“We’ll be fine.” I grab her wrist and pull her to me for a kiss. “So will you.”
She takes a deep breath. “Thank you. I’m nervous.”
“Go kill it. We’ve got it here.” I take Indie’s hand. “Don’t we?”
Rylee smiles as she looks between us. “That’s a good look for you.”
“And that is a good look for you,” I say. Her hair is down and curled. Her normal jeans and T-shirt have been replaced with black pants and a white button-down. She has on those sexy glasses and a touch more makeup than normal, I think. She looks sexy and smart.
She leans forward and kisses Indie. “Bye. Call if you need me.”
She’s still slow to leave, watching us as she opens the door and steps out.
When she’s finally gone, I look at my daughter. “Looks like it’s just us. What should we do first?”
I set her down and she walks to the bookshelf in the living room.
“You are your mother’s daughter,” I say, sprawling out to sit on the floor. I take up a good portion of it with my long legs. Indie hands me three books and then sits on my lap.
She babbles as I read. Some of the books are pretty entertaining and soon I realize I’ve read nine books instead of the three I intended.
“How about a bath?”
The b word turns out to be the word that sets off an hour-long struggle to get my daughter clean and in bed. All week she’s effortlessly gone into the bathroom for her bath. I’ve seen her play in the bubbles and squeal with delight. I know the kid likes baths, but tonight it’s as if I’m torturing her. She thrashes and climbs out every time I place her in the tub.
“Just have to get clean, sweet pea.” I’m also trying every form of endearment I know in hopes it’s the magic password that unlocks the sweet child I know is in there. Sweet pea isn’t it.
I get soap in her eye trying to quickly wash her, which obviously doesn’t help.
The bathroom is soaked, so am I, by the time I get her to her room. She’s good and worked up now. I forego the pajamas but manage to get her in a diaper and rub some of the nighttime soothing lotion Rylee always puts on her before bed.
She’s really wailing now. I refuse to call Rylee for help. I’ve got this. Probably.
There’s absolutely no getting Indie into her crib. My heart breaks as she sobs into my shoulder. I pace and pat her back. I pull out my phone and bring up a picture of Rylee and Indie I took at The White House in the gym. Indie clutches onto the device and her sobs get a little quieter. She’s got herself so upset she’s hiccupping too.
“Mommy will be home soon, sweetheart.” My voice mixed with the photo seems to be helping so I keep reassuring her as I pace.
Sweet little Indie is heavy. Forget lifting weights, this is the best workout I’ve had in a long while. My arms ache from holding up her limp body.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize to my daughter. “I’m not as good at any of it as mommy is, but I’m trying. We’ll be okay, right?”
She’s quiet. I pull the phone from her hands, but I’m too afraid to move her to check to see if she’s sleeping. I creep to the couch and slowly lower us onto it. It takes some weight off my arms and I let out a long breath. Man, if this kid isn’t tired by now, there’s no hope. I’m exhausted.
My arms are spent. I lay down with her on my chest and pull a blanket over the top of her. Her droopy eyes flutter open and then close. I shut mine. Maybe if I pretend to sleep, she’ll take the hint.
That’s my last thought. The next thing I know Rylee is standing over me with Indie in her arms, talking to her in a hushed tone.
“Hey,” she says to me. I sit up and run a hand over my hair. My T-shirt clings to my body with sweat where Indie slept on top of me.
She disappears toward Indie’s bedroom and I stand and stretch. I check the time surprised it’s only ten. Man, no wonder Rylee struggles to get shit done. Three hours and I’m toast. And we probably slept one of those hours.
When she returns, she’s barefoot and her hair is pulled up into a ponytail. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” My voice is deep from sleep. “Is she okay? I might have just traumatized our child with my subpar bedtime skills.”
“She’s fine. Did she give you a rough time?”
“Everything was going great until I started getting her ready for bed. I am not as good at this as you.” I rub at my chest. “Fuck, I’m exhausted. I have a new appreciation for what you’ve been managing on your own.”
“She likes routine. She’ll get used to you putting her to bed if you do it more.”
I might have to psych myself up for that, but I don’t admit that out loud. “How’d pitching go?”
“Good. I think.” She takes a seat on the couch next to me and pulls her feet up under her. “The first couple of times I did it, I was really nervous, but it got easier.”
“What were you pitching?”
“It’s this young adult fantasy novel I’ve been working on for like three years. I’ve rewritten the first twenty pages so many times.” She shakes her head.
“Fantasy, huh?”
“Mermaids and underwater adventures. An evil king and a swoony prince trying to redeem the family name.”
“Sounds awesome.”
“Yeah, well. It can only be awesome if I actually write it. Otherwise, it’s just a really great idea. The world is full of those.”
“Can I read what you have?”
“What if you hate it?”
“That seems unlikely.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Did you have any professors interested in working on it with you?”
“A few seemed interested. They might have been faking or had others that they felt were a better match. I won’t know until the Halloween party.”
“Is it a costume party?”
“Oh yeah. The more elaborate, the better.” Her chin tucks and her eyes fall to her lap. “I’m not sure I’ll go.”
“Why the hell not?”
“For starters, I don’t have anyone to watch Indie. You have a game. Lindsey has other plans, I’m sure. Besides. I’m not sure it’s a great idea to take on another project this semester. As I was talking to some of the professors, I realized just how much extra work this could be.”
“I can help more.”
She meets my gaze and smiles sadly. “I know you want to, but your schedule is as crazy as mine.”
“We’ll figure it out.” I take her hands in mine and squeeze.
She climbs into my lap and kisses me. “I still need to do some reading tonight.”
I slide my hands around her waist and pull her shirt out from the waistband of her pants so I can get my hands on her bare skin. “Guess I’ll have to be quick.”
Which is never a problem with Rylee. Every time I touch her, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. She helps me get her out of her clothes and I lie her down on the couch. Hurriedly I strip myself and cover my dick with a condom.
“One of these days I want to spend hours worshipping you.”
She pulls me down on top of her and her lips take mine, greedy and demanding. So fucking sexy.