Page 98 of A Little Crush
Crap, I don’t know.
She starts to turn back to the elevator, but my impulsiveness gets the best of me. “I actually think we’ll still be in Houston, so I’m not sure that’ll work.”
“I’m sure Jaxon will figure it out,” Iris retorts. Then she walks into the elevator, barely looking up from her phone as the doors close seconds later.
Welp. So much for defending Jaxon’s time with Poppy. I tried.
“Yowza,” I mumble under my breath. Shaking off the willies from our interaction, I undo Poppy from her car seat and plant a loud, smacking kiss against her cheek. “Why, hello, Pops. Should we see how your daddy’s doing?” I pick her up when the strong smell of poop punches me in the face. How long has she been sitting with a soiled bum? I sigh, deciding not to go down that particular path. It’ll only stir the pot and piss me off. “Speaking of yowza,” I repeat. “You, my love, need a diaper change.”
While the Lions’game plays in the background, we hang out reading stories, practicing tummy time, which she’s already a pro at, and feeding Hades snacks from the high chair. Yup. It’s official. He’s a big fan of yogurt melts, and I’m a big fan of watching Poppy drop them on the ground or hang her tiny arm over the edge of the high chair so Hades can steal it directly from her little fingers. And getting paid to play with her confirms my sneaking suspicion that being a nanny is the best job on the planet. Seriously, every time I’m with this little girl only makes me want to be a mom even more. The way Poppy lights up when I make a funny face ather. The way she reaches for me and flaps her little arms at Hades. I’m in heaven.
Or at least, I was until the final buzzer rings out through the speakers, announcing the end of the game.
The Lions lost. One to zero. It was a rough one. With a frown, I turn off the television, my body weighing heavier than moments ago. I can only imagine how frustrated Jaxon must feel. Part of me wants to text him to ask how he’s doing and to tell him he’s still a badass and he’ll get them next time. If he was anyone else, I would. But I know it won’t help. Instead, I send the video from earlier of Poppy dropping a yogurt melt on the ground and Hades gobbling it up, hoping it’ll brighten his mood. After, I turn on some music, then get to work making dinner while taking dancing breaks every few minutes with a certain little girl who’s a big fan of Disney music. I’m not sure how much time passes, but the beef is browned and seasoned, the veggies are cut, and the guacamole is prepped. Satisfied, I wash my hands and pick up Poppy again. Spinning her around, I belt out the lyrics of “Let it Go” as Hades pads across the family room toward a waiting Jaxon.
Shit!
Clutching Poppy to my chest, I say, “And this is why I have a dog. How long have you been here?”
“The elevator opened two seconds ago.” He tilts his head. “What are you guys doing?”
“Well, weweredancing, and now I’m having a heart attack.”
“Of course,” he rumbles with a ghost of a smile.
Or maybe I’m imagining it.
I take him in, searching for clues as to how he’s handling the loss. His biceps bulge as he keeps his arms crossed over his chest, his shoulder resting against the wall. That same subtle lift of his lips teases me, and his eyes don’t look quiteas dark as usual. He seems…lighter than the last time—and sober, which is a win.
Determined to not ruin it, I continue our little dance. I sway Poppy back and forth, then let go of her hand and cradle her head, folding at the waist and dipping her like I would if we were in the throes of a tango. When I stand again, I keep her close to my chest, continuing our little dance as Jaxon watches us from just outside the elevator.
“She likes dancing,” he murmurs.
I grin. “Mm-hmm. Dancing, cooking, and feeding Hades.” I shimmy us toward the kitchen. “Pops and I made tacos.”
“Tacos, huh?”
“Mm-hmm,” I repeat. “I thought it might be fun for Poppy to try guacamole.” I grin. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” He pushes himself away from the wall and strides toward us, kissing Poppy’s forehead before his gaze strays to me, and I know what he’s thinking. Whether or not he should do the same to me. Would that be weird? Would it not? We haven’t really seen each other since he dropped me off after our date. Now here I am, in his house while holding his daughter.
“Here. Take her,” I offer. “I’ll dish you up.”
I start to hand her over to him, but instead of grabbing her, he wraps his arms around us both, swaying us to the music. And it’s…strange. Because in my head, I know it should be strange. But it doesn’t feel strange. It feels…really good, actually. Does that make sense? Probably not, but it doesn’t stop the feeling from washing over me.
“I thought you were starving,” I note.
He nods and dips closer, kissing me with a gentleness I can feel all the way down to my toes. It’s so sweet and innocent, it makes me feel like I’ve been transported to an alternate universe or something. Like this life belongs to someone else.Someone who’s a stay-at-home mom with a baby girl and a white picket fence and a ring on her finger. My eyelids flutter as I force myself to stay in reality. My reality. This reality. One that might not be quite as sweet, yet just as promising. Maybe. Possibly. Hopefully. I clear my throat and wiggle out of his hold, handing him Poppy. “Here. I’ve been dying to see her reaction.”
“To what?” he asks.
“I’ll show you.” Opening the fridge, I find a small bowl with smashed avocado and a wedge of lime. “I read that babies Poppy’s age can try guacamole. Want to see what she thinks?”
Twisting her around so her back is to his front, he gives me better access to feed her. “Hell, yeah. Let’s see what you think, Pops.”
A baby spoon is already on the counter, so I scoop up a bit of the guacamole, offering it to Poppy. When she opens her mouth, I spoon it in and hold my breath, curious to see her reaction. Her lips bunch and she smacks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, tasting the smashed avocado as if she can’t decide whether or not it’s a win. The reaction only lasts a second before she wiggles closer, her body jittering with excitement as she reaches for the spoon in my hand. Clearly, someone’s enjoying her first hit of Mexican goodness.
Jaxon’s low, rumbly laugh mingles with mine as he asks, “You think she likes it?”
