Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-five
ISAIAH
“Make sure she’s snapped in good and tight,” Gatlin says about the bouncy seat I’ve just placed Aria in.
We’re in the bedroom of my suite. I buckle both sides, feeling a little weird when I tuck my finger between the fabric and the baby’s belly, making sure the belt isn’t too snug.
Monty threw our luggage back into the trunk on New Year’s morning. I packed the bare necessities for a baby. Some clothes. What I thought were enough diapers because they fit in a diaper bag. A can of formula that won’t last many more feedings.
I keep trying to tell myself that if I think of taking care of Aria as a role, like when a director tells me how to act for a music video, it will come naturally. But the God’s honest truth is I’m out of my element and it shows.
Bellamy asked how it was going, and when I told the truth she suggested Gatlin bring over a hodgepodge of items Chesney outgrew.
I’m glad I can now put Aria down somewhere, so she’s not lying on her back. Overnight I watched her with an eagle eye, freaked out that she’d choke. She spit up again after her morning bottle, which proves men can chug a beer and their outrageous burp is just a burp, but you best be prepared when someone pint-sized belches that loud. The liner to the infant carrier is in the wash with another outfit. So Aria’s down to her skivvies.
I cover the baby’s skinny legs with a hand towel. Her blanket? That’s on the spin cycle, too. Aria squeals as the seat rocks up and down, shooting a toothless grin at Chesney—who is jumping on the bed—and kicks the towel off.
“I appreciate you lending us everything.” I thank Gatlin, pulling the makeshift blanket back up to make sure Aria’s warm enough. Three seconds later, it is on the floor at her feet next to her socks.
I give up. What do babies have against socks?
Was I supposed to buy her shoes? Chesney wears shoes, but she can walk.
No sooner do I think it does the toddler land on her butt and start ripping at the velcro closure on her sneakers
“Hot!” Chesney exclaims, gifting everything on her feet to her dad.
Gatlin shoves the socks into his back pocket and loops his fingers inside the shoes. Then he taps the thermostat on the wall, nudging the temperature from sauna to spring day.
“Belle stuffed a few extra footed sleepers in a bag if you’re worried about Aria’s toes getting cold,” he says.
I use my arm to wipe sweat from my brow, and thank him for taking pity on me for everything I don’t know.
It’s a lot. When I ordered a case of diapers to be delivered, I chastised myself for not understanding how much they cost. All I’ve been doing for this kid is blindly paying the bills.
“So, are you all set?” Gatlin grabs his daughter under the pits, hefting her onto his hip.
Nope, don’t leave. The thought hits me like a ton of bricks. I actually have someone in the room with experience. “Uh, yeah.” I brush my sweaty palms against my thighs. “Yeah.”
“Sweet. Our hiatus is ending. Bellamy was recording promos while we were out. But it’s close to n-a-p time and if we’re lucky—”
Chesney squishes his cheeks into a duckface. “No naps.”
Gatlin denies saying anything of the sort to her, but holds up a few fingers to me and whispers, “three minutes in the car. She’ll be out like a light before I brake for the first stoplight.”
I nod, tucking the useful info into my back pocket for later. “I heard you guys were in the running for that live morning talk show that’s been on the air for decades.”
“Don’t believe it. Belle’s and my agent say we’re not real contenders unless we’re willing to move to New York City. The timing isn’t great. Belle’s settled in here. We built the new house. She’s forging a relationship with her father. I’d have her pregnant tomorrow, and she feels like just moving the radio show to Nashville is too far away from our family for that. I can’t imagine moving to New York.”
“There’s something about this place, isn’t there?” I remark in a “why didn’t anyone tell me?” tone.
“It’s home… You know, I didn’t see becoming a father as anything in my future. I dunno, my distant future, maybe?” Gatlin shrugs. “Tennessee. New York. Perhaps that’s what the future holds. But where Ches is so loved by everyone, I couldn’t imagine taking her away from her grandparents or for another baby of ours not getting to experience what she has.”
Well shit, doesn’t that resonate? Giving a piece of what Chesney has to Aria is why I brought her back to Kingsbrier with me. Because deep down, I need those connections, too. And we definitely weren’t getting them holed up in my house.
Gatlin hedges his way around the bags he brought over. In the hallway, he looks at his cousin’s closed door.
I prop the door of the suite open using my foot. I need to keep one eye on Aria. At the rate she’s wiggling, I’m afraid the bouncer will flip over.
“You staying in this room alone?” Gatlin’s brow lifts.
“With her.” I point back inside at the baby.
“Probably for the best.”
I’m certain Gatlin’s heard Cassidy isn’t my biggest fan right now. Though, other than the new-dad support, he hasn’t treated me any differently than he has since the mid-December interview.
“Can I give you some advice?”
“If it wasn’t obvious, I can use all the help I can get.” I scoff with a self-deprecating smile.
It never ceases to amaze me the first person I went to for input on how to win Cassidy back is a guy the rumor mill pegged as never settling down. I guess it goes to show people change. Or the gossip columnists don’t have a fucking clue.
With a sleepy Chesney laying her head on his chest, Gatlin returns the grin. “Be patient, my friend.”
Not long after he departs, Aria exhausts herself and falls asleep. As gently as I can, I scoot the bouncy seat to the threshold of the Jack and Jill bathroom and close the connecting door to the sitting area. Then I turn my back to her, shimmying out of my jeans and tee. I’m fucking squeamish that she’ll wake, see my hairy ass, and need more therapy. Aria’s shrink is bound to cost a boatload. I need to find an investment advisor and start a goddamned fund.
Out of propriety, I climb in the tub and stand to the side with my balls shriveling, waiting for the water to get warm. Hunching over and carrying Aria around has done a number on my sore back. When it’s hot, the water pressure is heaven on my weary muscles.
I soap up, and I pull the curtain to the side to make sure she’s safe. Aria hasn’t moved a muscle. I forget the shampoo and close my eyes, letting the shower pelt me like rain. I think I even catch a few winks because I startle and peek again.
Worrying that the baby should have stretched in her sleep has me snatching a towel from the rack to dry off with. I wrap it around my waist before sliding the curtain to the side.
Wouldn’t you know, Aria’s slung an arm over her head and is sucking on the finger of her opposite hand. If she catches twenty more winks, I get time to grab my razor and lather up. Shaving has become the bottommost priority on my list. I have to hop over her to get to my suitcase. I’m rifling through for a fresh pair of jeans when I hear a soft knock.
I crack the door to see Cassidy wringing her hands. Her breasts fall as she lets out a breath and my jerk-o-meter gauge flies to the red zone. She must’ve worked up the courage to come to my room and I’m wearing a low-slung towel, staring at her tits.
“Hi. I need to know what you’d like me to prepare for lunch and see if your, um, team? Whatever they’re called, had any allergies or food aversions for when I prepare the hors devours.”
“I told Gracyn we’d fend for ourselves.” Shocked she didn’t get the message, I open the door all the way and lean on the handle.
Cassidy’s eyes rake over my bare chest. My pulse pounds. Why does it feel like more than a few days since I could grab her and kiss her? How much patience do I have? I won’t give up on Cassidy. But I miss our rapport and how easy it was to make her genuinely smile.
She clears her throat. “My vacation is over, and you’re paying to stay here. What else am I supposed to do, if not my job?”
“Don’t go out of your way. It’s us, Monty, and Vespa to start.”
I have more security lined up for when I can’t be here. I also expect my management team to come and go. Don’t ask me how that will work while hiding a baby. My focus is convincing Cassidy I’m not a low down heel for abandoning Aria.
I know I’ve hit a nerve when Cassidy frowns as if I’ve told her she’s not good enough to do her job. The thing is, trying to win her affections doesn’t mix well with asking her to wait on me hand and foot. However, I can’t allow Cassidy to believe she’s not a good enough chef. Not when she confided about losing a job that meant so much to her.
“Nobody has allergies.” I try to fix my faux pas. “I like eggs in the morning. Any kind. No particular time for breakfast. I’ll reheat whatever gets cold in the microwave. Ask Monty what he wants for lunch and make me the same until the band gets here. Then we can discuss meals. Most everyone’s booked rooms in town, but I’d like to treat them to fried chicken and your coleslaw and biscuits the afternoon they arrive. I also hired a couple of Kylie’s people from her last tour,” I say, so Cassidy doesn’t steer clear of my late-wife’s name.
“That’s nice of you. I’m sure people miss Kylie.” Cassidy looks wistfully at Aria.
“Yeah, uh, Monty was actually on Kylie’s security team for a few years. Funny story, actually...” I scrub a paw over the three-day scruff on my chin. “Monty named her.”
“Aria?” Cassidy’s brows knit together. “Why didn’t you?”
“She’s not mine,” I repeat.
It’s not that Kylie is Aria’s mother that makes me uncomfortable. It’s that I’m not her father.
Doesn’t that take the cake? There are two females currently in my life, tearing my heart to shreds, and neither belongs to me.
Cassidy steps back, and I move into the hallway. It doesn’t seem fair to Aria to speak poorly of a mother she’ll never grow to know, but Cassidy’s made herself scarce. She hasn’t given me the chance to explain.
“My wife had an affair.” I blurt to stop her from high-tailing it to the kitchen.
I haven’t said those actual words since on the surface the unspoken is obvious.
Cassidy’s face falls and I wish I’d had better timing.
Sensing the tension, Aria begins wailing. I look back into the suite. Shit. I understand one of them is a priority over the other. But I can’t palate having to choose. There has to be a better way to split my attention.
“I’m sorry, Isaiah. I just wanted an idea of what food to serve. I’ll come back later.”
Except Cassidy never does.