make sure she never wanted for anything. Make sure she had the life she deserved.

Just as he was about to slip into the hallway, his phone rang. And because he was an idiot, it was in the pocket of his jeans. The loud blast of music cut through the silence like a chainsaw through butter.

He scrambled to turn it off, but it was too late.

Olivia wailed and rolled over so she could push herself up to her feet. She grabbed onto the crib railing and bounced up and down. Her face was red and big fat tears slid down her chubby cheeks.

Jake stood there for a moment, like a deer staring down the headlights of an oncoming Mack truck. He glanced at the phone in his hand and then at the baby and then back at the phone. The music didn’t stop and neither did the wailing.

In that moment, he knew how Olivia felt. A good bout of screaming his head off probably would go a long way to making him feel better. Not productive however, so instead, he scooped up the baby with one arm, and holding her against his chest, he answered the phone.

“Hello?”

At least Olivia had stopped wailing. She was tucked in with her head under his chin, whimpering and cooing.

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s mom. Just checking in and seeing how things were going?”

Did Mama have a sixth sense about these things? He collapsed into the chair, ignoring the ache in his side, and started rocking. The motion soothed his messed up nerves. “Everything’s… good?”

“Is that a question?”

He snorted. Olivia lifted her head and reached for the phone with her chubby, saliva covered fingers. He twisted his head so it was just out of her reach. She protested loudly, and he shushed her, jostling her up and down a little. She yawned, another huge one for someone so small, and then plonked her head back on his shoulder. “No,” he said, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “It wasn’t a question. Things are good.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Is Claire there with you?”