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“She won’t bite you. Well, she might, but she’s just a baby. It won’t hurt much.”
“I don’t do babies,” Gunner bit out.
“You do now. I need to dry off and put my shirt on, and I can’t do that while I’m holding her.” He thrust the baby into Gunner’s arms, not caring whether the big bad commando liked it or not.
Dried and dressed, he emerged from the bathroom to see Gunner staring down at the little girl, who looked up at him solemnly, as if she was deciding whether to scream her head off or accept this stranger.
“We’ll need to get her food and diapers pretty soon.”
Gunner lurched. “She could pee on me?”
“There are worse things in life, dude. It washes off. I’m going to rinse out her clothes and use the blow dryer on them, so you’re going to have to hold the small alien being a bit longer. We’ll probably need to get her new clothes too, but in the meantime, she needs something to wear. Hence the impromptu laundry. Unless you’re willing to stay here with her alone and let me run out to shop for her real fast.”
“Uhh, no. You stay with her. I’ll shop.”
“Do you know what size clothes she wears? Or what size diapers? And while we’re at it, what do eighteen-month-olds eat?”
Gunner scowled. “Fine. Wash her clothes and then we’ll go out together. I don’t want to let either of you out of my sight.”
Chas looked up quickly. “Do you think we’re in danger here? We’re nowhere close to Misty Falls.”
Gunner shrugged. “The baby was last seen in the arms of a woman who died on your porch. If this kid is, in fact, the reason the shooters went on their rampage, they’ll know by now that you’re the guy who owns that porch. They’ll have to assume you took the kid and ran. You said they came back and shot up your house, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then they’re after you. No, they won’t know where to start looking, but there are ways to find people. They can hack credit card systems and closed-circuit TV cameras. Use facial recognition programs… hell, even pay informants.”
“I get the idea.”
“Thus, I stick to you two like glue until we figure out what’s going on.”
Chas gulped. “Who are they? Who would shoot up a town over a little kid?”
“Depends on who the kid is, I suppose. Her diaper wasn’t full of diamonds or anything, was it?”
“No. Just pee and a little poop.”
“TMI, man. TMI.”
“Oh, you think you’re dodging changing diapers, do you, big guy? You can let go of that idea right now. If we’re babysitting this kid for any length of time, you get to pull your fair share of daddy duty.”
For the first time since Gunner had walked into that office last night, Chas saw fear—stark, cold terror, actually—pass across Gunner’s face. The chiseled jaw tensed, and the laugh wrinkles around Gunner’s eyes tightened in stress.
Chas took pity and held out his arms. “I’ll take the baby so you can put on your shirt. You know, we need a name for her. We can’t just keep calling her ‘the kid.’”
Gunner’s face emerged from his shirt, and the blank look on his face made Chas grin and tease, “Feeling a little out of your depth when it comes to baby names?”
“Fuck off, Reed.”
Chas grinned.
“You teach kindergarten, right? You know all the kid names. You pick one.”
Chas considered. “Her shirt has a big red flower on it, kind of like a poppy. How about we call her Poppy?”
“I like it.”
“You actually have an opinion about it? Huh. Maybe your soul isn’t totally cold and dead after all.”