Page 79 of Surrender

“Do you mind watching her?” Bree asks Cortney, peeking over her shoulder at her little girl.

“Not at all.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right back.” She rushes off with a rosy flush painting her cheeks.

I raise an eyebrow at Corjan. “She alright?”

“She’s good. New mom stuff. Charlotte’s been going through a growth spurt so we’ve been taking turns getting up at night. Last night was a little rough.”

“I don’t have any idea what that’s like,” I say.

“Really?” Jude bumps into my left elbow. “There aren’t any babies keeping you awake at night?”

I frown. “Actually, no. Bennett’s been sleeping great, as far as I’m aware. That night at the motel appears to be a one-off.”

“Lucky for you. It’s a lot more intense when you’re in the middle of it,” Cortney says, giving Charlotte a little bounce.

I eye Corjan as he stalks off down the hall. “I’m prepared if it happens again.”

“Prepared how?” Jude asks.

I glance over at him and smirk.

“I’ll never tell.”

“Sounds like a load of bullshit to me,” he replies.

“What’s bullshit?” Mom pops up on the other side of Lee. Her red lipstick matches her sweater, and she has a Santa hat tilted on her head. Her eyes glitter beneath the red and green lights strung across the ceiling beams.

“Just Jack here thinking he can manage a crying baby,” Lee joins in.

“I’m sorry, who’s the only one who’s watched Charlotte overnight? Me.” I paste on a smug smile.

“Would you like an award?” Cortney tilts her head.

I scratch the bridge of my nose with my middle finger. She laughs so loud Charlotte startles.

“I’m sure Jack is doing a fantastic job with those kids.” Mom pats my shoulder.

Tension creeps up my neck. “Whoa, I thought we were talking about Charlotte here.”

My siblings mutter lines of defense. After that the conversation trails off to other holiday plans.

Bree and Corjan reappear, missing the discussion of their baby by minutes. Bree strokes her fingers over Charlotte’s hair. My tense expression melts into a contented one.

“I have to hand it to you. The two of you did good with this one.” I study a sleeping Charlotte over Cortney’s shoulder.

My sister turns her chin to me. “Why do you say it like that?”

I take a swig from the blue beer can in my hand and shrug. “Kids aren’t really my thing.”

I lick my lips and feel heavy eyes on me belonging to Bree, Corjan, and Mom.

Three weeks ago, they would have laughed, joking about how I was allergic to children. They would have asked if I’d ever even held one and grilled me over my knowledge of diaper changes. Now, they see right through the phony facade.

A shriek from the front door halts any rebuttals to my erroneous assertion. A blast of frigid air accompanies the noise inside. Our eyes swing in that direction as Whitney and the kids take shelter from the cold.

I can’t help the way my eyes trace her body from her black winter boots along the curves of the denim clinging to her legs. Her black jacket is cinched tight around her waist and zipped to her collarbones, hiding what I know to be underneath.

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