Page 38 of Exposed

I check my phone. Forty minutes have passed since Pepper brought me the bottle. Feeding, burping and rocking a baby to sleep is no joke.

It’s silent on the walk to Pepper’s room, and I’m guessing she fell asleep. I’m such a goner that I already think of it as Pepper’s room.

When I get to her doorway, I find my suspicions are correct. The heating pad is resting on her stomach, so I gently remove it and turn it off, then pull the covers over her sleeping form.

“Sweet dreams, Pepper,” I whisper when I get to her doorway. Half of me wants to stay with her to make sure she doesn’t have a nightmare again.

But if Simon wakes up, Shani will lose her shit barking. That’ll wake up Pepper, and at least one of us should get sleep.

The next morningafter another sleepless night, I have a renewed respect for parents. Stay at home parents. Working parents, every single parent with a baby. This is nuts.

I made the mistake of Googling “when do babies start sleeping through the night,” and I got all sorts of conflicting answers. Yet another question to add to the list for the upcoming pediatrician appointment.

I don’t have to work until later today, so I make breakfast for us again. Pepper is working today, and I don’t want her leaving with an empty stomach.

“Do you have any days off this week?” I ask when she comes in the kitchen.

“Nope,” she shakes her head and her ponytail swishes. I’m going to grab it one of these days, and it’s going to be fucking amazing.

“Damn. You’re committed,” I note.

“Something like that,” she mumbles. “A ladies’ association luncheon and fundraiser needs me today.”

“Do you want coffee?” I ask, then pour her a cup when she nods.

Simon is chilling in the baby rocker I got him, and Shani is laying next to him.

“Morning, Simon.” Pepper bends down to play with his hand, and he coos at her.

Yeah, buddy. I love her attention, too.

I’ve been thinking how to phrase my thoughts so she doesn’t get bothered again. Something they did or said last night triggered her. Hopefully, what I thought of works. “My parents will be here again tonight. You seemed upset last night by something my parents did. Can you clue me in so I can tell them not to do it again today?”

She takes a deep breath, then traces her fingertip around the coffee mug as she says, “Your parents are great, Matt. It’s not them. It’s me.”

That gives me zero answers, and I raise my eyebrows quizzically.

“I’m fine,” she insists.

Fine never means fine when a woman says it. However, if she won’t tell me, I can’t help her. Switching tactics, I change the subject.

“I talked with my friend Hope. Her and her husband Noah are coming to visit soon. They want to meet Simon.”

She nods in understanding. “I can leave, so you’ll have the guest room.”

Shit. Why does she always think I’m kicking her out? “No, Pepper. That’s not why I told you. They’re married, and Hope is basically a sister to me. No way do I want to hear them going at it. She already told me they’re getting a hotel room.”

“Oh,” her forehead wrinkles with worry. “Okay.”

“It would be cool for you to hang out with us when they’re here,” I explain.

“Are they as happy as you and your parents?” She asks.

“Noah can be grumpy, but Hope is the happiest person you’ll probably ever meet.”

She gets quiet, and I tell her there’s breakfast for her in the microwave. Maybe she misses her friends and family from where she used to live.

“Are you homesick, Pepper?” I ask.

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