Page 18 of Surviving in Clua


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“Zi. Come on. You have to hold her, you’re her fairy Godmother,” Laia laughs.

I glance over to where the proud parents are watching, matching amused grins on their faces.

“Fine.” I blow out another steadying breath and hold my arms into an awkward cradle. “Just… don’t let me drop her.”

I tense before Mylo even moves. Hold my breath until he carefully passes me the sleeping baby. My nose buzzes with more tears the moment the little pink peanut snuggles down into her fluffy blankets. She’s too perfect. All squishy and warm and beautiful.

“What color hair does she have?”

“Take her hat off and have a look.” Felix lays precariously along the side of the bed beside Laia and wraps his arm around her shoulders.

I push Seren’s pale-pink cotton hat from her head and a shock of jet-black curls spring out. She has Felix’s hair. An amazed smile on my face, I lift my gaze to Mylo.

The look on his face is—I don’t even know—intense. Eyebrows pinched up in the middle, jaw so tight it’s visible even through the thick hair of his beard. “Looks good on you.”

“Ha.” My sharp puff of laughter startles the baby, her little hands springing from her blankets like a kitten. I freeze, eyes wide, grimace on. “Shit. Sorry.” I jerk my gaze up to Laia. “Shit, I swore in front of the baby.”

“You’re fine.” She grins down at me. “Mylo’s right. You look good with her. Have one, so we can be mummy buddies.”

I snort again. But quieter this time. “Need to find a man for that shit—I mean—shit—sorry.”

I glance up to Mylo. Gone is the softness and the grinning. Brow low, back ramrod straight, he drags his hand over his mouth. “You want kids?”

The baby mews, sucking her lips into a tiny pout. I brush my finger down her soft little cheek and warmth pulls in my chest the moment she opens her itty-bitty eyes and stares into mine. “Sure. I mean, I guess. One day.”

I glance at a silent Mylo sitting across his pickup’s old worn leather bench seat from me. Whatever steps towards getting back to being any sort of normal I thought we’d taken seem to have been well and truly obliterated. He’s done nothing but grunt at me since we left the hospital.

Chewing on the inside of my bottom lip, I twist the silver ring on my thumb and stare out of the windscreen into the darkness. “So. That was nice.” I try for about the fifth time to get something out of the big lump. “I can’t believe they have a baby.” I side-eye him again.

His fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and he nods. That’s it. Not even a grunt this time.

My head falls back onto the headrest, and I let out a long sigh. “You gonna tell me what’s up? Or have you just used up your quota of nice for the month?”

His brow lowers impossibly even lower, and he shakes his head. “My quota of nice?”

“Yes.” I roll my eyes and resume staring out of the window. “You know for a big guy, you sure pout like an old lady.”

“Did you just call me an old lady?” The tension in his shoulders eases a tiny bit.

“No. I said you pout like one.”

“I didn’t realize old ladies were known for pouting.”

I pin him with my most unimpressed stare. “Quit changing the subject.”

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “The air-conditioning unit for Laia’s shop is stuck in Mexico.”

“That’s it?” I frown. He’s lying and he sucks at it.

He nods again and continues glaring at the road. “And you need to get your landlord to fix your door.”

“I am my landlord.”

For the first time since the hospital, he looks at me. “Really?”

“Why is that so surprising? Awoman like mecan own an apartment, you know.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Awoman like mecan do anything she puts her mind to.”

Finally, finally, his mouth curves into something resembling a smirk when he returns his attention to the road. “Of that I have no doubt.”

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