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“I know, chica, sucks to be you, huh? All you’re stuck with is nasty milk,” I tell her, as I take a bite of my sandwich.
I can tell she’s beginning to get agitated so I scarf down the rest of my sandwich, wash my hands, and pick the poor girl up. I carry her out of the kitchen and pick up the diaper bag sitting on the floor by the couch. Pulling out a pad to use for changing diapers, I commence doing just that. I’m not by any means a pro, but I’ve definitely changed enough diapers to know what to do. When my cousins were younger, I would watch them while my Aunt Tricia and Uncle Hunter would go out to dinner or the movies.
Once she’s changed and fresh, I prop her a little on her side and get up to wash my hands. Afterwards, I make my way back to herand pick her up. Switching on the television, I recline on the end of the couch with her lying on my chest. I settle on watchingAmerican Pickers. A few minutes later, I glance down and notice Amari is asleep. I settle farther down the couch and it’s not long before I drift off as well.
I JOLT AWAKE SOME time later from the banging on my door. I immediately look down to make sure Amari is okay and see her curious gaze on me again. She’s tucked close to my chest with her small body resting against the arm that’s up against the couch. I smile down at her sweet little face, lying on my breast. She really is a cute little baby. A small twinge hits my chest. I wish I could still have this, but know it’s not possible now. No way am I having children now. That dream was crushed long ago. The one person I wanted to share that dream with has now made it impossible for me to obtain it. I can’t see myself having children with anyone else.
The knocking sounds again, reminding me of what woke me up. I carefully maneuver Amari around so she stays in the crook of my arm, and slowly get up off the couch. On sock covered feet, I walk over to the door and unlock it without looking to see who it is.
That was my first mistake, and I realize it as soon as I open the door to see Mac standing on the other side looking his usual sexy self. His dark hair is messy and just long enough to hang over the collar of his hunter-green t-shirt. My eyes travel down and I see well-worn faded jeans hanging from his trim hips and a pair of tan-colored Cat boots. When I bring my gaze back up to his, I see a small smirk and it pisses me off. What the fuck is he doing here?
“What are you doing here, Sheriff?” I ask, with irritation in my voice that I don’t try to hide.
His eyes flare for a minute before he looks down at Amari in my arms. Once they land on her, a soft look crosses his face.
“I heard you were watching Amari this weekend for Jaxon and Bailey. I wanted to stop by and see if you needed anything.”
He’s lying and we both know it. I decide not to call him out on it.
“No, we’re both fine. Thanks, but you can leave now.” I know I’m being rude, but I just don’t care. I don’t owe him any kindness. I go to close the door in his face, but at the last second, he reaches out and stops me.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
“Why?” I ask suspiciously. He must know that I don’t want him in my house. Mac’s never been in my house and I sure as fuck don’t want him in here now. Why would he even ask?
“Because I’d like to talk to you.” Mac holds his hand up to stop the protest that he knows is coming. After every attempt he’s made so far, he must know that I’m certainly not going to give in now. “Not about that. Well, it is, but what I have to say isn’t to tell you about what happened that night.” He stops talking and rakes his hand through his hair. It’s a habit he’s had since he was a teenager, and he does it when he gets agitated or feels deep emotion. Looking back at me, he continues, with frustration written on his face, “For fuck’s sake, Mia, can you just listen to me for once?”
This is where I make my second mistake. I know that what I’m about to do is something that I shouldn’t, but I do it anyway. As much as I don’t want to hear what he has to say, I know he won’t give up until I do. Not looking forward to having him in my space, I take a much-needed deep breath before opening the door wide and taking a step back.
The relief I see on his face annoys me. I know it’s petty and childish of me, but I don’t like him getting what he wants when it comes to me.
I turn to walk back into the living room, and I feel Amari squirming and whimpering. I look down at her and realize it’s time for her to eat. An idea forms in my head and I turn back to Mac.
“Here, hold Amari while I warm up her bottle.”
I take a step toward him and see panic on his face. It takes everything I have not to snicker at him.
“I’m… uh… not sure… ” he stutters, and trails off. I almost laugh at his sad, pathetic face.
“Oh, come on, Mac. It’s not like you’ve never held a baby before.” My words have his eyes narrowing with a hard edge to them. I don’t care. He’s here because he wants me to listen. The least he can fucking do is help out.
I step up to him, and while making sure to support her head, I bring her away from my body toward him. He automatically brings his arms up to his chest and leans toward me. Leaning closer to him until our bodies are almost touching, I gently place Amari in his arms. My hands and arms rub up against his, and I feel a tingle start in my center. My awareness of him is becoming ridiculous. This is so not the time or place for my body to betray me.
As Mac arranges his arms in a more comfortable position, I take a step back. What I see makes my heart skip a beat. Mac has his eyes glued to Amari and the expression on his face is complete adoration for the bundle in his arms. That twinge comes back full force. This is what we were supposed to have. Mac should be holding our baby right now. My throat clogs as I watch him look lovingly at Amari.
He looks up at me and smiles tenderly.
“She’s beautiful,” he says, and looks back down at the baby.
I don’t say anything to him because my throat is so tight I’m sure nothing would come out except for a croak. Tears sting my eyes and I have to blink to make sure none fall. Mac holding a baby is something I’ve imagined hundreds of times, except the images I always conjured up were of him holding our baby.
He made damn sure that dream will never come to fruition.
Shaking my head to rid myself of my depressing thoughts, I turn on my heel and head into the kitchen. Grabbing a pot out of the cabinet, I fill it with water and put it on medium on the stove. Next, I grab an already filled bottle out of the fridge,place it in the water, and wait for it to heat up. When I turn around, I see Mac standing in the doorway watching me.
“How hard was it to get Jaxon and Bailey to leave?” he asks.
I roll my eyes and lean against the counter. “I pretty much had to shove them out the door. Bailey was terrible.”
