Page 20 of One Pucking Life

He leads me through the house, pointing out the basics—the kitchen, living room, and guest bathroom. Then he stops in front of a door and nudges it open with his shoulder.

“This is yours,” he says.

It’s bigger than I expected, with a queen-sized bed, a dresser, and a small desk tucked near the window. The walls are painted a calming pale gray, and there’s a soft area rug underfoot. A folded stack of fresh towels sits on the bed.

“I wasn’t sure what you'd need, so if anything is missing, just let me know.”

“It’s perfect,” I say, a little surprised that I mean it.

He nods, then tilts his head down the hall. “And Caroline’s room is just across from yours. That way, you’re close, especially for at night.”

He pushes open a second door, and I swear my heart melts on sight.

The nursery is soft and serene, bathed in pale peach and creamy whites. A white crib stands in the center, its delicate sides framed with a fuzzy blanket, the fabric soft as a cloud. A changing table stocked with all the essentials sits nearby, and a rocking chair is tucked into the corner, inviting quiet moments. Above the crib, a mobile of tiny clouds and stars sways gently, adding a whimsical touch. It’s the kind of nursery you’d expect to see in a magazine—everything perfectly in place, a picture of tranquility.

“Wow, you did all this?” I ask, stepping in and admiring the space. “You’ve only had her just over a week, right?”

Max chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I can’t take credit for any of it. This was all Iris. She’s a sucker for a good design project.”

“True. She’s got an eye for it.” I smile, thinking about how Iris always seems to find joy in the details.

“She’s been over here almost every day, and while she’ll tell you she was just watching Caroline, I think half her time was spent perfecting the nursery.” Max’s voice softens as he glances around. “I can’t complain, though. It turned out great. And, honestly, I’m hoping this space will help Caroline feel moresettled. Though…” He pauses, looking a little sheepish. “She’s not the best sleeper.”

“We’ll fix that,” I say, my voice confident. I walk toward the crib, brushing my fingers gently over the edge. “A good routine is the key. And this space is perfect.”

Max leans against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on me. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something in the way he’s looking at me—like he’s trying to find the right words. “I want her to feel safe here, to have a place where she can dream and grow.”

My heart skips a beat as his words settle between us. I meet his eyes, offering him a reassuring smile. “She will,” I say softly. “You’re doing a great job, Max. She’s lucky to have you.”

For a moment, the silence lingers, comfortable and full of unspoken understanding. Then Max runs a hand through his hair and glances toward the door. “It’s been a long day. You must be starving.”

I nod, realizing I haven’t eaten since this morning. “Yeah, I could go for something. Maybe we should order dinner?”

Max’s lips curl into a grin. “I was thinking the same thing. How about pizza? I know it’s not gourmet, but it’s definitely easy and always hits the spot. I’ll throw in a salad to add some nutrients.”

He hands me Caroline, and I gently adjust her in my arms, feeling the warmth of her little body against mine as she shifts. Max pulls his phone out of his back pocket, tapping away.

“Sounds perfect. I’ll take my salad with extra ranch, and not the bottled kind. I’m talking about homemade ranch.”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re a woman after my own heart. There’s a place down the road that makes the best ranch.”

“Good,” I tease, smiling at the baby in my arms as she looks up at me with sleepy eyes. “Maybe this is going to work out afterall. People who think bottled ranch and homemade taste the same can’t be trusted.”

Max looks over at me, a playful glint in his eyes. “Oh, this is definitely going to work out. I might go insane otherwise. And I agree, there’s no comparison.” His fingers glide over the phone as he places the order.

Once he finishes, he looks up from his phone and watches me interact with Caroline, a quiet smile on his face. “Thanks for agreeing to come here,” he says softly, his voice sincere. “I know living here is a big adjustment. I mean, it’s only been the first fifteen minutes, but I already feel... better. Like I can breathe for the first time today.”

I meet his gaze, a warmth spreading in my chest. “It’s no problem at all,” I reply, my voice calm. “I’m happy to be here. And I get it... big changes can be overwhelming.” I look down at Caroline. “She’s adorable, Max. You’re doing great with her.”

He chuckles, but there’s a hint of vulnerability in his laugh. “Thanks. I’m trying my best, but if I’m being honest, I’m just winging it.”

I smile reassuringly. “You’re doing better than you think.”

Max’s smile widens slightly, his eyes softening. There’s a quiet moment between us, charged with an unspoken connection that neither of us acknowledges aloud, but it’s there, building with each passing second. I’m not sure what it is, and maybe it’s nothing more than compatibility in our present situation, but it feels like something more. The back recesses of my mind start to sound off with warning bells because it’s all a little too comfortable, a little too easy. Yet, for once, I don’t give those warnings a voice because I’m not worried.

Caroline stirs in my arms, and I adjust her to get more comfortable. Max clears his throat, breaking the tension. “So how about a movie while we wait for dinner?” he suggests, his voice warmer now, a little more casual.

“That sounds good,” I say, glancing down at Caroline.

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