Page 35 of Marrying the Nanny

“She has different cries?” His tone asked if there was no end to the learning curve.

She bit back a smile. “You’ll start to recognize them. She’s a little whiny right now because she’d rather be sleeping. And the way she’s turning her face into you? She’s looking for your nipple.”

“Good luck, sweetheart. I can see how convenient it would be to have it on tap, though.” He nodded at the things Emma gathered from the cupboard. “I can do it.”

“I’ll hold her, then,” she offered.

“I can do it,” he repeated, starting to make the bottle with the fussy baby squirming in his arm.

“I actually want to hold her,” Emma said, standing there with her hands still outstretched. “You’ll get it made faster and she’ll be happier sooner.”

He hesitated, then handed her over.

Emma snuggled her close to the heart that eased with the press of Storm’s restless body against it. Her little mouth rooted against Emma’s cheek and she chuckled. “I know. Reid’s making it. It won’t be long.”

Storm stuffed her fist in her mouth and cried around it.

“Might be a growth spurt.”

Reid’s economical movements as he set the bottle into the warmer faltered. His shoulders flexed beneath his T-shirt as he ran a hand over his hair and swore lightly.

“How do you know these things? Is there a website?”

“About a million of them.” She smiled at his back. Such a perfect V down to his rock-solid butt in loose pajama pants. He turned and she was staring at—

She jerked her gaze upward. Her cheeks tingled.

“I learned from being around my niece and nephew. All my friends were having kids while I was—” Trying to get pregnant. “I’ve been around a lot of babies.”

“I haven’t been around kids since I was one. Not more than standing in line behind a mom getting coffee.” He came and took Storm from her, held her up so they were eye to eye.

“Is that the issue? You want a low-fat latte?” he asked her.

Storm burbled her cries as she rocked her wet fist against her mouth.

The timer on the warmer dinged, and he shouldered Storm while he removed it. He tested the temperature against his wrist the way Emma had shown him, then licked the formula away. His expression said there was no accounting for taste, but he settled Storm in his arm, offering her the bottle.

She took it greedily.

“I don’t mind feeding her if you want to catch up on your sleep,” she offered. She had heard him tell his brothers he would go into the office this morning to play catch-up, even though it was Sunday. He would be back in the afternoon to help with the kitchen.

“I’m good,” Reid insisted.

She gave a little chuckle. “Logan and Trystan keep saying you’re a control freak who has to do everything yourself. Is it true? Because you’re paying me to help you.”

“I didn’t give anyone permission to tell you that.” His lip curled with self-deprecation, and he sighed. “Guilty as charged and not likely to be rehabilitated. My mom has mental health issues.” He glanced at her, seeming to gauge how much she might have heard on that topic.

Emma looked to her bare toes. “Sophie told me why you came to live here. It was when I first came here and was asking her about my new employers. It wasn’t meant as gossip.”

“It’s not a secret,” he said flatly.

“How is she? Your mom?”

“This has thrown her off pretty bad.”

“Depressed? Or…?”

“It’s a roller coaster. She’s tried different medications over the years, but she doesn’t like the side effects. Or she takes them and feels better and thinks that means she doesn’t need them anymore. There’s no permanent solution. I always have to be ready to pivot and step in so I keep the rest of my life in tight order.”

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