6. Apparently I Needed Another Job
6
Apparently I Needed Another Job
“This will only be a little pinch.”
-Lies nurses tell
Natalie
“What is going on?” Assistant Alex asked, looking at his boss. “How did I become an uncle? Why is she still here? Why was there a cop in your place? Where is the goat?”
The questions came fast and hard, each one punctuated with a step further into the house.
“In order, one: because we needed you to be. Two: she was helping with the baby but called the cops, leading to three: The cop was here to check on why there was a baby here. And four: The goat is in the bathroom,” Dylan explained, ticking off his fingers with each answer. Alex just stared at him open mouthed.
Another crash from the bathroom echoed through the room, followed by a sad bleating. I was so glad the cop had left. There would be absolutely no explaining the goat in the bathroom. Unfortunately, the sound of water gurgled from the bathroom this time as well.
I was really, really glad this was Football Player’s apartment and not mine.
It felt like things were falling apart. The paper strings that we’d had tied around this scenario were now melting under the water currently creeping under the bathroom door.
And that’s when the baby started to cry in earnest.
Her tiny hand was red and wet from her sucking on and not getting anything out of it and she was not happy. Poor little girl was at the absolute end of her rope. Both men winced as they looked at her, unsure of what they were supposed to do next.
“I’m better with plumbing than babies, so I’ll go rescue the goat,” Alex said, dropping the groceries on the floor and rushing toward the bathroom. I couldn’t blame him. The baby was screaming full force now, and she was using every available muscle in her little body to be as loud as possible.
Football Player just stared at the baby in his arms like he didn’t have a clue.
Probably because he didn’t.
So I fumbled around in the grocery bags until I found a formula bottle. Thank heaven he had listened to me and purchased the premixed bottles of formula. Three separate brands of formulas, six different bottles, and what looked like four different kinds of wipes rolled out of the bag I went through first.
Well, at least he was thorough.
I chose one of the pre-mixed formula bottles with a nipple attached to the packaging.
“Come here,” I said, motioning to Dylan. “You’re going to have to learn how to do this.”
I ripped open the packaging and screwed the lid onto the bottle.
“You should wash your hands before doing this,” I said, handing him the bottle. “But she’s at the furious hunger stage.”
“Doesn’t it need to be warmed up?” He held the bottle like it might bite him.
“I think she’s hungry enough she’d take it ice cold,” I replied.
He didn’t move. The baby continued to scream. She looked so tiny in his arms, but he held her delicately and gently.
“Here.” I moved his arms, putting the baby in the standard cradle position. “Run the nipple under her lower lip and she’ll find it.”
He swallowed hard, like he was nervous about feeding a baby, but did what I said. The baby fussed for a moment and then attacked the bottle with gusto. She sucked hard, her breathing coming hard and fast as she swallowed loudly.
“There, that’s better,” I cooed at her. I looked up at Dylan and caught him looking at the baby with absolute pride. It was a soft smile. A loving smile. A father’s smile. If I hadn’t known that he’d only had her for an hour, I would have believed that he saw this baby being born and loved her from that moment on.
“Position the bottle so it’s a little more upright,” I coached, moving his arm into a better placement. “That way she’ll suck in less air.”
The baby reached up, grabbing his hand as if she was afraid he might take the bottle away from her. Her hand was so tiny against his, and he smiled down at her again with that smile that had my ovaries singing. Really, any woman who even remotely liked the human race at all would have their ovaries exploding at the endearing way this man looked at the baby. It was irresistible on an evolutionary level, so I told myself I didn’t have to feel guilty about it at all.
“You’re a natural,” I told him, my voice low and soft. He lifted his eyes to meet mine and I realized how close we were. I was still touching his arm. He smelled really good. I felt my face go hot and took a step back. I hurried into the kitchen and found a towel hanging on the stove. It was just a dark blue towel, no football emblem on it, which surprised me. Wasn’t a football player supposed to have team gear everywhere in his house?
“Should we give her another?” he asked, lifting up the now empty bottle. It was only a few ounces so I wasn’t surprised she downed it so quickly.
“Let’s burp her first. If she wants more in a few minutes, we can give her more, but I’d rather not overwhelm her stomach,” I explained. I draped the towel over his very broad shoulder and he gave me a quizzical look. Being this close to him again had my heart speeding up. His clean soap scent was rather distracting. “Put her stomach on your shoulder and then gently pat her back. We’re going to burp her.”
He followed my instruction, moving carefully yet confidently. He checked in with me to make sure that the baby was in the right position on his shoulder before delicately tapping her.
“A little harder,” I coached, ignoring the dirty line of thought my brain and screaming ovaries wanted to go down. “We want to get the bubbles out of her.”
“She can’t do that on her own?” he asked, just as the baby burped. A little milk dribbled out onto the towel. He looked surprised. “I wondered what the towel was for.”
“Babies kind of suck at staying alive,” I replied, going over and using the towel to wipe her face. Her eyes were glazing, the milk hitting her stomach and soothing her. “We have to help them with everything. Eating, pooping, burping... they are a lot of work.”
He grunted, moving the baby off his shoulder. She immediately snuggled into him, her eyes slow blinking as she started to fall asleep. He smiled at her as her breathing became slow and even.
And then his smile disappeared.
“Why am I wet?” he asked.
“Because you got swim diapers,” I replied, doing everything in my power not to snicker or laugh. “Swim diapers are only good for keeping the solid stuff in. The liquid stuff goes right through them.”
“But they’re diapers!” he protested.
“That’s why you don’t swim in the baby pool,” I informed him.
He looked absolutely horrified and I couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.
After a moment, he relaxed, shaking his head.“Why would they do something so gross?”
I rooted around in the bags again until I found a package of diapers. Real ones with pictures of baby animals in yellow and green on the edges. “Here, I’ll help you change her. Have you ever done a diaper change before?”
“Oh, loads,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s part of what the team trains us on during the off-season.”
I frowned, wondering what the heck kind of training program these elite athletes had. Maybe it was some kind of weird hazing?“
“I’m just messing with you. I’ve never changed a baby before,” he told me with a chuckle.
With a grin, I showed him how to take off the onesie and wet blanket (which we tossed into the kitchen sink to deal with later) and to properly wipe her from front to back.
Despite his large hands and muscular frame, he was surprisingly gentle and delicate in his motions. He moved deliberately, watching my movements carefully before copying them as best he could. The diaper change was quick and easy, but now we had a naked baby. Despite it being summer, his apartment was just cool enough that I knew the baby wouldn’t be comfortable for long without something on.
Alex didn’t pick up any clothes on his shopping spree, so that would have to wait until tomorrow. Luckily, babies were pretty happy to be naked.
“We’ll need a blanket,” I replied, looking around the room. “One you don’t mind getting dirty.”
“Use the one on the couch.” He quickly walked over to the very fancy white leather couch and pulled off a gorgeous teal cashmere blanket. I assumed it was real cashmere because I didn’t have the money to own anything quite that nice.
“She’s going to ruin it,” I said, looking at the blanket and imagining all the stains the beautiful fabric would hold being wrapped around an infant.
“My interior decorator picked it,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t ever actually use it.”
“Okay...” Then I remembered that he played for the NFL and was rich enough that using a gorgeous cashmere blanket as a baby blanket wouldn’t dent his pocket book in the slightest. He could dress her in nothing but cashmere and wouldn’t ever worry about the bill.
So I wrapped her up in the blanket. She sighed, her eyelids fluttering for just a moment before she fell into a deeper sleep. It had been a busy day for her.
“That is not what we do!” A shout came from the bathroom. “Not cool, Goat! Not cool!”
“Should we go check on him?” I asked, afraid of what might be going on in that bathroom with the goat.
Dylan nodded, his face grave. “He will probably need medical attention.”
But we found him sitting on the edge of the bathtub, the goat’s head in his lap with her eyes closed and looking like it was the absolute best day of her life.
“Are you a goat whisperer?” Dylan asked, looking around the room. “She was a demon when I put her in here!”
“You just need to show her who is the boss,” Alex replied, crossing his arms and looking smug.
Three Skittles fell out of his pocket, and onto the floor. The goat quickly slurped them up and then put her head back on his lap.
“Or bribe her with Skittles.” Dylan shook his head at his assistant.
“Skittles work on everyone,” I agreed with a grin that faded quickly. “Except babies. Don’t give Skittles to babies. They can’t chew. It’s a choking hazard. She can’t have them until she’s eating real food and has actual teeth.”
Both men stared at me like I was a crazy person, but I couldn’t get the image of the two of them feeding the baby Skittles to keep her quiet from filling my mind.
“We know better than to give a baby candy,” Alex informed me. The two men’s eyes met and they both shook their head like I’d told them that the sky was blue. “We’re not complete idiots.”
I decided not to reply to that.
Instead, I let out a jaw-cracking yawn that shook my entire body. I’d forgotten for a few minutes that I had been up all night working my shift. It was way past my bedtime and all this excitement suddenly had me very tired.
“Okay, so feed her when she gets hungry. Change her diaper, wiping front to back. Put her in the box to sleep, not the bed, and not with any blankets other than the one swaddled around her,” I listed off. “I will be right down the hall if you need anything, but I have to go to bed before I fall over.”
Alex gave me a strange look. “Bed? It’s like nine in the morning.”
“She works nights,” Dylan answered for me, and I was slightly impressed he’d remembered.
“What if she gets cold?” he asked, keeping her tucked to him.
“Since she can’t move the blankets off her face, she can’t have them. We’d rather her be cold than not able to breathe,” I explained. “And that’s why the box as well. If she rolls over on the bed, she may not be able to get her face out of the pillow.”
“Oh. That’s why my aunt insisted nothing in the crib...” Alex remembered. “Makes sense.”
“You’ll also need a car seat if you want to take her anywhere.”
“Even I know that one,” Alex informed me.
“It’s a rest day,” Dylan added. “I was just going to watch film at home today, so I can hold her while I do that.”
I smiled softly. I had a feeling he wasn’t going to put that little girl down today.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a scrap of paper with three different sets of vitals scrawled across it along with a pen I’d stolen from the hospital. On it, I wrote my phone number and handed it to him.
“Here,” I said, trying very hard not to blush. I wished I had business cards as he inspected the scrap paper with a raised eyebrow. “Call me if you have any problems. I’ll keep the volume on high so it will wake me up.”
He grinned at me, sliding the paper into his pocket. “I guess that’s one way for me to get your number.”
I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Ah yes, the old ‘get a baby and a goat’ trick. Gets me every time.”