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“Saints preserve us, no.”
I smirk and help my mom get her coat on. “Talk to you tomorrow.”
She gives my arm a squeeze. “Yeah.” Then she walks out with the crystal headlights of Luke’s BMW sedan shining on her.
It’s strange to see him driving a car like mine. For the longest time, it was always trucks and SUVs, like he was going off road and might encounter the enemy. Now though, he’s got consulting gigs with Fortune 500 companies, so he drives something more likely to impress executives.
After I close the door, I head upstairs to see how things stand with Olivia. She seemed happy enough with the family dinner, but she’s still in resistance mode when it comes to commitments. That just won’t fly.
I open the guest room door and lean against the frame. Olivia stands next to Brady’s crib, reading softly. The kid lies on his back, pulling on his footie-pajamaed feet. The scene is so fucking sweet, it sends a knife through my heart. This is what I’ll miss out on if I let her leave. So, that’s never going to happen.
“I am a big llama now, Mama. Yes, but you are my baby, too, Kamah.” She closes the book and turns. When she sees me, her brows rise in surprise. She waves for us to go out.
“What kind of a name is Kamah?” I ask in a soft voice as she closes the guest room door partway.
“One that rhymes with llama. Welcome to the world of nursery rhymes and baby literature.”
“Hmm.” My finger pushes a strand of her hair back over her shoulder. “How long until you can leave him alone in there?”
She purses her lips like she’s not thrilled at that prospect. “As long as it takes for him to fall asleep.”
“Roughly?”
She shrugs. “Fifteen minutes or so. It was a lot of excitement and crawling around. I’m sure he’s tired.” After a beat she says, “I feel strange about leaving him alone. We don’t have a monitor in this room.”
“With the doors open, we’ll hear him. He’s right next door.”
“I guess, but it’s not the same as staying with him.”
“You feel guilty for leaving him alone so you can have sex with me?”
The flush that lights up her cheeks confirms it.
“What’s the alternative?” I ask. “We put his crib in the master bedroom, so you don’t have to leave him?”
She sucks in a breath. “No way.”
“Well? What do you suggest?”
“I don’t know. I’ll come and visit you once I’m sure he’s used to being here.” She pushes her hair back over her shoulder. “You wanted me to sleep in your room, so I did, but when I woke up in the morning he was already up and crying for me. If I’d been in the same room, I would’ve heard him as soon as he started making noise. Usually when he wakes up, I bring him right into bed with me and we hang out for a while. That’s the routine he’s used to.”
“I don’t care if you bring him into bed with us in the morning. Go ahead and do it.”
“Or I could visit your room and then come back and sleep in here at night. Because I need a minute to catch my breath, too. I just moved in. We aren’t even sure this is going to work.”
“Really? You’re not sure? Because I am.”
“How about if you give me a few days to settle in?”
“How about if we make up for lost time? You move into the master bedroom with me, and we turn this room into a nursery for him. I’ll set up the baby monitor first thing tomorrow.”
“Liam, come on,” she whispers.
“Come on what?”
My son picks that moment to start to fuss. She glances at the door with a pensive expression.
“I feel guilty leaving him. I planned for us to sleep in the same room until he was two or three.”
