Miles Ever After (Miles High Series)(27)

“Fucking unbelievable,” I mutter under my breath. “Now I’m going to need a whole new bag.”

“What for?”

“Clothes for the baby, Patrick. What bag will we use?”

Patrick thinks for a moment and shrugs.

I march out into the hallway and call down the stairs. “Claire, what bag will I pack clothes for the baby in?”

Silence….

“Claire?”

“The nappy bag, Tristan,” she replies deadpan.

“Ahh….” I nod. “But don’t we need that for the nappies?”

“You’re killing me,” she calls back.

I’ll fucking kill you in a minute.

I march back to the bedroom. “Your mother said use the nappy bag.”

“But isn’t that for nappies?” Patrick frowns.

“That’s exactly what I said.” I walk into the baby’s room and look around for Patrick. “Well, are you coming?”

“Yes.” Patrick sighs as he saunters in and sits on the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

“Oh, am I inconveniencing you?” I huff.

He lies back and kicks his legs up over the arm of the chair.

“I’ll have you know, Patrick, that you have a baby brother or sister arriving tomorrow and it is our job to make sure it has clothes to wear.”

He looks at me deadpan.

“Because your mother obviously doesn’t care.”

“I heard that,” Claire calls from our bedroom.

“Stop eavesdropping on our conversations,” I call back.

“Okay.” I open the wardrobe doors; sweet little baby clothes are all hanging up on tiny, cute hangers, and a rush of excitement runs through me.

Tomorrow.

“Okay.” I open a drawer. “What should we pack?” I pull out a singlet, it’s teeny tiny and about thirty centimeters long, I glance back over my shoulder to Patrick. “Does your mother think we are having a snake?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know much, do you?”

He shrugs again.

I grab a pile of snake singlets and put them onto the change table. “Nappies.”

I tap my temple. “Aha, for the nappy bag.” I grab a pile of nappies and put them on the change table.

“Going-out clothes,” Patrick says.

“Hmm.” I look around the wardrobe. “What does a baby class as going-out clothes?”

Patrick shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Fuck’s sake.

I march back into my bedroom to see Claire lying on the bed with her eyes closed, she looks so peaceful but we have shit to do, there is absolutely no time for sleeping. “Claire.” I tap her on the foot. “Claire.”

“What, Tristan?” She sighs as if I am the biggest inconvenience in the world.

This is inconvenient to me too, you know?

“How many outfits should I pack for the baby?”

She opens one eye to look at me. “What do you mean, outfits?”

“Outfits, clothes.” I widen my eyes; how does she not know what that means?

“The baby doesn’t wear outfits, Tris.”

“What do you mean?”

“It will wear onesies.”

“What?” I screw up my face. “All the time?”

“They are comfortable.” She closes her eyes again. “I was just going to throw a bag together tonight, don’t stress about it. If I need anything while we are at the hospital you can just bring it up.”

“Oh.” I stare at her for a moment, I feel so dumb at all of this.

She taps the bed beside her. “Right now I need a hug from my husband.”

I lie down beside her and she takes me into her arms and kisses my forehead. “You’re very cute packing the bags. Thank you.”

I roll my eyes.

Cute.

“You’re going to be the best dad.” She smiles with her eyes closed. “This baby is so lucky.” She runs her fingers through my hair as I mentally go through what else I need to do today.

“Are you having an affair with a snake?” I ask.

“What?” Her eyes open in surprise.

“The singlets you bought are not human, they’re for a baby snake.”

She bursts out laughing. “They are long so you can tuck them in, you idiot.”

“Oh.” I smirk. “That makes more sense.”

“What are you doing?” Patrick calls. “Muffy, no.”

“What’s happening in there?” I yell.

“Muff is sitting in the nappy bag.”

I fly out of bed like a maniac. “If that cat pisses in the nappy bag it is genuinely meeting its maker.”





I change into the robe and put the hairnet on. I put the medical booties on over my shoes and wash my hands.

I’m sick with nerves.

Claire is being prepped for surgery. Because she has had what they call three unsuccessful natural births in the past she is having a scheduled C-section.

“Are you ready, Mr. Miles?” the nurse asks me.

“Yes.”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump goes my heart.