Page 81 of The Bartender's Baby

He fussed a bit but settled when I had him in the crook of my arm, holding him away from me a little so each kid could get up close and personal.

“He’s so cute,” Scarlett cooed. Even Sebastian—too cool for school—seemed taken with the little guy.

“Here!” Finn thrust a cookie—a real cookie that I suspected came from somewhere on the floor—at George’s mouth, making him squirm and whine.

“Buddy, don’t do that,” I said, nudging Finn’s hand away.

Liam scooped up his son. “Where did you find this cookie? It’s garbage.”

Finn stuck it in his mouth, and Liam rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, his mouth forming words I couldn’t hear but understood clearly, nonetheless.

I smothered a laugh as I brought Frog up to my shoulder, telling the kids, “Go on and play. You’ll have lots of time to hang out with him later.”

They scattered, and my friends all nodded at me.

I smiled. This dad thing was totally easy.

TWENTY-FIVE

NATE

This dad thing was totally fucked.

George was over a month old, and Tabby’s last semester of school was about to start. It was only a few hours a week on campus, and it was easy to work my schedule around her classes.

I’d taken care of Frogger on my own before and never had a problem, especially since he was more solid now. He went from being tiny and entirely too breakable to a stone. My little man was a brick.

Since he loved to be held, the sling we’d bought got a lot of use. Anytime Tabby wasn’t feeding or cuddling with him, I usually had him in that thing. He did the house chores with me and even came to Walt’s one time when I had to meet the HVAC people there. I got so much done as long as he was strapped to my chest.

Which was why I didn’t think anything about Tabitha leaving today to meet with her adviser at school. A couple hours away? No big deal.

Until a summer storm hit.

It came on without warning. Or maybe a little bit of warning since Tab did ask me to find her an umbrella since her weather app called for rain.

With lightning and thunder hitting every other minute, Lucy was losing her goddamn mind, and the more she barked, the more George cried.

I didn’t know who to help first.

I put Frog in his crib in his bedroom with the sound machine and fan on, hoping I would calm him down so I could get Lucy’s thunder jacket, which did shit all because she wouldn’t calm down enough to let me put her in it.

My attempts to swaddle George tightly were futile, his little face scrunched up in distress, and I struggled to juggle both him and Lucy, swaying back and forth with George pressed against my chest as I tried to wrangle a trembling Lucy. She squirmed in my grasp, letting out sharp yelps with each rumble of thunder. George’s cries rose in pitch, tiny fists waving.

I tried to give George a bottle, but he wasn’t interested in anything besides wailing, which didn’t help Lucy’s anxiety. They fed off each other. The more Luce barked, the more George cried, and the more he cried, the more she barked.

An endless fucking circle that slowly crushed my soul.

At the end of my rope, I tossed the sling on and put Lucy in it, bouncing up and down, and she quieted. Then I picked up George, kissing his cheek. “It’s okay, Frog. It’s okay.” I held him against my shoulder, cradling his butt in one hand and his downy head in the other. “I got you. Shh. I got you.”

After a few laps around the house, I had them both settled, though Lucy still panted against my chest, and George whimpered into my neck. As I completed yet another loop around the dining room table, the front door opened.

“Nate?”

“Oh, thank god.” I’d never felt such relief in my life.

Tabby stepped out of her shoes as I bounce-walked toward the front door. She froze mid-stride, eyes trailing over the scene in front of her, a slight frown marring her lips. “What’s going on?”

I shook my head, at a loss for words.

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