Page 35 of The Refiner

Astor lifts his gaze, his stunning blue eyes streaked red like mine. “Hey.”

I nod to the tiny newborn in my arms. “The nurse said she was being you and upsetting everyone.” Tatum decides to confirm by crying. “I thought you might like to feed her.”

I’m not going to call him out just yet. Piper treated him delicately at the baby shower. Maybe he has a thing about kids. Maybe Piper took his secret with her?

Either way, no matter Astor’s secret, Piper would want Astor to have a healthy relationship with their daughter no matter what.

Astor clears his throat, casting a wary glance at Tatum. “You can feed her. Piper would want that.”

Okay, so he’s going to continue to be difficult. Let me try a different strategy. “I think Piper would choke you with her purse strap if she heard your tacky refusal.”

He shakes his head, a silent plea in his eyes. “Please, Keys. Please feed her.”

And Tatum, just like her aunt, expresses her disappointment with the food delay by wailing. “Fine, but only because I don’t think all three of us should be crying. Someone must be the comforter in this shitshow.”

He’s quick to correct me. “I wasn’t crying.”

I take the seat next to him on the vinyl sofa, not bothering to give him space. Instead, I slide right up next to him, so he’s forced to smell his daughter’s soft skin and see her eyes staring sleepily back at him. “Sure, you weren’t, champ. But don’t worry, I promised Piper-doodle I would stop giving you a hard time.”

Surely, she’ll forgive me if I fudge a little on that particular promise. She knows Astor can induce violent behavior.

Settling Tatum in the crook of my arm, I flash Astor a smile. “Last chance. Are you sure you don’t want to pop the seal and feed the little gremlin the first of a gazillion bottles?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I’m sure.”

“Have it your way.”Don’t say I didn’t try, Pipe.

One-handed, I unzip my hoodie as the nurse instructed and pull down the neck of my sweater, exposing some bare skin on my chest.

“What are you doing?”

Is that shock or fear I hear in his voice? “I’m doing kangaroo care with Tatum. The nurse said it’s important for infants to have skin-to-skin contact after birth. Did your fancy medical degree not cover that topic?”

He moves his head side to side, stunned.

I roll my eyes. And Piper thought this man was a score.

“Well, I suggest you pull out your phone and google it since your medical skills leave a lot to be desired. Doctor, my ass….”

“I’m not a neonatologist,” he snaps back, “and it isn’t like this whole thing hasn’t been traumatic for all of us.”

True, but… “I know becoming a father is a surprise. I get that. And becoming a single father is even more of a shock. Losing my sister and becoming a surprise aunt isn’t my ideal vacation either. But this isn’t about us anymore. Tatum is the only one who matters right now. Mine and your trauma will just have to wait. My sister would dig a tunnel through heaven to help me if I needed her. I’m going to make sure her daughter knows that we will too. We’re all she has now. It’s our job to make sure we don’t fuck her up worse than Piper would’ve.”

I hold out the bottle. “Now hold this for a minute while I attempt being a kangaroo foryourchild.”

Astor swallows, his fingers absently wrapping around the bottle as his gaze tracks my hands, unwrapping his daughter (effectively pissing her off) and placing her baby skin onto mine. “Okay, give me the milk.”

I don’t miss the tremble in his hands when he passes me the bottle, which is so confusing. Why would a surgeon who specializes in kids be terrified of his own? Did he watchChuckygrowing up, or does his mom have a doll collection that terrified him on stormy nights? What could possibly make a grown man scared of a helpless infant?

Sliding the nipple past Tatum’s lips, she latches on and sucks aggressively, making her Aunt Keys proud. “Attagirl. You’re going to hurt all the little boys’ feelings at the bar one day.”

A noise, much like a shocked scoff, comes from my right, making me turn my head to the source. “Are you opposed to her making boys cry?” I narrow my gaze at Tatum’s father.

Please tell me Piper didn’t pick a pussy to be her baby’s daddy.

“No, not the tears,” he corrects, arching a brow, “just the bar.”

I rear back. “What? You want her to grow up frugal and drink at home?”

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