a span of sixty seconds, he had no idea, but he had to somehow steel himself against all of it. “She’s still critical, but stable. Everyone is cautiously optimistic that she can be taken off the vent soon.”
Making the coffee was a welcome distraction. He sent up a prayer about his sister’s recovery, and a second one along with it. Asking for his mother to get here soon, before he ended up doing something he’d regret. Like shouting at Bree about her unbelievable attitudes, or kissing her until they were both senseless the way he had on the hospital roof, or both.
“Cream and sugar with a little coffee,” he said as he pulled a mug from the cupboard, “though I still don’t get the point of drinking it that way.”
“It’s dessert with a little caffeine. Which is normal, though a guy who’s still trying to figure out a way to inject coffee straight into his veins wouldn’t understand that.”
She glanced up at him with a cute smile, then quickly down as he set her coffee in front of her on the table, making sure it wasn’t too close to the shimmer of hair covering half her face as she scribbled on the paper. Out of old habit, he nearly reached to tuck it behind her ear until he saw the stiffness of her shoulders, the wary look in her eyes as she glanced at him again with a deep crease between her brows.
Reminding him again—as if he should need any reminding—that things weren’t like they used to be. That they never would be. Which was okay. It was.
And if he said it often enough, maybe he’d eventually believe it.
He sat a safe distance across from her and concentrated on pulling up his schedule on his phone. “You already know I’m on call. Is it possible for you to stay here tonight, in case I have to go in? I know it’s a lot to ask of you. But I’m off tomorrow, starting in the morning.”
“That’ll work out, since I have to leave here at seven a.m.”
It struck him that she’d be in bed in his house, without him in it with her, and had a bad feeling that would result in a long, torturous night without enough sleep. He tried to distract himself from picturing her all warm and soft in his guest bed by writing down his work hours, until his nephew’s lungs and vocal cords went into action again. He and Bree lifted their heads at the exact same time, and something about the way they both froze at the sound, their eyes widening, seemed to strike them both as funny.
Bree laughed softly and shook her head. “Pretty pathetic that two educated adults are scared of a tiny infant. Babies have been showing up in people’s lives for millennia. We can handle this.”
“This from the woman who was about at her wit’s end not long ago, doing the Watusi in my kitchen to try to quiet him.”
“It wasn’t the Watusi. It was the hula with maybe a little Macarena thrown in.”
How he’d missed those amused, twinkling green eyes. Before he could get lost in them all over again, he shoved his chair back to check on Will and see what he could be upset about now. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll come with you. I need to learn what to do with him.”
“First day of Baby Care 101 for both of us. Problem is, the professor’s absent.”
Will’s tiny arms and legs were jerking around as Sean reached to pick him up. “Did you change his diaper?”
“Yes, but probably an hour ago. I fed him, too, though he spit some up. I don’t suppose the baby store, or the nurses in NICU, gave you a baby manual?”
He glanced at her, and swore she looked serious. “Baby manual? If there is such a thing, I want it. But I have a bad feeling that, right now, we’re on our own.” Her crestfallen expression made him grin in spite of everything. “I guess we’ll try those two things again, then take him outside if they don’t work.”
“Sounds like as good a plan as any I came up with,” she said with that rueful twist of her lips back in place.
“We’re both playing this by ear, Ms. Perfection, so stop expecting us to do this right until we learn how.”
“Your mom will be back before I’m even close to learning how.”
Probably true. And the sooner she got here, the better, with this strange awkwardness between him and Bree, bantering like old times one minute, then stiffening up, reminded of the bad way things had ended and how they didn’t much like each other anymore.
Or something like that.
He heaved a sigh, then laid Will on the changing table he’d bought, thankful he’d pretty much quit crying, for the moment at least. Maybe he’d just wanted attention. The baby gazed up at him, and his little round face made Sean smile, in spite of everything.
“Seems a little pointless to put clothes on newborns,” Bree said, tipping her head as she studied Will. “I mean, why not just keep them wrapped in a blanket or something? He’s kind of a little blob at the moment, with his legs wanting to curl up like he’s still inside Emma. Don’t you think it’s hard to get him dressed? And undressed then dressed again?”
“Yeah. But I can’t risk having my mother show up early to a naked baby. I’d never hear the end of it.” Bree’s laughing eyes met his before he wrestled the knit pants off and over Will’s tiny feet, opened the kid’s diaper to remove it, then grabbed a new one from the pile on the table. “No BM, but it is wet. Maybe that’s what was bothering him.”
“I’m impressed,” Bree said, and that twist of her lips mingled with a surprising admiration. Surprising because he sure didn’t deserve it. “No one would know you were new at this.”
“You always said I was a quick learner.”
“True. Though learning tennis seems a whole lot easier than this.”
“Only when you’re a superstar, like you. I had to take those damned private lessons for weeks before I could regularly get the ball back across the net to you.”
“You took lessons? Other than from me?” Her wide-eyed stare had him cursing himself for making that little confession. She was so good at everything she did, he hadn’t wanted to look inept, even though she’d known he’d been a beginner. The first time she’d offered to teach him, his competitive nature had kicked in—probably his ego, too—and now she knew he wasn’t just naturally gifted at whacking a ball across a net.
“Maybe a lesson or two.” He turned back to the diapering, frowning a little as he tried to figure out the sticky tabs, because they didn’t seem to be working right.
“Um, I take back what I said.” She pointed at the stack of diapers. “I think the picture on the diaper is supposed to be in the front, not the back.”
He had to laugh. That should have been obvious, but he blamed the distraction of Bree being so close, and that admiring look on her face that had made his chest stupidly puff up a little, though she was sure as heck grinning at him now instead. The admiring look that had made him feel like Superman when they’d been together.
He slid the diaper from under the baby’s bottom to try again, leaning over to study the sticky tabs, only to be startled by a stinging spray right into his eye. “Yikes!” he yelped, yanking his head back from the stream of urine now hitting his chest as Bree’s laughter filled the room. “Can you please help instead of cracking up at my expense?”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped in the middle of another peal of laughter, though at least she grabbed a towel from the rack and began to wipe his face. “But that was about the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time. Are we keeping score? Because right now, I think it’s Will five, and you and me zero.”
“Yeah. And we have to turn that around.” He managed to get the diaper closed and secured as Bree moved the towel down to wipe at his shirt. The feel of her massaging his chest, and never mind that her touch was brisk and not at all sensual, made him breathe a little harder. He grabbed the towel from her, deciding he’d better get his shirt changed