Chapter 18
I cuddle Sebastian The Pooh close to my chest and use my free hand to bring the bottle to his lips. But instead of latching onto the silicone nipple, he just throws his head back and wails harder.
“Shhh, baby, shhhh,” I say, flinching at the desperation in my tone. I bounce both legs trying to establish a soothing motion. That should help him go to sleep. At least that’s what the mother in the YouTube video playing on my computer promised.
But it doesn’t seem to be working. The baby is red and squirmy in my arms as he continues to bawl so hard that I’m scared his little lungs might collapse.
How the hell does Gracie do this every single day?
When I’d volunteered to babysit my nephew so his parents could attend a couples’ counseling session, I’d had no idea what I’d signed up for. I mean how hard could it be? The baby cries, you feed him, you love him, then he falls asleep.
Right?
Wrong.
I glance at the clock on the corner of my computer screen. Daniel texted me two hours ago to ask if I could watch the baby for just a little while longer so that he and Gracie could go to dinner. I’d agreed. Things had been going reasonably well at that point. Sebastian had still been sleeping soundly, as he had been when his parents dropped him off. But then…he woke up…with a vengeance. The poor little thing has been crying for nearly 45 minutes with no signs of relenting.
Just above the sound of Sebastian’s wails, I hear the chime of the doorbell.
Relief washes over me. “Thank god,” I mumble into the baby’s ear. “Your mommy and daddy are back.”
I get up off of the couch and pad over to the door. Balancing Sebastian in one arm, I pull the door open.
But it’s not Daniel and Gracie standing on the front porch. It’s Keeland.
"I can hear him yelling all the way from my kitchen," he says.
He doesn’t wait for an invitation to come in. He just kicks off his shoes and strolls past me, into the living room.
I follow him, rocking Sebastian vigorously as I go. “Sorry for the disturbance but he's a baby. You can't just press a button and turn him off like your fancy motorcycle or your pickup truck.” Or your feelings for me.
He looks at me with resentful eyes. “You really think that little of me? I wasn't asking you to do that. I was offering to let me help." He pushes back the sleeves of his Henley and stretches his thick, colorful forearms out to me.
I eye him suspiciously, snuggling my nephew closer to my chest. “What do you know about babies?”
“A lot.”
“Well, you’re not vague at all,” I say sarcastically as he eases the baby out of my arms. But the position he assumes automatically convinces me that he might not be bullshitting me after all. He cradles Sebastian’s head in the crook of his arm and uses his free arm to stroke the baby’s chest in a soothing rhythm. He holds Sebastian close and shushes into his ear while bouncing on the spot.
He glances at me over his shoulder. “Maybe he needs to be swaddled.”
I stare at him, puzzled. “He needs a swa-what?”
“He needs to be swaddled,” Keeland repeats as he moves into the kitchen. “For small babies like this, swaddling reminds them of being in their mother’s womb. Just bring his diaper bag in here.” The baby’s cries have already subsided from loud, pleading wails to a soft, tearless whimper.
I do as I’m told, swiping the pale blue diaper bag from the foot of the couch. I set it down on the kitchen table and open it wide. Keeland snuggles Sebastian with one arm and uses the other to reach in and grab a small mat, diapers and wipes.
I stand off to the side and watch as he sets Sebastian down on the mat to change his diaper. “Wow — I don’t call you Mr. Pooh for nothing,” I say peering over Keeland’s shoulder at the turmoil in the baby’s soiled diaper.
Then, Keeland takes a thin, cotton blanket, folds it into a triangle and sets the baby down in the middle. He wraps Sebastian up tight like a little burrito.
“What are you doing?” I panic. “You’re going to suffocate him!”
Keeland gives me a scolding stare. “Shh…” he says in a whisper. “You’ll get him all anxious again.”
I watch as Keeland holds Sebastian close and rocks him, shushing quietly into his ear. Within minutes, Mr. Pooh’s eyes flutter shut and his breathing evens out.
“He’s sleeping?” I whisper, grinning at Keeland in awe.
He grins back with a nod, mouthing the word ‘yes’. Then, he looks away from me and stares down into Sebastian’s face. His eyes are full of tenderness and affection, a stark contrast to his rough, rugged bad boy exterior.
You hear that crack-pop-boom?
That's the sound of my ovaries exploding because seeing Keeland Masters with a baby wrapped up in his strong, tatted arms is beyond sexy. I've never seriously entertained the thought of procreating. The idea of popping a tiny human being out of my body has never appealed to me but the visual in front of me has me second-guessing my position…Seriously hot.
Snap out of it, Samantha! I remind myself that this man does not deserve my…swoony-ness. He’s a jerk. And I hate him.
He walks into the living room and sets the baby down in the Moses basket on the carpet. He sits on floor and continues to stroke Sebastian’s chest.
“That was amazing,” I say in a hushed voice, sinking down onto the carpet next to him.
He shrugs and gives me a smug wink. “What can I say? I’ve got the magic touch…You should give it a shot some time.”
Shaking my head, I ignore his suggestive remark and veer the conversation elsewhere. “Where did you learn that?”
I can see the trepidation on his face even in the low-lit living room, but then, he says, “I dated a girl who had a baby.”
My eyebrows jump in surprise. “A baby? A newborn baby?”
He gives me an impish, one-sided grin. “Yup.”
“Was it your baby?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. She was pregnant when we met.”
I think my jaw just hit the carpet. “You picked up a pregnant girl?”
Keeland is quiet for a while, seemingly caught in his own thoughts. “I loved that kid like he was my own.”
“You must have really loved his mom, too. Taking on a baby is a big responsibility.”
When he speaks again, I’m not sure if he’s really talking to me or if he’s just vocalizing his internal dialogue. “I thought I loved her. I proposed to her…We planned a wedding…I look back now and I realize that I probably just needed a family, some stability. I moved around my whole life. Maybe I just wanted roots. Maybe that’s why I got involved with Rhys.”
Rhys. That’s the name of the girl from his Facebook page. The tattooed blonde with a pierced tongue and a bad attitude.
“Stability?” I say. “I never pegged you as the type of guy who’d want to settle down. Especially in your 20s.”
He looks at me with a quirked eyebrow. “Why? Because of my stunning good looks and bad boy charm?” he asks facetiously.
I ignore his comment, fighting a smile away from my lips. Instead, I ask, "How did you meet her? Rhys?”
He gives me his best shame-face. I’ve got to admit — it’s a really handsome shame-face.
“Do you really want to know?" he asks.
I laugh. “After seeing the facial expression you just made, now I really want to know."
He exhales roughly. "She came to my tattoo shop for a nipple piercing."
I collapse against the side of the couch, howling with laughter.
The baby startles. “Shhh,” Keeland scolds, nudging me in the shoulder.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, struggling to breathe as I clasp my hand over my mouth. “She came to you for a nipple piercing? I can just imagine you telling your future kids that story. 'Daddy, how did you meet Mommy?', 'Well son, Mommy came to me — while she was pregnant — to get her nipples pierced and I just knew she was the one."
He starts laughing too, absorbing the utter ridiculousness of the situation. "Actually it was more like, 'Son, once I saw your mother’s perky tits, I knew I had to come all over them.'"
"Eww. Gross." And the harder I laugh, the harder he laughs. And then, tears are streaking down my face.
Sebastian stirs and Keeland strokes his tummy, helping him to settle again. “But in all seriousness,” he whispers. “She wasn’t showing yet when we met. And by the time she told me that she was pregnant and I realized that those gorgeous tits were the result of the crazy pregnancy hormones flooding her body, I kind of just wanted to be there for her, for them.”
I stare at him, softening just a bit. “Wow. That’s really honorable,” I murmur. I’m truly impressed that Keeland stepped up to the plate to take care of a responsibility that he could have easily walked away from. Now, I’m having second thoughts about all the judgments I’ve made against him. Maybe if I look beyond my rage for a fraction of a second, I might discover that Keeland Masters is somebody I could actually like.
Then, he turns the tables on me. “So, when was the last time you had a boyfriend?”
I sigh ruefully. “I guess that would be Lenny. Almost two years ago.”
“Lenny? Seriously?” he asks, incredulous.
It’s my turn to nudge him in the shoulder. “Met him at the library when I was living in Chicago. He helped me study for my CPA exam. Against my better judgment, I let him move in with me after my roommate abandoned me in the middle of the lease. Big mistake. He had the personality of a potted plant and he would constantly leave his wet bath towel on my leather sectional, so it really wasn't hard to let him go when I found out he was cheating on me.”
“A guy named Lenny cheated on you?" Keeland asks with furrowed brows.
I release a thick breath. I’m silent for a moment as I stew in my shame. Then, I chuckle. "And Daniel came all the way down to the city to kick his ass. The moving truck was just peeling away from the curb in front of my building when my brother pulled up in his full-size Mercedes with his cap on backwards and his baseball bat.”
Keeland laughs, too. “Lenny…” He shakes his head sympathetically. “There’s no way some guy named Lenny is good in bed.”
I lean back against the side of the couch. "Sex is overrated."
“Psh. Whaaattt?” He looks at me like I just sprouted a second head.
I shrug. “I’ve faked my fair share of orgasms. Sometimes you just need to get it over with. Because it’s 9:45 on a Tuesday night and you have a big presentation at the staff meeting the next day or it’s the middle of a Saturday afternoon and that mountain of laundry on the bedroom floor won’t do itself even though you’re kind of excited to try out that new sex trick you read about in Cosmo.”
He scoffs at me. “Spoken truly as the ex-girlfriend of some chump named Lenny.” His pale blue irises twinkle as he looks me deep in my eyes and says, “But when we have sex, I assure you that you won’t be thinking about the laundry.”
A flood of awareness rushes into the space between my thighs and I feel heat run up my neck. “When?” Suddenly, I’m very conscious of how close we’re sitting and how masculine he smells.
He’s still holding my gaze, a confident glint in his eye. “When…”
Now, I’m blushing profusely. And it’s hot in here. Really hot. Fire crawls across my skin and my heart beats faster than ever. “How did we end up talking about this anyway?”
Just then, Sebastian stirs again. Keeland presses his index to his lips. “Shhh.” He turns his attention back to the Moses basket but he’s still wearing that smug twist on his lips.