Page 25 of Talk Wicked to Me

“I’ll just be sitting in a chair reading and typing.”

“With your mind on full alert, which makes your body follow. Please give yourself a chance to heal. That’s all I’m asking. I know you’re used to doing it all, and you have a deadline, but right now that little boy needs the best of you.”

“I know he does, but I’m fine. I promise I’ll rest when I get tired. I’m just not ready to sleep right now.”

“You don’t have to sleep. You can lie there and listen to music or an audiobook and close your eyes. Let your mind rest, so your body can heal.”

He had valid points, and it would be easy to give in to her fatigue, but she needed to prove to herself that she could do this on her own. “Baz, I’ve made it this far taking care of myself. I’ve got this.”

His jaw clenched again, but he nodded curtly and carried Brennan into the dining room. He set the carrier beside the desk and headed into the kitchen. “You need to stay hydrated.” He returned with a glass of ice water and set it beside her laptop. “I don’t like leaving you without any help. Do you want me to ask my mother to come stay with you for a few hours?”

“No. That’s sweet of you to offer, but I’m fine. If you hadn’t come along when I was in labor, you’d be out living your life right now, and I’d be here by myself.”

The muscles in his jaw bunched again, and he crouched beside Brennan. Her eyes must be playing tricks on her, because she swore he was looking longingly at her little boy, as if it was painful to leave him behind.

“Be good for your mama, ya hear?” he whispered, and placed a gentle kiss on his head.

Good Lord. That had more knee-weakening power than his puppy-dog eyes.

He pushed to his feet, and she walked him to the door and opened it, hoping she didn’t sound ungrateful, but if she didn’t get him out of there, she might change her mind. “Thank you again for everything you’ve done. You can drop off Ollie anytime.”

“Would you mind if we kept him for a few more days, so you and Brennan can get settled? He’s doing well with training, but the more he has, the better.”

“I don’t want him to feel abandoned.”

“I promise you, he doesn’t, and without a fenced yard, he’ll need to be walked. How are you going to do that with the baby?”

Was there anything he didn’t notice? “I was going to put in a picket fence, but I didn’t get around to it in time. I’ll order one of those strap-on baby carriers.”

“And if Ollie takes off after a squirrel or another animal? Em, I’m only asking for a few days. I want to be sure he doesn’t pull you down the sidewalk, and he could use some work on his recall, too, in case he breaks free. Sid’s also trying to break him of the habit of barking when someone knocks or comes through the front door so he doesn’t wake your baby.”

The independent woman in her wanted to insist she could handle her dog and her baby, but the new mom in her wasn’t so sure. She hadn’t considered the complexities of walking Ollie with Brennan. She’d assumed she’d be able to carry on with that part of her life the same way she always had. But Ollie did pull on the leash, and sometimes he tried to chase squirrels and birds. She imagined herself running after him with Brennan strapped to her chest, her newborn crying because he needed to nurse or his diaper changed. She was not going to let her dog or her baby down. She’d walk Ollie around the yard until she was comfortable going farther, and she’d order a baby carrier today. But it might take a couple of days to arrive.

“Okay,” she relented. “But only for a few days.”

“Great. I’ll let you know when I’m going to swing by with him.” He looked at her for a long moment, and then he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You’ve got my number. Text or call if you need me. Anytime, day or night.”

She nodded, knowing she wouldn’t bother him, and watched him heading for his truck. She appreciated his concern, but she didn’t want him to think she needed him to take care of them. She tried to ignore that kernel of discomfort in her gut. She’d see him in a few days when he dropped off Ollie, and maybe after a few weeks, when she and Brennan were settled into a routine, she would try to strike up their friendship again.

As he opened his truck door, she remembered he had the base of the car seat. “Baz,” she called out. “I need the rest of the car seat.”

“So you can go cruisin’ for subs before you’re allowed to drive? No way, Wonder Woman. The doc said you shouldn’t drive for at least a week. I’ll give it back next weekend, and if you need something before that, you’ve got my number.” With a wink and a flash of that knee-weakening smile, he climbed into his truck.

His pushiness should annoy her, but she was still smiling as he drove out of view. Somehow this guy who had only just met her had already figured out the stubborn, self-sufficient parts of her.

She closed the door and looked around, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky to have met him. She went into the dining room and turned on her laptop, astonished again that Baz had brought in a desk and bookshelves for her. She crouched in front of Brennan, still asleep and more adorable than ever. Where did you get that hair, little man? Brennan’s father, Marco, was Spanish, and he had thick, wavy black hair, but the way Brennan’s hair stood straight up reminded her of her father’s straight dark hair. She whispered, “I love you,” and then she carried her hospital bag into the laundry room off the kitchen.

As she tossed the dirty clothes she’d worn the day she’d given birth into the washer, she remembered how scared she’d been when she’d realized she was in active labor and alone on the side of the road. Unable to find her phone, and suffering through contractions, I’mokayI’mokayI’mokay had run through her mind like a mantra, and on its heels, frantic prayers that nothing would go wrong. She’d imagined the worst. The umbilical cord around the baby’s neck, the baby getting stuck in the birth canal, and worse. And then Baz had appeared, and she’d been flooded with relief, instantly feeling safer.

She turned on the washer and headed back into the dining room. When she sat at the desk, she noticed things she’d missed at first glance. Like a mug with a Dark Knights emblem on it full of pens and pencils, her notepad beside the laptop, and the framed picture on the corner of the desk of her with her parents, bundled under a blanket on the couch. She picked it up, remembering when it was taken. It was the summer she’d turned thirteen. They’d stayed up late watching eighties Brat Pack movies, which her parents had called a rite of passage for teenagers.

She’d never kept a picture of her parents on her desk. Now she wondered why she hadn’t. She was glad Baz had thought to put one there. It made her happy to see it.

Brennan started fussing.

She set down the photo, reaching for him. “It’s okay, sweetie. Mama’s here.” Mama? Where’d that come from? During her pregnancy, she’d imagined her child calling her Mommy and Mom, like she’d called her mother. Baz’s deep voice sailed through her mind in answer. He’s beautiful, just like his mama…Time to go back to Mama. How the heck had that happened so fast?

Chiding herself for thinking about him, she focused on her crying baby, putting Brennan on her shoulder. “Your bottom is wet. Let’s get you cleaned up.” His cries escalated as she carried him into the living room. When she laid him down and unsnapped the sleeper, she realized it was poop, not urine, that had seeped out his diaper. “Poor baby.”