Page 44 of Unexpected Delivery

There was a time when I would have felt confident in my appearance, even first thing in the morning. That time is long gone. I think my confidence expired about the time I popped Gracie out on their couch.

Striding forward, I open the fridge and grab the water pitcher. I put it and my cup down on the counter and pull off the lid, but the wet stains on my shirt catch my attention.

My head falls back as it shakes.

There is no way this is my life.

The universe is evil.

I finally met a really hot pack of men, who are kind and that I would be lucky to build a future with, and I’ve never been more disgusting in my life. I’m so beat that I have to force myself to shower most days because sleep sounds way more appealing than smelling fresh.

My eyes ache, and I fight against the urge to burst into tears.

Hayes’s scent hits my nose just before my skin seems to sizzle with his warmth. His chin lands on my shoulder, and he slides a hand around my middle.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are this morning?” He kisses my cheek, tightening his hand on my stomach. “Because you’re radiant. Did you want me to grab the pieces for the pump?”

“I’m a mess, and we all know it.” I pat his hand. “But I appreciate you trying to rebuild my self-confidence. You could have warned me.”

He chuckles, and the warmth of his breath on my neck makes it very hard not to shiver. “Did you mistake me for Hael? I’m a gentleman. I was looking at your face, but if you’re giving me permission to check out your tits?—”

“Hayes!” I laugh, popping my butt back to push him away. “Yes, please. I need the pumps.”

Sometimes I think they might really be flirting with me, but it’s more likely that they’re trying to help build up my confidence. That way, I’ll meet someone and get the hell out of their house.

His hand relocated to my hip when he moved, and he gives it a quick pat. “On it, sweetheart. Does this mean I get to warm a bottle for Gracie?”

“Warm a bottle,” Morris says, coming into the room. “This little heathen has already tried to nurse from my cheek, and she just went for my nipple. She’s convinced she’sstarving, but I’ll be feeding her.” Morris chuckles.

Turning around, I lean against the counter and pull up my arm to block my chest. “She was asleep when I woke up, but I fed her at six.” I glance around for the clock and grimace. “It’s been a little over two hours. I bet she is convinced she’s starving. Do you want me to feed her?”

Hayes appears in front of me, handing off the portable pumps.

“Nah, I’ve got her.” Morris cradles her in his massive hands, keeping her face close to his. “I heard her as I was coming down the stairs, but she wasn’t crying. She’s bright-eyed and happy this morning.”

My breathing quickens as I take in his strong form.

Morris is the tallest, with the widest shoulders and a muscular chest, but he’s not cut or defined like Hayes and Hael. Next to him, I feel a little like a Barbie doll, which is hot because I’m still carrying around at least an extra thirty pounds from my pregnancy.

Gracie starts to tut, which is what I call the sound when she’s sputtering like a full-blown cry is on the way. My tits definitely recognize the sound, and they ache with the feeling that comes right before I start hardcore leaking.

I stride toward the hallway with the pumps in my hands. “Be back. Sorry. It’s an emergency.”

Hayes chuckles. “I’ll have your plate ready.”

“Tell Mommy to take her time,” Morris says, obviously talking to Gracie. “We’re fine. Enjoy a few minutes to yourself.” He really is thoughtful, and it makes me smile like a goober as I rush down the hall.

There’s a marked change in how long Gracie sleeps over the next week. She snoozes for two hours, sometimes two and a half.

I find myself waking her to nurse for almost an entire week in a row, and I mistakenly assume it’s a trend.

It’s not.

Week three rolls around, and it’s like we’re right back to night one in the hospital. She sleeps for forty-five minutes and wakes up wailing. Other times, she’ll rest for an hour or an hour and a half, but even after feeding, she’s inconsolable.

It’s frustrating, and I spend days in a sleepless haze of wondering where I went wrong.

After five or six days of this nonsense, I still can’t figure out what changed. She’s not even content when she’s on my chest, but I can’t lie down with her for fear I’ll fall asleep.

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