Page 9 of You've Got Male

“Sorry about the noise.” Jonah shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know what to do when she gets like this.”

Evie opened her mouth to tell Jonah this was the universe’s way of punishing him for the “hilarious” basket of rotten pomegranates he had left on her front porch and other shenanigans he’d pulled on her over the past few months. Like after she asked him to clean up the fallen leaves and he had put them in a tidy pile in the center of her driveway. Or how, on his side yard that faced her bedroom, he’d put in a light bright enough to be seen from space. But instead she heard herself offer, “Here. Let me try something.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, but he was already holding her out. “She’s built like a brick and has a wicked left hook.”

Evie wasn’t intimidated. She’d suffered enough forehead to the chin action in Camila’s younger years to know how to bob and weave. She gripped Waverly under the armpits and the kid stopped squirming until she realized she wasn’t going to be put down, then it was like trying to hold a slicked pig at the county fair.

“I,”gasp, “want,”gasp, “downie!” And then came the sobbing crescendo.

Ignoring the tantrum, Evie walked into the bathroom and turned the water to cold. With the confidence that comes from years of dealing with tantrums, she bounced the toddler on her hip, wet her hand and then rested it on Waverly’s cheek.

The cool touch shocked Waverly and broke her next sob midway. Waverly opened her mouth again, a cry right there waiting to be released, when Evie did it again to her other cheek,gently cupping it. They played this game a few times before the little girl’s sputtering slowed, breathing regulated, and her body started to sag, her little palms unfisting and going flat against Evie’s chest.

“You’re just sleepy is all,” she said quietly, swaying back and forth. “I’m pretty sleepy, too.”

She rested her cheek on the top of Waverly’s head and took a deep breath. God, she loved the smell of babies. Loved how they felt and how they sounded. Even when they were fussy, Evie couldn’t get enough.

She gave a few more shushing sounds and ran a cool hand down Waverly’s neck. Evie opened her eyes and found that they weren’t alone. Jonah was leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, one ankle crossed over the other, arms folded, a gentle look on his face Evie had never seen before.

One she didn’t want to investigate too much. Only she couldn’t seem to look away. A problem, since neither did he. Holding her gaze, he slowly approached and rested his palm on his daughter’s back and made comforting little circles. And that was how they ended up sharing the same five-foot-square space with a sleepy toddler tying them together.

The longer they stood there, the more intense this feeling in her stomach grew, the more at ease they became with each other, until it felt as if the clock had turned back to a time when there was comfort between them. The connection was the same, yet somehow different.

Deeper.

“How did you do that?” he asked quietly.

“When Camila was this age, sometimes she’d get fussy just from being fussy. A cool hand can be a little reboot.”

“Does it work on adults?” he said lowly, and even though she knew he wasn’t flirting, the air between them felt heavy.

“Do you need a reboot?”

“I think I need more than a reboot. My whole life is a constant 404 Error.”

Evie connected with this on such an elemental level that when he held his arms out, she nearly walked right into them. The urge and need to close the distance gradually built until her heart was thumping hard against her ribs. His gaze met hers and something deep and tangible passed between them.

He opened his mouth just as Waverly let out a big yawn, breaking the moment and reminding Evie of why this could never happen. He might not want to acknowledge that their lives and obligations and external expectations were between them, but there they were.

They were both in different stages of life. He was at the start of fatherhood. College was becoming more of a reality every day for herself and Camila. Her world was messy enough without adding another person to her to-do list.

Although her hormones said he’d be a great to-do addition.

His eyes went soft with disappointed understanding as he took Waverly and cradled her to his chest.

“I know you weren’t around when Ryan was this age, but I promise it gets easier.” Evie soaked a hand towel in the cool water and put it on the back of Waverly’s neck.

“Ryan’s grades are bottoming out and he spends more time at home playing video games than with his friends.”

Her heart cried for Ryan. The teen years were already hard, but to wake up one morning to discover your mom’s time on Earth had an early expiration date would be devastating and confusing. Camila’s shattered family unit was enough to affect her views on relationships and self-worth; Evie couldn’t fathom the scars Ryan would carry for the rest of his life.

When his daughter was relaxed, her head resting lazily against his shoulder, Jonah backed out of the bathroom and slowly paced from one end of the bedroom to the next, stepping aroundthe bags and laundry baskets, rubbing Waverly’s back the entire time.

“Today is Amber’s birthday,” he said softly.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t know.” Or she never would have summoned Jonah to a meeting that, in the grand scheme of things, didn’t matter.

“Me neither, until Ryan locked himself in his bedroom earlier, after he’d made a cake with Waverly. I completely forgot.”

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