Page 7 of The Single Dads Club
I nod but continue making her bottle anyway. I doubt she’ll last much longer. Over the past couple of days, I’ve learned that she likes to eat about every four hours. Everything has been trial and error since. Andi left me exactly zero instructions.
Alexei’s deep voice interrupts my daydream. “There’s bottled water in the pantry.” He nods to the door at the end of the kitchen.
I go and grab a bottle of water and begin mixing up the formula.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. “You just got off work ... I have pretzels, crackers, fruit, or I could make you a frozen pizza.”
My stomach rumbles loudly at the mention of food. “That would be great, actually. Just something simple. Pretzels would be fine.”
When the bottle is ready, Alexei reaches for it, uninterested in putting Ella down, it seems. I’m not sure why it surprises me that he’d like to feed her. He really is a natural with babies.
“Would you mind if I took a shower? I actually feel kind of gross after I work.”
“Not at all. Second doorway on the right. The towels are in the cabinet. Help yourself.”
I nod, but then hesitate for a moment longer.
“I’ve got her, Ryleigh. You don’t have to worry.”
Smiling, I meet his eyes. I haven’t had someone to help, someone to just be there for me in so long, that it makes my chest tighten. I have to turn away quickly because I’m afraid the emotional roller coaster I’ve been on since Andi left me with Ella will surface in front of Alexei, and I’m not sure I’m ready to be that vulnerable in front of this man.
“Thanks,” I say finally, ducking out of the kitchen as I rush for the sanctuary of the bathroom and a shower that will wash my tears away quietly.
***
When I emerge from the bathroom, I hear Alexi cooing softly to the baby and singing her a lullaby in what I assume is Russian. She’s cradled in his arms, her eyes sleepy as she looks up at him. The sight of her tiny fingers wrapped around his index finger almost brings me to my knees. Involuntarily, though, my mouth breaks into a smile as I listen for a moment longer. Then I clear my throat.
“Hey,” he says, his lips turning up in a smirk. “Your shower okay?” His gaze wanders from mine down to my bare legs, and then back up.
My hair is damp, and I’ve changed into a pair of purple boxer shorts and an oversized T-shirt. I can feel my cheeks turn pink, but I nod and join him on the couch.
“That showerhead is seven-ways-to-Sunday amazing.”
He chuckles. “Completely agree. That showerhead alone is worth double its price when you need to relax.”
He places Ella so she’s reclining on the couch, propped up by her new Boppy pillow and swaddled in her blanket like a little stuffed burrito.
“She took the whole bottle, and then I changed her. She should be ready for bed anytime.”
“Thank you.” I give her tiny pajama-covered foot a squeeze. It’s only then that I notice the spread on the coffee table. A white platter contains a bunch of green grapes, sliced cheese, pretzels, and hummus.
“Wow. You didn’t have to do all that, thank you.” I help myself, popping a grape into my mouth.
“It wasn’t any trouble.”
Alexei watches while I eat, helping myself to a little bit of everything.
“This place is amazing. How long have you lived here?” I ask.
He considers my question, still watching me. “I moved to the city about three years ago.”
“For work?”
He nods.
“What do you do?”
“I play for the Chicago Hawks.”
