Page 37 of Flirty Thirty

“I’ll write you a prescription for—”

“Ibuprofen,” I interject. “Apparently, this guy can’t take anything stronger than that.”

He chuckles at Cooper nodding like a bobble-head. “All right, then. Let’s get that temp in there. You’ll be back to your date in twenty minutes, tops. Wouldn’t want to waste that spectacular dress on a night here.”

I smile in appreciation, warmth touching my cheeks as the dentist scopes out my “lucky” attire once more. Cooper lifts an eyebrow up at me. Those blue eyes, while showing how much pain he truly is in, also have a hint of admiration swirling in them.

“No offense, Doc. But I don’t think it’s the dress.”

15

Cruel Birth Control

“H-holy cow,” Katie says through her wide open mouth. I chalk exhaustion up to the lack of filter. If the mansion wasn’t enough of a shock, the second her eyes land on my housemate she seems to lose coherent thought. She nearly drops the car seat hooked on her arm, and Cooper is quick to relieve her of it.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, then turns that fun-loving, adorable grin to the almost two-month-old in the car seat. “And you too, little man.”

Katie chokes on what could only be air, and I’m sure Jim would call her out on the gawking if he wasn’t doing the same thing to the TV.

I bite back a laugh at their reactions, wondering if that is exactly how I looked when I first saw Cooper… and the TV, for that matter.

Claire seems to be the only one capable of saying anything, and with one hand clinging to Jim and the other pointing straight up at Cooper, she says, “Kitty!”

Cooper’s brows bunch, and he whips around. “Where?” I stifle my laughter, a snort rumbling my nose at his overreaction. He still hasn’t gotten used to Tom and Kat and has done his best to avoid them entirely. That’s going to change at some point during this experiment, I’m sure of it.

Katie lets out a shaky laugh that seems to takes her out of her daze. “Sorry. She’s not used to seeing facial hair.”

Jim tears his eyes from the TV to give his wife a look. My brother has been a giant supporter of the fresh face, mostly for the hygienic aspect. He’s a bit OCD, and any sprout of fuzz along his chin causes his mind to get extremely itchy.

Cooper grins, crouching down to settle the car seat on the floor and get eye level with my niece. “You like kitties?”

“No!”

He faux gasps, then sticks his bottom lip out in a playful pout. I really do wish him luck; that girl will not be warming up to anyone anytime soon.

Claire sticks her tongue out and blows a wet raspberry, then scurries past us to destroy whatever room she finds first, singing a song in a language that I swear isn’t English.

“Claire Liza Baker!” Katie sighs, dropping the diaper bag to the ground. “I’m so sorry,” she apologizes to Cooper. I raise an eyebrow because she’s never apologized for Claire’s behavior around me, but perhaps that’s because I’m family.

Cooper waves her off, straightening from his crouch. “That’s pretty polite for a two-year-old from what I’ve heard.”

A crash sounds from the back hallway, and my brother rushes off to see what sort of trouble Claire’s causing. I reach for the good child before I get stuck dealing with the other one. Cooper wants kids? Claire may convince him otherwise, and I’ll prove my point without uttering a single word.

“There should be enough milk in there for the day,” Katie says as I unbuckle the sweet,quiet,little boy. I may not want babies, but they have thebestsmell. I cradle his tiny body to my chest, inhaling the fresh scent of baby shampoo off his soft head. He’s so warm and squishy, if they didn’t grow into that chaos creator back there, then I’d be all for making babies.

“He’s getting a rash under his little balls. So make sure you get the cream on there.” She starts digging around in her bag. “I think I packed the powder… it’s in here somewhere I think. If not, that’s fine. But use the cream. Poor guy hasn’t been sleeping well because of it. Oh! And he is a projectile burper. I’d cover up with more than just a rag after he’s done eating.”

Got it… make Cooper burp the baby.

Katie clutches her head, muttering to herself, “What else…?”

“Relax,” I tell her. “It’s not like I haven’t done this before.”

She laughs, her mouth tired and her eyes at half-mast. I hope my brother treats her to a much needed nap before a much needed romp. But judging by the anxious look in his eyes when he comes back down the hall with Claire on his hip, I highly doubt a nap is anywhere in his mind.

“There are snacks for that one”—Katie nods to her daughter—“in the bag. And there’s a Lunchable since she’s a picky princess, aren’t ya?” Claire grins at the tease in her mom’s voice before she hides from Cooper’s wide smile by using her dad’s shoulder. “She won’t eat anything you cook for her.”

“Oh trust me,” I say over my nephew’s head, locking a teasing glance on Cooper. “I don’t blame her.”

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