The Match: A Baby Daddy Donor Romance by Renshaw Winter

Author:Renshaw, Winter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Fabian

* * *

My head pulsates as I shuffle down the hallway Sunday morning. The house is quiet—save for Lucia’s faint cries. Rossi looked so peaceful this morning sleeping next to me, her dark hair splayed out on her pillow and her lips slightly swollen from last night …

I didn’t want to wake her, so I crept out the instant I heard the baby.

Only now that I’m standing outside Lucia’s door, I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do.

“Lucia,” I whisper when I step in. “Shhhhh.”

Her eyes widen—fear? Shock? Impossible to know. I’m sure she was expecting her mother, but I’ll have to suffice.

“It’s okay,” I say, scooping her up and carrying her to the kitchen.

Placing her in her high chair the way I watched Rossi do several times yesterday, I buckle her in and head to the fridge. I distinctly remember Lucia eating yogurt at one point yesterday—a yellow container, laughably small and covered in cartoon bananas. I manage to find one, as well as a baby spoon from a drawer, and take a seat across from her.

She pounds on the high chair tray, eyeing her breakfast and licking her lips.

“I feel like we’re missing something …” I scan the surroundings. “But I have no idea what that would be.”

My daughter giggles, reaching as I peel off the yogurt top and load her first bite.

Only the instant the yellow goop slides down her face and lands on her pink pajamas, I realize exactly what I’d forgotten: a bib.

Hopping up, I make my way around the kitchen in search of the bib stash—locating a slew of them in the drawer beside the sink.

A minute later, we’re back in business.

I load up another bite, this one smaller, and I move her hands aside as I spoon it into her mouth.

“I know,” I say, “food is exciting. But when you reach for it, it tends to go flying and I’m going to be the one stuck picking up the mess, so …”

She bounces in her seat as I load up the next one.

It’s weird, talking to a baby.

And I’d never be caught dead using one of those vocally fried baby voices.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thoroughly enjoying this one-on-one time. Not that Rossi makes me feel judged, but there’s more pressure when she’s around. This is one of the rare scenarios in my life where I’m the amateur being watched by the professional.

The sound of heavy, shuffling footsteps signals that our alone time is officially over.

“Morninggggg, Baby Daddy.” A froggy, pseudo-whining voice says. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Carina. A cabinet opens and slams shut. “Thanks for letting me sleep in your room last night. Hope the couch didn’t suck.”

“Slept like a dream,” I say, giving Lucia her last bites before chucking the container in the trash and rinsing the spoon in the sink.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rossi lumbers into the kitchen in her pink satin robe, her hair a tangled mess. “Is everyone hanging out without me? In my own house?”

“Thought I’d let you sleep in,” I say.

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