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“And by busy, you mean banging the sisters?”
“Nah, that was a one-time thing. Never again.”
“Why not?” he asks. “No interest in showing off your raging hard-on to the hospital staff?”
Yep, I made the mistake of telling him about that.
I sigh. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Probably not,” he admits. “Anyway, I’m locking you down tomorrow. If you’re not at my apartment by noon with a thoughtful baby gift in hand for my sister, I’ll drag your ass over.”
Sadly, I don’t think he’s exaggerating. Drew is a big guy. Like really, really big. I guess it comes in handy when you fight fires for a living.
“Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll be there.”
“Don’t forget my new uncle gift,”
“What the fuck is a ‘new uncle gift’?”
“Is that a serious question?” he replies. “Beer. And if you wanted to show up with a pizza too, I wouldn’t complain.”
“Of course not,” I mutter. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re the best, Brody! See you tomorrow.”
I hang up the phone and look down at my lap. Imagine that; my good ol’ buddy, Drew, works wonders on deflating an erection. Oh well, at least I can get shit done now.
Chapter Six
RAINEY
“I can’t believe what a little champ he is with nursing,” Devyn declares with a loving smile as she watches her son suckling her breast.
“He’s a natural,” I agree. “And so are you, Mama.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I really do,” I assure her.
She pulls him away when he’s had enough and props him against her shoulder. “Thank you, Rainey. I’m starting to believe that it does get easier once your instincts kick in. The only part I’m really struggling with—well, besides feeling like a zombie all the time—is getting him to burp after he feeds. I can never seem to get a good one out of him and the poor thing has been having the worst gas pains.”
I open my arms, gesturing for her to pass the baby. “May
I?”
She hands him over. “Be my guest.”
I hold Nathan to my chest with his chin resting on my shoulder. “I like to rub the back a bit to put a little pressure on the abdomen before I start patting. Sometimes babies just need a slightly firmer hand.”
I demonstrate by rubbing circles on his back and then I give him a few good thwacks between the shoulder blades.
BURRRP!
Devyn beams when her son releases a belch worthy of a frat house. I, however, tense up when I feel the unmistakable sign of spit up running down my back and my front. Damn, how much did this kid drink?
“He did it!” Devyn shouts excitedly.
“He did,” I agree.
