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“Tripp?” he called as he started for the kitchen.
“Yeah, in here,” Tripp called back.
When he walked into the kitchen, Tripp was standing at the stove, stirring a pot with Noah propped on one hip. Tripp turned and smiled at him, his dimples deepening. His heart fluttered. Damn, he really did look sexy with a kid in his arms.
“Hey,” Tripp said.
“Hey. What’s with the kid?”
“We’re babysitting so mommy and daddy can have a night out. Isn’t that right, Noah?” Tripp said in one of those voices that people used when talking to babies. He hated it. He thought it was stupid. Tripp somehow made it sound cute though.
“Greattt,” he drawled.
“Get used to it, Daddy.”
“Don’t call me that, it sounds weird.”
Tripp laughed.
“Here,” he said and held up the picture of his baby from the ultrasound.
Tripp set the wooden spoon in his hand on the counter next to the pot he was stirring. Looked like spaghetti sauce. He wiped his hand on his shorts, then took the picture from Jayme.
“Oh my god. It’s a little bean,” Tripp gushed.
He laughed. “Yeah.”
“It’s cute. Looks just like you.”
“Shut up.”
Tripp chuckled. Noah reached for the picture, but Tripp held it away from him. “Uh uh, no way are you getting your grubby hands on this. Put it on the fridge, Jayme.”
He took it back from Tripp and did as he said, placing the photo under a plain black round magnet on the front of the fridge. He stepped back and looked at it. He swallowed hard. This was really happening. He was really going to be a dad in just over six months. Tripp patted his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“It’s gonna be great,” Tripp said softly.
“I’m not sure,” he rasped.
“You can get some practice in with Noah tonight.”
He lifted his lip in a sneer. “No thanks.”
Tripp chuckled.
“I’m going to get a shower.”
“Okay. Dinner is almost done.”
“Okay.”
He went and got a shower. When he opened the bathroom door, he could hear Noah fussing. He went into his room and shut the door. He dressed in gym shorts and a T-shirt, then opened his door and was met with Noah’s screaming. What the hell was Tripp doing to the kid? He wandered downstairs and into the kitchen where Noah was in his car seat, having a fucking fit, while Tripp messed with the food on the stove.
“How do you make it stop?” he asked loudly to be heard over the screaming.
“He’s hungry. I have to make his bottle. You can pick him up, that might help,” Tripp said, glancing over his shoulder at Jayme.
“Pick him up?”
“Yeah.”
“Doesn’t he have a pacifier or something?”
“He doesn’t want it.”
Jayme couldn’t take anymore of the screaming. He took a deep breath and bent down, he tucked his hands under Noah’s arms and lifted him out of the seat. He held him out at an arm’s length, not knowing how to change him around without dropping him. Noah quieted though, so that was a plus. Noah stared at him, one fist in his mouth as he kicked his legs.
“Ha! I did it!” he exclaimed.
Noah’s face turned red and he grunted a couple times. Jayme frowned. What the hell was he doing? Then the smell hit him, and he gagged. “Jesus fucking Christ! Tripp! He just shit himself.”
~~~
Tripp
Tripp turned while shaking the bottle and barked out a laugh at the scene in front of him. Jayme was holding Noah out in front of him like he was holding the most disgusting thing in the world. The look on his face didn’t help either. He was grossed out. And yeah, going by the smell emanating from Noah, the kid took a major dump.
He set the bottle down on the counter, then went and took Noah from Jayme. “I’ll change him, why don’t you get started with dinner.”
“You want me to eat now? After smelling that?”
“Dude! You can handle a dead deer. Which smells much worse than a diaper full of shit, by the way.”
“Uh huh, no, this is worse.”
He shook his head. “No way, man. You’re crazy.”
He left Jayme in the kitchen and grabbed a new diaper and wipes from Noah’s diaper bag. He changed the shitty diaper, then went back into the kitchen to find Jayme putting pasta in a bowl.
He thrust Noah against Jayme’s chest. “Here, I gotta take care of the diaper. I can’t put it in the kitchen trash can.”
Jayme dropped the spaghetti spoon into the pot and wrapped his arms around the baby, his head snapping up to stare at Tripp. Jayme’s mouth moved, but nothing came out as Tripp headed for the back door.
“You’re doing great!” he called and slipped out the backdoor, so he could put the dirty diaper in the outside trash can.
When he returned, Jayme was still in the same spot, but he was turning his head in all different directions as Noah tried to stick his fingers in Jayme’s mouth. Noah was hysterical laughing while Jayme said, “No.” over and over.
