Page 13 of Three of a Kind

I’m being ridiculous, so I pull my shoulders back and go check on my kid.

Chapter Five

Noble

Libby curls up at my side with her sippy cup of milk. She picked at her dinner, but she was more interested in the orange. There’s a story there. I’m just not sure what it is.

“I like this show,” the little lady says, flicking at my T-shirt with her small fingers.

“Me too.” I chuckle. “Who doesn’t love superhero puppies?”

“Yeah.” She stares at the television, entranced by the show.

I’ve got nieces and nephews.

Being around kids doesn’t make me uncomfortable, but I’m also not used to hanging out with toddlers.

Normally, my sisters would be the ones to ensure any kids I’m around stay alive, but I like to think I’m winning at this whole babysitting thing.

Libby’s a good kid.

She’s easier to look after than my nieces and nephews, but that might be because there’s only one of her.

It doesn’t hurt that she’s always happy to see me. It’s a hell of a serotonin boost to run into her and her mom in the hall and see her smiling face as she tosses herself at my knees.

No one is ever that happy to run into me.

Not to mention, the way Brooklyn lights up when she spots me.

The poor woman can’t catch a fucking break. Not that having another kid is a problem, but honestly, it seems like she’s already got more on her plate than she can handle.

She’s also what I would consider young to be a mom of two.

It’s not unusual for omegas to have kids early in their twenties, but they almost always have a pack at their back to help financially and to split childcare.

Hell, all four of my sisters had kids by twenty-three, but they were also bonded.

I’m pushing thirty-two, which means I’ve got ten years on the little omega.

I’ve never put any real thought into having kids, but I guess I want a family one day.

It’s something I should consider before I’m too old to enjoy them.

“I’m gonna play with my toys,” Libby says, dropping her sippy cup right on my balls as she slides off the couch.

I grunt, grabbing the cup. “You’re a dangerous creature.”

She takes off. “I gotta go potty first!”

I put the cup on the coffee table and frown. I’m definitely not equipped to help with that.

“You know how to handle that on your own, right?” I ask, leaning my forearms on my knees.

Flipping on the light in the hall bathroom, she calls, “Yes, I can do it.”

“Okay, good.” Damn, maybe I am out of my depth with even simple babysitting.

The door stays open, but I keep my ass planted on the couch.

---