Page 13 of Blue Lines and Lullabies

A loud grunt fills the air, followed by a disgusting gurgle, and then a horrendous odor. Cassie lets out a harmonious giggle. “I’ll leave you to it, Daddy.”

“I guess you start tomorrow then, huh,” I call out as she opens my bedroom door and skips down the hall.

“We can discuss a dirty diaper stipend tomorrow.”

Nice.

Cassie

I’ve never had good luck. I know some people say they don’t have any luck, but mine is usually just bad luck. I’m typically a rule follower, but nearly every time I break a rule, I suffer the consequences almost immediately. It’s like that Alanis Morissette song,Isn’t It Ironic. If I run a red light, I’ll get pulled over. If something accidentally gets buried underneath another item as I leave a bulk store, I’ll be selected for a random search at the door. So it really shouldn’t have surprised me that theonetime I had a one-night stand, it turned out to be a teammate of my brother’s,andthe guy who needed me to be a nanny to his newborn daughter.

I was furious when I woke up that morning, and Gabe was nowhere to be found. I thought we had a connection, and I felt so used. Humiliated. Angry. Horribly self-conscious. Was I not any good? Was he that repulsed by my body, or our chemistry? I spent the last two weeks dissecting every tiny detail from that night, wondering what went wrong. Finding out he wanted to surprise me with breakfast, and came back to find me gone, was so on brand for me and my ridiculous bad luck with men.

So now I have to keep it professional. Try not to drool over him when he’s being so dang adorable with Mackenzie. Or fawn over him when he walks around shirtless, which I learned immediately is what he normally does. As if I didn’t have the memory of his pecs tattooed in my brain, now I see them multiple times a day becausethe man does not keep a shirt on.

He really took it to heart that whole ‘skin-to-skin’ thing. Mackenzie seems to quiet down as soon as she’s resting on his heart, and I can’t say I blame her.

I’m not completely complaining, but it’s like shopping without your wallet. I’ve touched the merchandise, but now I can’t look at, or touch it, again. It’s brutal.

By the third day, I began lowering my gaze whenever Gabe walked into my line of vision. I’d make eyes at Mackenzie and act like Gabe didn’t exist. I figured it might be awkward and uncomfortable if I asked him,again, to put a shirt on. What am I allowed to do here? I don’t hate the view. But it makes me think … things. Things I shouldn’t be thinking about my employer. Rather than open it up to discussion, I’m averting my eyes.

I have to hand it to the guys on the hockey team. They really showed up for Gabe. Mackenzie will want for nothing anytime soon. There must be over one thousand diapers stacked against a wall, next to dozens of boxes of wipes. Two cabinets full of formula, bottles, burp cloths, and pacifiers. Gabe’s entire refrigerator is stuffed to the brim with food for him. Quite a few frozen meals, lots of protein drinks, and a ridiculous amount of cheese. The last time my brother stopped by, he whispered that Gabe loves cheese, and it’s a snack he keeps on hand. Evidently he has a tiny cooler for away trips, and packs himself some slices for the plane.

My first test came when Gabe ran a couple of errands by himself, leaving me with Mackenzie for the first time. The sweet girl is still a little unsure of things, and fusses anytime I sit down, so I roam Gabe’s house while patting Mackenzie’s bottom constantly.

“Your daddy is insanely organized,” I murmur as I take a gander at his pantry. Is there something in the water at ice rinks? Every hockey player I’ve ever met has a system for their homes. It’s rare that I find one who isn’t regimented in some aspect of their daily life. My brother has an odd appetite, sure. But he has every inch of his place organized down to the millimeter. He’s like Monica onFriends: if I move a pillow even a half inch over,he will know.

After putting Kenzie down for her nap in Gabe’s room, I catch myself loitering near the large walk-in closet. I’ve never been inside, and the pull to snoop is very enticing. Quietly pushing open the door, I take a quick inhale as I survey the space. This closet is a dream.

Large built-ins cover every wall in a beautiful white oak color, and a massive island with a marble top sits in the middle of the space. Gabe has spread his clothes out to cover all the space, but it’s clear this closet is meant for two people. I take a hesitant step inside, and lights go on underneath the cabinetry automatically, making me gasp as I quickly shut the door so the lights don’t wake Kenzie up. Crap. Now I’m really in here. If Gabe walks in, I have no valid excuse. Oh well.

Taking a look around, I notice his attention to detail and the art of organization. Matching drawers enclose carefully rolled up ties, matched socks, and folded boxer briefs. A large drawer full of perfectly folded T-shirts makes me giggle, knowing the drawer in my room has every article of clothing haphazardly shoved in there.

Suits line one wall, organized in an ombré rainbow of color. I drag my finger down a particularly beautiful suit in burgundy, thinking how amazing it must look on Gabe’s form. I bet all of these suits look gorgeous on him. As I round the island, I find a drawer full of colognes, and I can’t fight the desire to smell each and every one of them until I get a whiff of the one he wore on our night together.

“There it is,” I sigh, as I take a deep breath against the sprayer. I wonder if he’d notice if I took it. I’d love to spray my pillow with it. A maniacal giggle bursts from my mouth as I realize how nuts that sounds. I’m debating on stealing my boss’s cologne so I can use some of it in secret. Good God.

I’ll just buy my own bottle.

“Holy shit, Givenchy? That has to be expensive,” I murmur, whipping out my phone to look up the price. I have a mini heart attack when I see how much it costs. “Two hundred bucks? Absolutely not!”

Nope, we’re back to stealing my boss’s cologne. I’m not dropping that much money on male cologne. The most I’d have spent would be around fifty. Maybe even less.

“Cass?”

Shit. Gabe is home, and I’m creeping like a crazy person in his closet! Quickly exiting the closet, I make it to Gabe’s bedroom door as he reaches it from the other side.

“Shh,” I whisper, quietly closing the door behind me. “I just put her down. She’s been a little fussy this morning.”

“Fuck,” he says sullenly. “I was hoping to give her a bottle before her nap.”

I fight the urge to smile as I watch Gabe pout. “You’ll have so many more opportunities to feed your daughter, Gabe.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I hope it never gets old. I hope I always want to spend every moment with her.”

“I think it’s a choice people make. You can either choose to be positive, and recognize that children grow up fast, or you can think about all the things you feel you’re missing out on from before you became a parent. I like that you’re all in with fatherhood. It looks good on you.” I stop, suddenly embarrassed at my gushing over Gabe, and feel my cheeks heat.

“Thanks, Cass. That means a lot,” he responds quietly. “Want to come downstairs and have some lunch?”

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