Fireball (Cheap Thrills #1)(13)

It didn’t feel right to refer to the baby as ‘it’ to its mother, so I kept my greeting neutral. “Congratulations, Ms. Harrison.”

“Hey, Sheriff.” Jose looked exhausted. I wasn’t an expert at giving birth, but I figured if I’d had to do what she had, I’d be out cold. Or crying and holding my crotch.

She’d only given me a quick look and had then returned to looking down at the baby, and I watched her expression soften from exhaustion to love. “I can’t believe I’m holding her finally. In some ways, it feels like I carried her inside me for years, and in others it feels like I only found out yesterday that she existed.”

Clearing my throat, I crossed my arms over my chest and rocked back on my heels. I was a man, and men didn’t typically know what to say at moments like this because we were too busy wondering if the mother was going to cut our dicks off because of what they’d just gone through. I didn’t have that worry because I hadn’t been the other person who’d made the baby with her – and apparently that asshole Larry wasn’t worried about it seeing as how he wasn’t here – but still. What if she projected the dick chopping from him onto me?

“Uh,” I tried to figure out what to say. Sure, you could say that nothing needed to be said, or that it wasn’t my place, but she’d just divulged something deep and I didn’t want to be the asshole that ignored the poignancy of it. “I guess you did carry her inside you for years. I mean, biology aside, who’s to say that you weren’t carrying her inside you just waiting for the perfect moment for her to exist. Ya know?”

Fuck, I hoped that was a good thing to say.

Her head lifted up, and she looked back at me in awe. “I kinda like that, Sheriff. In fact, I love thinking about it like that.”

Rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly, I nodded and looked around the room frowning. “Glad I could be of service,” I muttered absent-mindedly. “And call me Dave.”

“Not David?” I could hear the humor in her voice when she asked the question, but I was still distracted.

Spinning around, I walked over to the door and poked my head out to look down the hallway. When I didn’t see what I was looking for, I turned back to her. “Friends call me Dave, or DB. Either one’s fine.”

“But we’re not friends, are we? In fact, until today I don’t think I’ve ever even had a reason to talk to you.” She looked like she was fighting not to burst out laughing, making me narrow my eyes at her and getting an innocent look in return.

Uh huh, she knew what she was doing. And being the gentleman I was, one who was relieved to see her smiling and holding her perfectly healthy precious baby girl after everything she’d been through with her ex, I didn’t bring up her recent interactions with my men.

“Well, consider us friends now, and call me Dave.” Crossing my arms over my chest again, I raised an eyebrow and waited for her to get to where we both knew she was headed.

It didn’t take her long at all.

“Hmm, friends with the sheriff,” she hummed to her daughter like she was discussing it with her. “Now, would that be because he wants to do the dirty with your aunt Tabby? What do you think? You do?” I rolled my eyes as she carried on like the baby was actually talking to her. “I think so too. The nice Sheriff wants to check your auntie’s oil, yes he does.”

I’m pretty certain the last time I blushed was when I sneezed and farted when I interviewed a witness right after I joined the police, but a woman telling her hour old daughter what I wanted to do to her aunt apparently made that happen.

“I’m not entirely certain you’re meant to tell baby's things like that like it’s a fairytale,” I pointed out, looking back toward the door and praying for someone to come and help me out.

“Well, we could call it completing the jigsaw puzzle. Or dinky tickling. What about doing the dipsy doodle? Or my favorite of all – humpy-squirty.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. “Jesus, will you stop? She’s gonna think fairytales are made about…” I waved my hand in the air trying to say a word that wasn’t fuck or sex.

“Paddling up the coochie creek?” she supplied unhelpfully.

Sighing, I scrubbed my face with my hands. If I made my entire face red, maybe no one would be able to tell that this woman’s narrative of alternative terms for the birds and the bees to her baby had made me want to crawl inside my own ass hole and hide.

“You here to find out where my sister is,” she stated not beating around the bush and pulling me back out of hiding.

“Actually, I came to see how you were getting on and if you needed anything, and to see Tabby.”

All the happiness fell from her face. “I’ve only known Tabitha for five months,” she started. “But within minutes of talking to her that first time, I knew she was someone so special that you’re lucky if you get to meet just one in your lifetime. It was an instant connection like we’d known each other our whole lives.” She broke off and adjusted the baby who was moving its legs. “There’s a lot more to her than people think. The main point here is that she loves deeply, but she hurts deeply too.” This time when she lifted her head, it was to make direct eye contact with me as she dealt her ball crushing blow. “The hormones from giving birth are running through me like a tornado, Dave. So if you hurt her, I won’t have any control over the ass kicking I’ll give you in return.”