Page 132 of Surprisingly Us

In the bathroom, I clean up, wipe the now dry spit-up off my body then put on a clean shirt. I attempt to rinse the vomit off of my vintage Valentino polo with water, then pray that the dry cleaner will be able to get the smell out.

When I return to the babies’ room, I find Lettie there with both girls sprawled out on the carpeted floor.

“Better?” she asks, nodding at my shirt.

“Yeah.” And because I’m already epically failing at this so I might as well go all in, I reach for the toes of the baby wiggling around on the floor and give her my best rendition ofthis little piggiebefore blowing a raspberry on the bottom of each foot.

Hearing the baby’s high-pitched giggles and squeals of delight is surprisingly rewarding.

I look up to find Lettie watching me closely, a huge smile spread across her face. And if the baby’s joyous laughter wasn’t enough, that smile right there makes my night. Maybe I’m not so bad at this after all.

CHAPTER 38

Colette

After I lay Poppy down in her crib, I quietly exit the room to check on Rhys and Finley.

Even when we put the gas medicine into her bottle as Sophie instructed, Finley was still fussy, so Rhys took her into Sophie and Hunter’s bedroom so her crying didn’t disturb Poppy. I’d offered to take Finley, to let him put Poppy down since she’s easier going, but he shook his head and told me he could handle it. It was a far cry from the helpless man who got thrown up on.

Rhys had not been pleased when he found out we were here to babysit, but I figured if he didn’t want to be here, he could leave at any time. But he stayed. And when he tapped intothis little piggieand his foot massage skills, he really turned a corner.

I crack open the bedroom door to find Rhys in the middle of the room cradling Finley in his arms. He wasn’t even comfortable holding her two hours ago, but now he’s softly humming to her and holding her snugly against his chest. Something about the contrast of his black ink tattooed arm against the pastel pink of her pajama onesie makes my stomach flutter. Or is that my ovaries? It’s hard to tell. They’re kind of in the same vicinity.

I know I shouldn’t even be having these thoughts, but watching him rock her to sleep is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

Don’t you dare swoon over Rhys Spencer, I chastise myself. We’re just friends. Friends who are fake engaged.

But it’s moments like these that I see a glimpse of the gooey center he’s got hidden beneath his rough edges. The more I seek these moments out, the more I find the treasure trove of hidden gems.

I push the door open farther, and the light from the hallway filters in. Rhys lifts his head in my direction, a finger to his lips to indicate Finley is asleep, or very close to it.

He carefully walks her across the hallway and lays her in her crib.

“You’re a natural,” I whisper, once he’s closed the door to their room.

“If I was a natural, you wouldn’t have found it so entertaining to torture me with this little surprise tonight,” he says as we move down the hallway and out to the kitchen.

“Torture wasn’t my incentive, more like introspection.” And payback.

“You’ve made your point.”

“Have I?” I ask, my lashes lowering.

I’m flirting with Rhys. I’m not even doing it on purpose, it’s become second nature. I didn’t think it would be this easy. Part of our comfort with each other since we’ve been in this fake relationship. I should see it as an achievement, but instead, I find myself panicking a little.

Will I ever feel like this with someone else?

Do I want it to?

“Yes. You’re cut out for this kind of thing and I’m not. You’d be sweet, doting Aunt Lettie that does everything right and I’d bewildly inappropriate Uncle Rhys that swears too much and gets everyone drunk on their twenty-first birthday.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“You’d be fun, yet dependable Uncle Rhys. The guy who picks you up when you fall and carries you the three miles home. The one who sneaks you fudge popsicles when your parents said no because you didn’t eat your vegetables. And you’d be the guy they go to for shopping advice.”

“Neither of us have siblings so I don’t have to worry about it.”

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