Page 10

Chapter Nine

brYSON

T he pen tapped steadily against the clipboard in my hands, an outward sign of my frazzled nerves. I’d already filled out the forms and attached a copy of the affidavit from the lawyer stating that we were Chloe’s guardians. I glanced down at my watch, sighing when I realized it had only been two minutes since the last time I’d checked.

Tucker had Chloe cradled in his arms, her tiny head leaning on his shoulder, cheeks red with fever and her eyes watery. I’d never seen anything quite so heart-wrenching and adorable. “Feels like her fever’s gone up,” he said, feeling her forehead with his cheek.

“Hopefully, it’s just because she’s cutting teeth. I read that can happen,” I replied, though neither of us really knew.

A door opened, and a nurse gestured us back. She led us into an examination room, where she weighed Chloe, took her temperature—which was a worrisome 102.3—and asked us a series of questions. “The doctor will be in soon,” she assured us before slipping out of the room.

Tucker sat in the bright yellow chair beside the exam table, shifting Chloe in his lap. I found myself watching them as if I were miles away, the way he bounced his knee to keep her entertained, her small hand tugging at his collar. A tightness grew in my chest, the kind you get when something’s both beautiful and terrible. He looked up and smiled in a way that hit me like sunshine. “Are you okay?” he asked.

I managed a nod.

A few minutes later, there was a gentle knock, and the door opened, revealing the doctor who was younger than I’d expected, maybe late twenties, her eyes kind and her smile disarming. “Hello. I’m so sorry to hear about Chloe’s parents,” she said as she quickly washed her hands at the sink. She dried them then turned to shake our hands. “My name is Dr. Tillman. I’ve been Chloe’s doctor since she was born.”

I liked her immediately. There was a softness about her that made me feel like Chloe was in very good hands. We took turns introducing ourselves and then she asked us what was going on with Chloe.

“She’s been fussy, not sleeping much, and she woke up this morning with a fever. We thought maybe it was from teething, but it seemed too high for that,” Tucker explained, worry etched across his face. It was all I could do not to jump in with a million details, just in case he missed something.

“Let’s have a look, shall we?” Dr. Tillman made a silly face at Chloe as she pressed the stethoscope against her chest. Chloe whimpered, and Tucker flinched. “Her heart and lungs sound good. Any vomiting or diarrhea?”

“Some loose stools,” I said, because that was the kind of disgusting thing I found myself saying now.

“Appetite?” Dr. Tillman glanced over at me, a trace of amusement in her eyes.

“She’s been cranky,” Tucker answered. “Not much interest in the bottle.”

The doctor pulled some sort of instrument out of her pocket. It had a light on it, and she used it to peer inside Chloe’s nose and mouth. When she moved to her ears, Chloe started to cry, waving her hands in the air as if trying to push the doctor away. My hands fisted in my lap as I fought the urge to snatch the little girl up and run out of the room with her.

“I see what’s going on,” Dr. Tillman said, leaning back. “And you’re right about the fever, it’s from a double ear infection.” My heart dropped like a lead balloon. “She’s eating less because it probably hurts to swallow. Teething doesn’t help, but we’ll have her feeling better in no time. She’s healthy otherwise, just needs some antibiotics.”

Healthy. It was the first word I’d let myself cling to since I’d woken that morning and discovered her fever. Tucker kept talking to the doctor, his calm confidence both reassuring and annoying, but I remained stuck on the word healthy. My mind drifted to all the worst-case scenarios I’d been obsessing over, checking her temperature like a maniac, imagining CPS knocking on the door because we couldn’t get her to stop crying. I rubbed my face, the scrape of the stubble I hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, rough against my palms.

Dr. Tillman’s voice broke through my fog. “...doing a great job with her.”

I must’ve looked skeptical because she stopped and gave me a serious look, the kind you’d give a kid who swore Santa wasn’t real. “Bryson,” she said, and my name sounded so much like relief that I couldn’t help but believe her. “I know how worried you must be, but I promise, she’s going to be just fine.” Tucker reached over and squeezed my hand, and for the first time all morning, I started to breathe.

We wrapped up the appointment with a prescription and instructions to give her Tylenol for the pain. Tucker jotted everything down on his phone, and I couldn’t help but hover, sure he’d miss some details, and I’d have to call the doctor’s office in a panic. Dr. Tillman said to let Chloe eat as much as she could, but not to worry if she didn’t have much of an appetite for the next day or two.

“Once she’s better, you can start introducing more solids,” she said, pointing to a pamphlet about table foods. It was the first time I’d considered feeding her anything more complicated than formula or watery baby cereal, and a wave of inadequacy crashed over me.

“Simple things,” Dr. Tillman said as if reading my mind. “Start with mashed bananas, maybe some pureed fruits and vegetables.”

“And this has information on all of that?” I was definitely that parent, the one with too many questions and not enough confidence.

“It’s all in there,” she promised. “And you can always call.”

Chloe whimpered as we stood to leave. She looked so small in Tucker’s arms, and it was still weird to think of her as our responsibility. A huge responsibility. The hugest. He rubbed her back gently, and she settled, eyes closing but not quite asleep.

“Thanks,” I said to Dr. Tillman, feeling inadequate but hopeful. “I just—thanks.”

She reached out and squeezed my arm. “You’re welcome. And try not to worry so much. Brooke and Zach were fantastic parents. They wouldn’t have left Chloe with you two unless they truly believed you could handle it.”

I shot her a watery smile, blinking back tears as her words found a home deep inside my heart. She was right, Brooke and Zach would never have entrusted us to raise Chloe unless they were sure we would do the best job possible. Something settled inside me, and I walked out of the doctor’s office with a newfound confidence.

Chloe squirmed like a wild animal, her cries increasing in volume, and my earlier confidence lagged in the face of a sick baby. The changing table felt too high, too unstable, like she might slip through my hands, and a stress headache had formed at the back of my skull. I had to close my eyes for a second to block it all out. A long second.

“Need help?” Tucker called from the doorway, twisting open the bottle of medicine. His sleeves were pushed up, forearms looking unfairly sexy for a guy giving medicine to a baby.

“Maybe just a little?” I admitted, pressing my lips to Chloe’s forehead. She was still so warm. The smell of artificial strawberries hung thick in the air as he crossed the room and handed me the stopper. Chloe kicked and cried, and pink syrup shot everywhere, running down her chin and into the crease of her neck. I wasn’t even sure how much had actually made it into her mouth.

“It’s all over my shirt!” Tucker yelped, but he was laughing as I glanced down at myself.

“Mine too. Guess we’ll have to do more laundry.”

“I just started a load. I’ll throw these in with the next one,” he offered.

I shot him a grateful look as I grabbed a wipe and began cleaning her face. She was still whimpering, and every sound felt like a dagger to my heart. I hated feeling so helpless when she was hurting, but we were doing everything Dr. Tillman suggested.

I wiped at the pink liquid on my shirt, but all I managed was to make more of a mess. Tucker picked up Chloe, cradling her close despite the goo all over him, and I had to smile at the sight. It was endearing, his whole-hearted way of being, like nothing fazed him and he could handle whatever the world threw at him.

He grinned at me, blue eyes bright and mischievous. “You should leave it. I kind of like the pink tie-dye look on you.”

I rolled my eyes and took Chloe back, stripping off her stained onesie. “I think I prefer a more classic look, thank you very much.” We got her cleaned up and changed, new jammies that were pale lavender with tiny clouds all over them. I was a sticky mess, my shirt looked like a three-year-old’s finger painting, and I hadn’t felt more exhausted in my entire life, but somehow, I couldn’t find it in myself to care. All that mattered was making sure Chloe was comfortable.

“Nice job, Uncle Bry,” Tucker said, offering his fist for a bump.

I knocked it with my own, a reluctant laugh escaping me. “Think I should quit my day job?” I asked as I slipped out of my shirt, leaving me in just a white under shirt.

“Definitely.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it in a way that somehow made him even more handsome.

I settled into the rocking chair, Chloe resting against my chest. Her cries softened to little whimpers, then to the occasional hiccup as her eyes started to close. Tucker left the room, only to return a few moments later with a bottle and a couple of waters tucked under his arm.

He handed me the bottle and took a long drink from his water, sitting on the floor with his back against the dresser. I noticed he’d changed into a pair of sweats and a soft looking blue t-shirt that paired nicely with the color of his eyes.

I watched Chloe, her little chest rising and falling as she drank the last of her bottle, the warmth of her like an anchor. Her face was still pink with fever, but she was peaceful as she finally fell asleep, and I wondered if this was what love felt like. If it was possible to love someone this much and still be afraid you’d never get it right.

Tucker took another drink, watching us like he was part of some exclusive club and didn’t know how he’d gotten in. “You’re a natural, you know.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him I was barely hanging on, but he looked so sincere that I couldn’t. Instead, I whispered, “Thanks. It helps that she’s so perfect.”

“Agreed,” he whispered back, his grin making his eyes crinkle at the edges. There was no denying it—Chloe had us both well and truly wrapped around her little finger.

By the time I laid her down in the crib, her fever was still holding strong, but so were we. We were really in this together. The house was quiet, the only sounds were the occasional car passing by and a dog barking in the distance. It was peaceful and I realized I was no longer just here because I needed to be, but because I wanted to be.

The night was long as we kept vigil, neither of us able to sleep for fear we might not hear Chloe if she needed us. The tiniest sound came over the baby monitor as she stirred and Tucker was up and moving, crossing the living room with quick steps that belied his usual calm. “I’ve got her,” he said.

I listened for signs of relief, held my breath until it hurt, and then I heard it—soft, familiar shushing sound as he tried to sooth her. “Still have a fever, don’t you, baby girl,” he cooed.

I checked my watch. Time for more medicine. I was up in a flash, grabbing the Tylenol off the counter and racing up the stairs. Chloe was still pretty sleepy, so we managed to get the medicine in without losing too much. I checked her diaper which was still dry then stood there, watching her as she fell back to sleep.

I stayed there until Tucker pried me away with a gentle hand on my arm. “Come on, let’s let her sleep.”

“Do you think the meds are working?” I asked when we were back downstairs. I hated how vulnerable I sounded.

“Fever’s still there, but it’s down some, so they must be,” he assured me. “You think this gets easier?” he asked, rubbing his hands over his face as he plopped down on the couch.

I joined him on the couch, feeling the heat from his body. “God, I hope so.”

He laughed, a low rumble. We passed the hours like that, taking turns checking on her and keeping each other company, and with each pass between the nursery and the living room, we moved more in sync. Soon enough, we’d settled into a rhythm that made it feel like we’d been doing this forever.

“You ever think about this...” I trailed off. Tucker watched me, his head cocked curiously as he waited for me to finish. “Before, I mean. Did you ever think about all of this?” I asked. “Family. A kid. Settling down.”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” He leaned back, looked up at the ceiling, then back at me. His smile was slow, thoughtful. “But I’m liking it more than I thought.” I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. “What about you?” he asked.

I shrugged, grabbing one of the throw pillows and pulling it into my lap, so I’d have something to do with my hands. I smiled softly at the memories that filled my head. “Brooke and I used to play dress up all the time as kids. She would be the mommy, and I was the daddy, and we had anywhere from ten to fifteen kids, depending on the day.”

Tucker’s laugh rumbled up from his chest, deep and rich. “Holy shit! That’s a lot of kids.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, it was. There was always a lot of crying and somehow, I always wound up having to change their diapers when they pooped.”

“Of course.”

“Anyway, I guess playing house like that just kind of got stuck in my head and I grew up expecting it to come true. That one day I’d meet a man, fall in love, start a family, and we’d live happily ever after. Only…”

“Only what?” he asked, watching me intently.

I stared down at my lap, avoiding his stare as I traced my fingertip over the patterns on the pillow. “Only I hadn’t factored in my constant need for order, my need to establish some semblance of control over each and every situation.”

“What does that have to do with you getting your happily ever after?”

I huffed out a humorless laugh. “Turns out that when a guy strips and you’re about to have sex, he doesn’t like it when you stop and ask him to fold his clothes and placed them neatly on a chair first, so you can concentrate.”

Tucker’s eyes grew comically wide as he barked out a laugh. “You did not.”

“I did,” I answered with a wince.

His laughter faded as he studied my face. “Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed. That must have been really tough.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “It's fine. I mean, it's kind of funny when you think about it.”

“Maybe,” he said softly. “But it clearly hurt you.”

His perceptiveness caught me off guard. I swallowed hard, fighting the lump in my throat. “Yeah, well. Let's just say my dating history is pretty sparse. Most guys aren't into neurotic clean freaks who need everything organized.”

He was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was firm. “Then they weren't worth your time anyway.”

I looked up, startled by the conviction in his tone.

“I'm serious,” he continued. “If a guy can't handle something as simple as that, then he's not worth having around anyway. There's nothing wrong with you or the rules you set for yourself. The right person will understand and appreciate those parts of you.”

His words washed over me, soothing an ache I hadn't realized was still so raw. “Thanks,” I managed, my voice rough.

He reached out, squeezing my shoulder. The warmth of his hand seeped through my shirt, and I found myself leaning into the touch. “I mean it, Bry. You’re an amazing man. You deserve someone who gets you. All of you.”

Our eyes met, and something electric passed between us. My breath caught in my throat as I noticed how the soft light from the lamp caught the flecks of grey in his eyes. I felt a flutter in my chest as he held my gaze. There was something in his eyes, warmth and understanding that made me want to lean in closer. The moment stretched between us, charged with possibility.

A cry from the baby monitor shattered the silence. We both jumped, the spell broken. “I'll go,” he said, standing quickly.

I watched him head up the stairs, my heart still racing. What was that? I shook my head, trying to clear the fog of attraction and exhaustion. This was Tucker—my best friend's brother in-law, my co-guardian. Sure, I found him incredibly attractive, but I couldn't be developing actual feelings for him. Could I?

I distracted myself by tidying up, straightening pillows and folding blankets. When he returned, he was wearing a triumphant grin. “Her fever finally broke!”

Relief washed over me as I reached out to feel Chloe's forehead for myself. It was cool under my palm. “Thank god.” I breathed out a long breath, like I’d been holding it all of this time.

Tucker gently swayed, rubbing Chloe's back. “I think the worst is over,” he said softly. I nodded, unable to take my eyes off them. He looked so natural with her, his large hand spanning her tiny back, his eyes soft as he gazed down at her. A wave of tenderness swept through me, catching me off guard with its intensity.

“Want a turn?” he asked, noticing my stare.

“Yeah,” I said, carefully lifting Chloe into my arms. She grinned at me and I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling her sweet baby scent.

“I’m going to warm a bottle. Why don’t you try and get some sleep when I get back?”

“Are you sure? You’ve been up as long as I have.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, reaching out to rub a finger along the baby’s soft cheek. “I need some more time with her. Make sure she’s really all right before I go to sleep.”

I nodded, understanding completely. As Tucker headed to the kitchen, I sank into a chair with Chloe, marveling at how much lighter my heart felt now that her fever had broken. She cooed softly, her tiny hands reaching up to pat my face. I couldn't help but smile, overwhelmed by the rush of love I felt for this little girl.

When he returned with the bottle, I reluctantly handed her over. Our fingers brushed as we made the exchange, and I felt that same spark from earlier. I watched as he settled into the chair, cradling Chloe close as he offered her the bottle. The tenderness in his expression made my breath catch.

“You should get some rest,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving the little girl’s face. “I've got this.”

I nodded, suddenly aware of the bone-deep exhaustion that had settled into my body. As I turned to head upstairs, I caught sight of myself in the hallway mirror. My hair was a mess, my eyes ringed with dark circles, and there was still a faint pink stain on my neck from the medicine mishap. But my heart felt fuller than it ever had.