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His services. What kind of services? The kind that requires a bed? I glance toward the bed and notice the clock.
Shit! We’re late! How the hell did I forget we’re going to be late? There’s something wrong with me when it comes to Elder.
“No! The time!”
“Ten? I thought you set your alarm for eight.”
“I did!”
“No reason to panic.”
I growl. “Don’t tell me to not panic.”
“You deal with Robin. I’ll move the bedding and clean things up a bit.”
He rushes out of the room and I take a second to admire his perfect ass displayed in those skintight boxers. I snap a mental picture because I will not be enjoying that view again. Must resist Elder.
I dress as quickly as I can before hurrying to the nursery where Robin is awake in her crib with the dogs laying on the ground around her.
“Good morning, baby girl,” I coo as I pick her up. “Shall we get you dressed in something pretty this morning?”
The doorbell rings and Robin screeches in response. I really need to get rid of that doorbell.
Elder rushes into the room. “You okay?”
I bounce Robin on my hip. “I’m okay but little missus hates the doorbell.”
He frowns. “I’ll deal with it later. Ms. Cross is here.”
Of course, she is. She wouldn’t come at a time when we’ve got everything under control. Nope. She’s here when the baby is screaming, Elder’s still not wearing a shirt, and— I sniff. Someone needs a change.
“I need to change Robin.”
He reaches for the baby. “I got her. You go handle Ms. Cross.”
“Are you sure?” I ask instead of handing him the baby. Robin is my baby girl. Not his.
He snatches the baby from me. “I’m sure. Now go.”
When I don’t move, he nudges me toward the door. “I got this. It’s not my first time changing her diaper.”
True. He is pretty good about taking turns with diaper changing. In fact, he was up most of the night with me when Robin couldn’t sleep. I frown. Did he forget this marriage is fake? I mentally slap myself upside the head. Deal with Ms. Cross now. Elder later.
The dogs flank me as I walk to the living room. Ms. Cross stands in the middle of the room studying the area. What does she see? Does she approve?
I clear my throat. “Ms. Cross. Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Her brow wrinkles. “You have an awful lot of dogs.”
Dogs? Are dogs a problem? Can a guardian not have dogs?
“I’m a vet tech. I work at the Wildlife Refuge here. I assure you my dogs are not a threat to Robin. In fact, they love her.”
“Yes, well…,” she mutters as she makes a note.
Bang! Bang!
I glance at the sliding door to the backyard and cringe when I notice Billy standing there. Oh no! The dogs might not be a problem, but a goat is definitely a problem.
