Page 25 of Love is a Drum Beat
“Because she’s now alone in her apartment after having to go to the hospital. I’ll do what she asks and come back when it’s time to meet the kid, but I need you to take care of her.”
“Jo would say she can take care of herself.”
Noah laughed. “She would. She definitely would. But sometimes, she’s wrong.”
“You don’t have to worry.” Why hadn’t Jo mentioned she was staying with him? “I have her set up in a room at my house.”
Noah was quiet for a long moment. “And she… is okay with that?”
“So far.”
“Hm, interesting. Keep me posted, okay?”
“Sure.”
“And tell her we’ve all voted and decided to name the boy Noah Junior.”
“I will not.” Dax set his guitar aside. “When did we vote?”
“Oh, did you miss it? I’m sorry, Melanie and I held the vote in London with Stella breaking the tie. And that little girl loves me, so… Noah it is.”
Dax chuckled. “Good luck getting Jo to agree.”
Noah grunted something unintelligible.
A crash sounded somewhere in the house, and Dax jumped to his feet. “Noah, I have to go.” He hung up and stuffed his phone into his pocket. Running out into the living room, he peered across the house to where the fridge was open.
Once he rounded the kitchen island, he caught sight of Jo sitting on the ground surrounded by broken glass and pickle juice. She gave him a sheepish look. “I can explain.”
His brow furrowed. “First, clean up. Then, explanation.”
“Me Tarzan, you Jane.”
“What?” Would he ever understand this woman?
“Oh, I thought we were talking like we’d been raised by gorillas. You know, incomplete sentences.”
Jo was ridiculous. And he couldn’t take his eyes from the tiny shard of glass piercing her foot.
Dax retrieved a bag and picked up each piece of glass. They’d have to vacuum the rest. Ignoring the spilled pickle juice, he reached down and lifted Jo. Even pregnant, she was easy to carry. As if on instinct, she curled into him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her breath hot on his neck.
“It’s okay.” His mom used to tell him he had the patience of a saint. He rarely got mad. Annoyed, yes, but he wasn’t annoyed with Jo.
Luckily, the pickle juice didn’t get on Jo, so he lowered her onto the couch. “I’ll get the first aid kit.” He knew exactly where it was. Really, he knew where everything in his house was. Each item had its place, and Dax wasn’t used to anyone messing up his orderly world.
His obsessive cleaning mode kicked in, and he wanted to mop the pickle juice up, but that would have to wait.
Reaching into the back of the pantry, he found the kit and returned to Jo. Her head was tilted back against the pillows, and that stubborn gaze was hidden beneath her eyelids.
Panic gripped him. Had she been hurt more than he thought? “Jo.” He latched onto her arm. “Jo, wake up.”
The tension in his belly didn’t uncoil until her eyes slid open.
“I’m so tired, Dax.”
The way she said his name—like it was the punctuation mark at the end of a sentence—did something to him, something he wasn’t used to. He cleared his throat. “I need to take care of your foot.”
