Chapter 1 #2
“Bring him with. We normally say no kids, but I get it. He’s brand new with you. It’s tough to leave them the first time.”
“I don’t know about crashing a guys’ night with a six-month-old.”
“It’s not crashing. We were all recently single dads. Hell, Knox went through something similar to you, where he didn’t know he was a father and, bam, he had a kid.”
“True,” I said noncommittally. I didn’t know what tomorrow had in store for me, let alone the next week.
“You’re going to have challenges come up. Odds are at least one of us has been through it before. Bring your son and at least stop by for a few minutes. I’m betting you’ll be more than ready to get out of the house.”
I liked Chance and knew the guys in the group—besides him and Knox were Max, West, Ben, and Luke. I liked them all. Just never had cause to join them until now.
“If you help me figure out which version of formula to buy, I’ll stop by next Saturday, assuming I can get our act together.”
“That’s fair.”
I shifted Oliver to my other arm as Chance and I turned our attention to the multitude of options for my son who couldn’t tell me what he needed. Chance asked me several questions I didn’t have the answers to. Then we settled on the same variation his baby girl took.
“If it turns out you need something different, I’ll buy this jug off you,” Chance said. “We go through it fast.”
As I glanced at the price tag on the shelf, I widened my eyes, wondering if I was seeing that right. “How long will this last?”
“We go through about one a week, but our girl eats like a little piglet.”
My brows shot up. “How do people afford kids?”
“Right? Does he eat solids yet?”
“Cereal. Guess I better get that too, huh?” I glanced down the aisle with no idea what I was looking for.
“Come on.” Chance headed toward the opposite end. “I got you.”
A few minutes later, I’d added two containers of cereal to my basket. Oliver’s good nature and patience with grocery shopping ran out, and he started low-key fussing.
“Better get him home and fed,” Chance said warmly. “We’ll see you next Saturday if not before.”
“Thanks for the help, man.”
I hurried to Darlene’s checkout lane and got behind Maeve and some woman I didn’t know. After setting the basket on the floor, I shifted Oliver, trying to make him more comfortable. His fussing cranked up a notch, taking my stress level with it. I had exactly no experience calming my son.
As Maeve walked off, waving with a sympathetic smile, we moved up in the line, with me scooting the basket forward a few inches with my foot.
“Little dude,” I said quietly. I held him up so we were nose to nose. The change of scenery silenced him…for all of three seconds. Then he screwed up his face and let out a next-level wail.
The woman in front of me turned and shot me an irritated look, as if Oliver was crying just to ruin her day.
“Sugar plum, are you all tuckered out and ready for your dinner?” Darlene said to my son in a baby voice as she handed the woman her receipt. “Let’s get your daddy checked out stat.”
I smiled gratefully as I set the basket on the conveyor, then dug for my wallet. By the time the transaction was done, Oliver was raising holy hell. I stuffed my wallet back in my pocket.
“Joey will help you out,” Darlene announced as the bag boy approached.
“I can get it,” I said like I always did.
“Let Joey help you out, Kemp,” the cashier said in a don’t-argue tone. “You get the baby. He’ll get the groceries.”
“Yes, ma’am.” It’d take longer to argue with her. “How are you doing, Joey?” I said loudly to be heard over Oliver as the clerk followed me out of the store.
I was pretty sure he answered, but I couldn’t hear it, not with my son’s level-ten crying. He had some lungs on him. Maybe he’d be a swimmer or a long-distance runner.
I clicked the fob to unlock the doors and raise the back hatch.
As I wrestled to get Oliver’s arms through the car-seat straps, I acknowledged Darlene had been right.
I had all I could handle right here in this seventeen-pound bundle of mad.
I was glad Joey took care of the bags. The kid disappeared before I could get my son buckled in and the door closed. His ears probably needed a break.
“You just need your dinner, don’t you, tiger?”
By the time I got him secured and climbed in the front seat, my nerves were shot. I hadn’t slept well for days. My stress level had been at five-alarm level more often than not since receiving word of his mother’s fatal accident and, oh, my son’s existence.
I loved this little boy with everything, but his cry was piercing and put me on the sharpest edge right now. I’d heard it during my visits at his grandparents’ house in the past week, but it seemed ten times louder when it was up to me to fix his problems.
According to the clock on the dash, we were over an hour late for his usual evening feeding time. “Aw, damn,” I said quietly. No wonder he’s screaming. “We’ll be home in five,” I told him, even though he couldn’t hear a thing over his cries.
The drive took closer to three minutes, but that was long enough for me to question how in the hell I was ever going to handle this new role. I was less than two hours in, and I felt more frazzled than I did after fighting a large structure fire for ten hours straight.
I pulled onto my street, my muscles tensed against the noise and the doubt gushing through me like a flash flood.
Then I saw the familiar car parked on one side of my driveway.
As I put my SUV into Park, I smiled in spite of everything, never so glad to see Anna climb out of her car and walk toward me, pretty as always, her caramel hair pulled up on her head, her familiar grin easing my stress slightly.
I got out, shut the door, and pulled Anna in for a hug.
“Hey, brand-new dad,” she said. “Has he been crying for long?”
“Since we got to Darlene’s lane at the market,” I said into her hair. It smelled of her usual berries and sugar.
When a normal hug would’ve ended, I held on to her, letting her calmness and caring seep into me.
“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.
I didn’t bother putting on a front. Not with Anna. I shook my head.
“Hey, we’ll figure this out,” she said. “We’ll get him calmed down, fed, and to sleep. Then you can catch your breath.”
I nodded, then ended the hug before it got too awkward. “Are you coming inside?”
“Of course,” she said as if I was stupid.
I was so overcome with relief that I couldn’t speak, so I merely nodded, then turned to get my wailing son out of the backseat.