Page 69 of Treat

“Can I do anything for you while I’m here?” Brynn asked. “Do some laundry, load the dishwasher?”

“No, but thanks. I’ve got plenty of help.” Kara pulled her legs up onto the sofa to sit cross-legged. “My mom and sister are staying in the guest house, and Angela was here until an hour ago.”

“That’s nice.”

“What I need is a conversation that doesn’t revolve around nipple cream, diaper rash, or how sore my vag still is,” Kara continued.

“I’ll do what I can,” Brynn promised with a laugh.

“Good, because I’m dying to ask about you and Jude.”

“Oh.” Nerves jumping, Brynn rubbed her hands on her pants. “Okay.”

“Tommy said this is a new thing.”

Brynn nodded.

“Is it serious?”

“I think so?”

Kara pursed her lips. “You don’t sound very confident.”

“Because I’m not,” Brynn confessed and sighed. “Jude says it is, and I want it to be, but…”

“The whole boss/assistant thing,” Kara guessed.

Brynn nodded. “His agent summoned him to a meeting tomorrow.”

“I take it he’s not happy.”

“That’s probably an understatement.”

“Are you?” Kara asked. “Happy, I mean?”

“When it’s just Jude and me, yeah. I am. But it’s not just us.”

Kara’s gaze was sympathetic. “Do you love him?”

Brynn bit her lip and glanced at the doorway where Jude had disappeared. “I think so.”

“Does he love you?”

“I don’t know. He said he wants to be with me and that Grant—that’s his agent—and everyone else will just have to deal. But if it comes down to me or his career, how can I ask him to choose?”

Jude watchedTommy change the baby’s diaper from what he considered a safe distance of approximately five feet.

“You can come closer, you know,” Tommy said. He had the baby on the changing table, dirty diaper off and stashed in something called a Diaper Genie, and was mopping up the mess that, as far as Jude could see, went all the way to the kid’s knees. “She doesn’t bite.”

“I’m good, thanks. Wouldn’t it be easier to just put her in the tub?”

“You’d think,” Tommy muttered, grabbing another wipe. “This shit is so sticky.”

“I didn’t need to know that,” Jude muttered, averting his eyes. Desperate to change the subject, he blurted out, “My agent saw the kiss-cam thing. He’s flying in tonight.”

Tommy let out a low whistle. “Because you kissed a girl at a ballgame?”

“Because I kissed my assistant at a ballgame, and it got broadcast on national TV,” Jude clarified. “I haven’t looked at social media yet to see if it’s hit there, but?—”

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