Page 472 of The Winslow Brothers

I don’t know if I can fall asleep knowing he’s just out here…on my couch.

“College football is on,” Remy says with a shrug. “It’s not like I’d be doing anything different at home.”

Considering him closely, I can see that he’s not going to take no for an answer at this point. Whether I like it or not, Remy is here to stay, and I…well, I have the freedom to take a nap.

“Her formula and bottles are in the kitchen,” I tell him in a rush. “But she shouldn’t be hungry for at least another two hours or so. But if she is, she’s been taking five ounces. And she did have a little bit of a diaper rash, so use some of the Aquaphor that’s near the diapers and wipes on her changing table if you have to change her.”

“Five ounces of formula. Aquaphor for diaper rash. Got it,” he responds, but when I don’t move, he adds, “It’s all good in the baby hood, Ri. Promise. I’ve got it covered.”

I nod then, succumbing to the inevitable and handing him the remote from the side table.

“If you need anything—”

“I’ll manage,” he interrupts gently. “Go rest.”

I nod again and retreat back down the hallway, climbing into the center of my bed and pulling the big white comforter over myself. I spend about two minutes feeling weird and wondering if I’ll be able to shut my brain off, and then suddenly and without warning, I’m out.

Checked out from the world and any and all chaos in it.

And it’s all thanks to the handsome knight in perfectly washed-out denim in my living room.

Remy

When Maria comes out from her two-hour nap, she looks like a different person. The light and life I’ve come to know in her eyes are back, and her shoulders aren’t slumped toward the ground anymore.

Izzy, on the other hand, is sleeping calmly in her swing that’s remained at a gentle, back-and-forth lull since I put her in it again twenty minutes ago.

“She’sstillsleeping?” are the first words Maria says.

“Well, technically, she’sbackto sleeping after I gave her a bottle and changed her,” I admit with a wink. “Feeling better?”

“So much.” She rounds the sofa and coffee table and takes a seat in one of the plush white chairs on the other side. “Honestly, I don’t even know what to say to you. Thank you doesn’t feel like enough.”

I smile. “No need to say anything, babe. Happy to help.” I’d like to tell her that I wish she’d called me sooner, but on the outside chance that it adds to her stress, I don’t. I don’t want her to feel like she’s failed somehow by waiting it out.

She fought the good fight, and she called when she needed me. That’s all that matters.

Seemingly awakened from a deep slumber, she peers around the apartment, her eyes widening and catching on the mess. “Dear God. It looks like a bomb went off in here.”

“No, it looks like a child lives here. Trust me. Even my sister had a messy house during Lexi’s infancy. And she’s like a machine.”

“I just… I don’t normally live like this,” she says then, a mild bout of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

“Maria, stop. Seriously. I’m a forty-four-year-old bachelor. You think I keep my place pristine all the time?” I shake my head. “Not a chance.”

When her eyes flit over the mess again, I know I’m going to have to remove her from the space if there’s any hope of preserving the rest and relaxation I’ve managed to get her to take.

“Listen, I think we should get out. Get some fresh air. Exercise our lungs. That sort of thing.”

“What did you have in mind? I didn’t do my hair after the shower or anything,” she says, and a self-deprecating smile follows. “So I’m not exactly ready for a night on the town.”

“I think you look perfect for any occasion, but I was thinking a walk in the park. Not a walk on the red carpet. You can rest assured that all of those expensive heels you love to wear can stay in the closet.”

“Are you knocking my red soles?”

I grin. “I’d never think to do something like that.”

Truthfully, those heels I’ve seen her wear, they’re sexy as hell, even on a woman who was full-term pregnant at the time.

---