Tackled by Lisa Suzanne

CHAPTER 10

I’m in the middle of the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while, probably from all the fresh ocean air, when I’m jolted out of it to the sound of a crying baby close to my ear.

“I’m so sorry,” Jack says softly. “I didn’t want to wake you but I don’t know what else to do. He’s been crying for an hour.”

I squint up at them, the light flooding in from the hallway behind them making them both appear as silhouettes out of a dream. I sit up and rub at my eyes before I register what’s actually happening. I glance at the clock to find it’s a little after two in the morning.

“Is he fed and dry?” I ask, the first two thoughts that come to mind as I toss the covers off.

Despite the situation, Jack’s eyes travel to my body. He takes in the teeny-tiny shorts I sleep in paired with my tight, white Feed Me Tacos and Tell Me I’m Pretty shirt before he nods. “Nice shirt. I heard him crying so I changed his diaper and gave him a bottle. Once he was done eating and I tried to lay him back in his crib, he started screaming and hasn’t stopped. I don’t know what to do.”

“Hand him to me,” I say, ignoring the shirt comment even though my body heats at the way he just checked me out. “Go take a break.”

“I don’t—um, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine,” I say, holding out my arms. “I’ve got this, and you need to keep your sanity.”

Jack hands JJ to me, and I rock him a little as I try to get a look at him to figure out why he’s so upset. He isn’t arching his back, so it’s not reflux. He doesn’t feel warm, so no fever.

“You sure this is okay?” he asks.

I nod. “Go get some sleep, Jack. He’ll be okay.”

He reaches out to squeeze my shoulder before he turns to leave and it’s almost sort of like a hug.

I get up with JJ in my arms and walk him around the bedroom the way I used to do with the kids I nannied for, but he doesn’t stop crying. I sing softly to him, trying my hardest to keep my calm even though the crying of a baby is grating on anyone after a while.

I think through the catalogue of issues I ran into when Miles was little, but I’m a little rusty since it’s been a couple years. He’s about four and a half months old, and I seem to remember a possible sleep regression around that time. There isn’t much to be done for that, as I recall, but he’s also sleeping in a new location, which could be the issue.

I also remember teething started around six months, but I suppose it could start earlier. I head to the bathroom, where I wash one hand and hold him in the other before I reach a finger into his mouth and feel around. One of his gums is definitely swollen, and as soon as he gums down on my finger, he stops crying almost immediately.

I head to his bedroom and find a washcloth, which I wet down and stick in his mouth over the swollen gumline. He chews happily on it for a few beats, the crying done for now.

I set him back into his crib once he starts to close his eyes, and I head back to my own room.

“Is he okay?” Jack’s voice startles me in the silence of the hallway, and I let out a gasp as I jump, startled.

“Oh my God, you scared me.”

He takes a step toward me and runs his hand along my back. “Sorry.” It’s meant to be a friendly gesture, a quick backrub to calm my frazzled nerves after that scare, but it comes out as something more than friendly.

“I think he’s teething,” I say. “Have you noticed any extra drool?”

He shrugs. “He’s a baby. There’s pretty much always drool.”

I chuckle at his assessment of the truth. “His gums felt a little swollen. I think teething usually starts closer to six months, but I’m sure it’s not uncommon for it to happen younger.”

“That’s my boy,” he says with a wry smile. “Already performing ahead of the average.”

I smile. “That does sound like you.”

“Well thank you for figuring it out. I panicked.”

“You? Panic? Pfft,” I scoff.

“Brooke takes care of a lot of these middle of the night issues. I hate missing shit, but I’m away so much...anyway, I didn’t know what to do. I thought about calling her to see what she’d do, but it’s two in the morning. I didn’t want to wake you, either.” His tone is apologetic, and his eyes sweep down my body again, branding me with their heat.

“It’s not a problem, Jack. Any time you need anything, it’s fine to wake me.” His eyes move to mine, and the heat between us is turning into an inferno now. I do mean any time, too—and in any situation—but I decide not to exacerbate the fire already burning between us. “If you want, you can put a monitor in my room so I can hear if he gets up again. Let’s call either Brooke or his pediatrician in the morning and find out if it’s okay to give him children’s Tylenol for the pain. Teething can be a real bitch.”

“Okay,” he says. “Thanks again for being the baby whisperer.”

I laugh. “Any time, Mr. Dalton.”

His eyes light up a little, and this strange, intimate beat passes between us where I feel like we’re more than just two people being forced into a situation together.

I almost think for a second that he’s going to lean in and kiss me, but he seems to think better of it.

“Goodnight, Kia.” His voice is all hot and raspy as he takes a step back, and I wish I could just drop my panties and take him here in this hallway.

Instead, I bid him goodnight in return. “It’s Kate. And goodnight, JD-Five.”