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The baby let out a wail right before she spit up all over her blue onesie.
And that was precisely the end of that fantasy.
“Where’s Sadie?” I asked rather than staring at Gina’s perfect ass encased in tight denim as she bent over to grab a wipe to clean up the mess.
“Out back running around. She has energy to spare today. Figured she’d cause chaos with the tree.”
“Accurate.”
“Can you go grab the baby a fresh onesie? I have some unfolded laundry in the basket on the bed in my room.”
“Sure.” I scraped a hand through my hair as I watched Gina tend to the baby so capably. “Can I, uh, help?”
She looked over her shoulder with a lock of wavy dark hair tumbling into her eyes. “Do you really want to?”
“I’ll get that onesie.”
Her laughter followed me up the stairs and into her room.
She hadn’t lied that the half full laundry basket was on the bed. I hadn’t done much about converting the extra guest room into a nursery, so for now, the baby slept with Gina at night. Which probably wasn’t fair. I had to be taking advantage. And yet if I didn’t, I’d either have to set up the nursery or have the baby sleep in my room in her portable crib, and I absolutely was not ready for that.
I was willing to bet the baby wasn’t either.
Another thing I wasn’t ready for was finding Gina’s underwear mixed in with the baby’s things and my boxers and T-shirts. They were cheerfully tossed together like they belonged that way.
As if we weren’t just temporary roomies. Almost like we were a family. Starting to be one anyway.
I picked up a pair of tiny jeans with flowers embroidered on the back pockets. Cute. She’d grow out of them in no time, but she was still as small as a button. Which reminded me I had to call my doctor. I had to find a physician for her, preferably one who knew how to restart my heart because dear God, Gina wore thongs.
That was information I’d never known I needed to have. And now it was the sum of my entire life.
“Yo, Brooks,” she called from downstairs. “The baby is naked.”
That spurred me into motion, and I grabbed a new onesie. When Gina sent up another distress call, I leveled up on being a pervert and tucked the gray thong into my jacket pocket.
If I was going to hell, I might as well have prime spank bank material for the trip.
I came downstairs to find Gina dancing around with the diaper-clad baby to some classic Sinatra holiday song she’d put on. The baby was making those giggles that melted me into a freaking puddle. I’d read online that two months was early for babies to laugh, but it could happen. Of course my girl would be advanced. I didn’t doubt it for a minute.
Mostly because of my best friend, who talked and sang to her constantly, always giving her stimulation and someone to interact with. I was trying—God knew I was—but I wasn’t a natural. Not like Bee.
“You’re amazing with her.”
Gina glanced over at me, her smile faltering as her gaze zeroed in on my pocket. “Is that my panties?”
Dear God.
How could I claim to be capable of being sheriff when I wasn’t even competent enough to tuck away one little pair of thongs?
“No.”
Narrowing her eyes at me, she stepped forward, and I wasn’t fast enough to evade her grab for the contents of my pocket. Yet another demerit toward my supposed fitness as a duly sworn officer of the law.
She held up the panties between two fingers, arching a brow.
“Sorry. I sneezed and grabbed them because they were closest.”
She dropped them so fast that I laughed.
