The Anti-Boyfriend(19)

Score one: Deacon.

Trying to remember the steps Carys had shown me, I changed Sunny into a fresh diaper as fast as possible.

Returning to the main room, I looked at the clock. Jesus. Was it only ten thirty?

It felt like eleventy-hundred years at this point.

At eleven, I gave her the sweet potatoes and peas, then followed it up with formula as instructed—all while holding her in my arms so she wouldn’t freak out.

The formula went down smoothly. Carys hadn’t specified whether to burp her, but it made sense to try. After a moment I was damn glad I had because a belch the size of Gibraltar came out.

A text from Carys came in right around 11:30.



Carys: How is everything going?



I laughed out loud. Could you imagine if I were honest?



Sunny won’t let me put her down, so my arm is numb, and I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to wipe my own ass later when the time comes. How do you do this every day, Carys? HOW DO YOU DO IT?



I responded using voice-to-text since holding Sunny made it a difficult to type.



Deacon: Everything’s perfect. Been following your schedule. She just had her lunch and formula.



Carys: Awesome! I owe you huge for this.



Deacon: How’s the first day of training?



Carys: It’s going great. I’m so glad I was able to make it. I have a lot to learn. But I’m feeling optimistic that I can handle it.



Deacon: Well, keep slaying. I’ve got everything under control here.



Carys: Thank you again!!!



Deacon: Anytime.



I turned to the baby. “Don’t make an even bigger liar out of me, Sunny. Okay? We’re gonna turn this around before she gets home.”

Returning to the couch, I counted the minutes until naptime at noon, still having no clue how I was supposed to get her to stay in that crib without screaming her head off.

When Sunny smiled up at me this time, I squinted. “What’s that for? You enjoyin’ watching me sweat? I’m not cut out for this, you know. Between you and me, I have no business playing Mrs. Doubtfire today. No offense, but I don’t want kids.” I leaned in and spoke in her ear, “But…I guess I can see why some people do. Your mama’s lucky to have such a sweet baby.”

I made the mistake of placing Sunny on my chest while I lay back and turned on the TV. Within a few minutes, she’d fallen asleep there, and I was now afraid to move.

I wondered if there was any chance in hell that I could transport her to the crib. Movement of any kind was a risk. But I really needed to use the bathroom.

Lifting myself off the couch, I walked as slowly as I could to her bedroom. I’d never moved so carefully in my life as I placed her down on her back. It was like a miracle when she didn’t stir. She stayed sleeping, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

I tiptoed out of there, and the first thing I did when I got back to the living room? I danced. I fucking danced—fists pumping, hips swaying. And I had to laugh at myself a little. I was a grown man dancing outside a baby’s room because it felt like the first time I could breathe since 8AM.

But Carys did this every damn day. Over and over. I’d put in a few hours and thought I deserved some kind of award. I was pathetic for thinking it was some magical feat that I’d managed to get a baby down for a nap. But I didn’t care. I silently danced my ass off anyway.

In record time, I did everything I could while Sunny was napping. I used the bathroom. I kicked my feet up on the couch and ate beef jerky. I caught up on my emails. I’d never moved so fast in my life, because I had no clue how much time I had before my freedom ended.

My phone chimed, and I’d never wanted to murder a device so much in my life. I immediately put it on vibrate.

A text had come in.



Katy: You up for a quickie lunch date?



Of course I knew lunch wasn’t what she was looking for. Katy was a girl I’d stopped seeing a few months back. It surprised me that “lunch” was still something she was interested in, considering I hadn’t called her.

The thought of a quickie lunch date at this particular moment was comical. Sure, come on over. But if you make a sound, I’ll have to kill you.



Deacon: Can’t. My day’s all tied up.



Katy: Maybe next time then.



Deacon: Sorry. Yeah.



Sunny slept for almost three hours that afternoon. I got to decompress, work on a new design concept for my job, and tackle some emails. I considered myself very lucky—until she woke up.





CHAPTER 6





Carys



MORE IN COMMON THAN YOU KNOW




The sound of running water immediately registered when I walked in the door. Cynthia had sent me home at 2:30 with a bunch of information to review. I was thrilled that I’d be able to relieve Deacon a bit early.

“Deacon?” I yelled.

“In here!” I heard him holler.

Oh no. This isn’t good.

When I got to the bathroom, I said, “I would ask what happened, but I know what happened.”

Deacon held Sunny stiffly away from his body as the tub filled. She had poop all the way up her back.