Page 5 of Rock the Cradle of Love
He takes in the room again. For a guest room, the color’s fine. For a little princess’s room—because Emma’s absolutely going to be treated like a princess. And not only by Noah, but by Taylor himself as well. He kisses the side of Emma’s head. Yeah. He’s totally fucked. Anyway, for a princess’s room, the color’s got to go.
The furniture will have to be stored or gotten rid of, but for now, Emma’s things can be put away in here. By the time Taylor’s got Emma’s clothes sorted and tucked into drawers, she’s fussing again.
“Hey, Little Miss—what do you think of that for your hockey name?”
Emma kicks her legs in seeming displeasure and squawks.
“It’s not that bad,” he says, jiggling her a bit now. “We’ll try it out again later when you’re not so wound up, huh? Let’s do a diaper check and try a bottle.”
After a fresh diaper and a bottle, she’s still upset, and her crying is ramping up. Oh, joy. He circles the kitchen and the living room umpteen times, but to no avail. Not that he expected anything really. Thirty minutes into Emma’s crying jag, Taylor finally has an epiphany. He digs around in Noah’s hall closet and pulls out a queen size flat sheet.
“This ought to do,” he says. “My niece Tara had colic like you, Ems, and my sister would strap Tara to her body with this long piece of material. Then she could do other stuff if necessary. You want to try it?”
Emma wails.
“Well, too bad for you, Little Miss.” Taylor lays the sheet out on the guest room bed and arranges it as best he can remember, then lays Emma down. How the fuck’s he supposed to get the sling, along with Emma, attached to his body? Oh, wait—Suzan had to situate the sling on her body first, then get Tara into it. That’s right.
“There,” he says proudly, ten minutes later. He looks pretty silly with a huge sheet wrapped around him, but Emma’s snuggled against his chest and, even though she’s still going at it, her cries have lost some of their intensity. For the moment, anyway. He’s not fooling himself. “Now, my lovely, let’s play some Xbox.”
The odd sounds of the Pac-Man game he’s playing, along with the colorful visuals, keep her somewhat mollified as well. By the time he’s bested his own high score half a dozen times, Emma’s sound asleep. It’s only taken him two and a half hours, and he heaves a sigh of relief.
Emma repeats the cycle of being awake and happy, awake and crying, and being asleep three more times by the time Noah emerges from his room. Taylor swallows hard at the sight of Noah looking soft and sleep rumpled.
God, Taylor wants. He wants down and dirty sex, he wants unhurried sex. But he also wants to hold hands, murmur sweet nothings, and generally just be together. Unfortunately, he’s never found a man who’s willing to put up with him. He’s too much, he’s been told. Too touchy-feely, too clingy, too needy. He’s all the things men dislike about women. They certainly don’t want that in a queer man. Taylor sighs. Noah’s always been rather reserved. There’s just no way he’s gay.
Once Taylor helps Noah get up to speed on baby tending, he’s gonna go on a hookup spree and get Noah out of his system once and for all.
Chapter Three
Noah slides into wakefulness in stages. It’s dim, but not dark in his room. The clock says it’s after seven, but he can’t tell if it’s a.m. or p.m. The condo is silent…no not quite. There’s some sort of noise coming from the living room. A shiver ripples through him. No wonder he’s chilled…he slept on top of the covers rather than underneath. Normally, he hates sleeping without at least a sheet over top of him, but he’d been so worn out and the shower had relaxed him so much, he’d barely made it into his underwear, much less under the covers, before his eyes closed and he’d fallen asleep. He’d obviously slept so hard that even a slight chill hadn’t woken him. Now he feels sore on top of sore, not only from hockey, but from his muscles being contracted in an effort to keep warm.
His ribs, back, and thighs still ache, reminding him of every minute of ice time from the last three games. Just over sixty minutes total, as the teams the Rotors played were also competing against them for standings and playoff slots. The Rotors had played hard, but ultimately, they’d missed the mark.
He should be more disappointed about not making the playoffs than he is, but with Jules’s situation having come to a head, he’s glad that the season is over and that he has nothing to worry about but Emma for the next four months or so.
Noah’s mind wanders to Taylor. He’s grateful for Taylor’s friendship. They’d clicked on the ice right from the beginning, but their off-ice relationship had taken longer to develop. Now they’re solid, though, and they hang out often, not only on road trips, but also between them. They’ve even planned a couple of adventures for before summer ends. Noah isn’t sure how Emma’s arrival is going to change things.
Taylor’s acceptance of Noah’s decision to take Emma had been immediate and unwavering, or so it seemed. Noah hadn’t been all there when Taylor had shown up. But Taylor’s willingness to care for an oft-squalling infant for an indeterminate amount of time is indicative of Taylor’s soft heart. Brash and sometimes crude on the outside, he’s a marshmallow on the inside. And he loves kids too. He brags on his nieces and nephews all the time, shares pictures that his sisters send. Even draws attention to the accomplishments of their teammates’ kids when they share with him. It’s one of the things that Noah likes so much about Taylor.
Noah pulls on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt and pads out to the living room. The creeping darkness out the east window tells him it’s evening. His gaze settles on Taylor, and Noah stops short, trying to figure out what he’s seeing. Taylor’s got a bedsheet wrapped around him and there’s a huge moving growth on his chest.
“Is Emma in there?” Noah asks, incredulous. “For goodness sake’s, why?”
A wide grin spreads across Taylor’s face when he looks up and nods. He runs a gentle hand along the curve of pale blue 700-thread-count sheeting. “Babies like to be close to their parents, but it’s hard to get anything done when your hands are full of wiggling infant. There are official slings or whatever they’re called. I had to improvise.”
“I see that. Did it help?” Noah wants to laugh and can’t quite hide his chuckle. Taylor looks ridiculous, but he’s got a confidence that Noah envies. He loves that Taylor’s a good sport about being chirped too.
Taylor stands and holds his arms out. The bundle sags slightly but otherwise stays put. “Some, yeah. I mean if you’re going to hold her anyway, may as well make it as comfortable as possible on the both of you, right?”
Noah nods. It makes sense.
Taylor shifts the edge of the sheet and looks into his Egyptian cotton pouch. “Hey, Ems, look who’s awake.” His low volume and sweet tone endear Taylor to Noah all the more. If he hadn’t already developed an affinity for Taylor, Taylor’s care of Emma would have tipped him over the edge.
Noah leans close and sees her gnawing on a small teething ring, and his heart turns over at the happy expression he gets from Emma. How can he be so in love already? He reaches for his baby girl. “Can I?” he asks Taylor.
“She’s all yours, Daddy-o.” Taylor helps unwrap her and hands her over. They settle back on the sofa side-by-side.
Noah cradles her in his arm, curves a hand over her fuzzy head. “Hi, sweetheart.” Her eyes crinkle and her whole body wriggles in response. “Were you a good girl for—” He looks at Taylor. “—Uncle Taylor, was it?”
