While We Waited by Falkner Tammy

Author:Falkner, Tammy [Falkner, Tammy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Night Shift Publishing
Published: 2015-05-24T23:00:00+00:00

Finch

Tag and his offspring have been here for two weeks. Two weeks of a baby crying in the night. Two weeks of overflowing trash cans and a fridge full of formula bottles. Two weeks of cuteness overload.

Okay, I admit it. The kid is cute. And Tag is pretty damn cute, too. He’s good and kind and he’s an attentive father, or at least he’s trying to be.

I hug my pillow to me tighter and pound my fist into it. The kid has been crying for a couple of minutes and Tag hasn’t picked him up.

I get up and walk into the kitchen. The sound gets louder.

I walk to his room and fling open the door. “Can you shut that thing up?”

I freeze when I see that the bedside light is on but Tag isn’t in the room. Where is he? Then I hear the shower running. Tag worked late, working for the Reeds. I heard him when he came in, and I heard him tell Wren good night. He must have gone straight to jump in the shower after.

I walk to the side of the crib and look down. Benji’s face is all red and he’s kicking his arms and feet. I lay my hand on his belly and he kicks harder, but he doesn’t stop crying. I scoop him up in my arms and cradle him tightly. Wren says babies like to be cuddled. This one doesn’t, because he just screams even louder.

I walk to the kitchen and get one of his bottles from the fridge. I warm it up really quickly, and he roots around as I stick it in his mouth, and finally latches on to it. Okay. This is kind of cool. I can feed him and then I can lay him back down.

The house is completely silent, aside from his sucking-humming noises and the sound of the fan running in the bathroom. I hear the door open, and Tag walks into the room. He skids to a stop and I have to remind myself to breathe.

He’s wearing a towel. And that’s all. The corner of the towel is knotted in his fist. His long legs are bare except for a tattoo on his lower leg, and his chest is completely exposed. Water drips from his wet hair across his chest, and I have a crazy impulse to lick it away.

Holy shit. This is bad. I look down at Benji and watch him as he greedily devours his bottle. “He was crying,” I explain.

“Did he wake you?” He runs a spare towel across his hair.

I shake my head. “I was awake.”

“I didn’t realize you were here,” he says.

“Apparently.” I finally look up at him and I let my eyes wander over his torso.

His face colors and he turns toward his room. “I should put some clothes on,” he says, his voice gruff.

“Not a bad idea,” I whisper.

He closes his bedroom door behind him, and comes back out a minute later. He’s wearing a t-shirt and some pajama pants.

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