Page 75 of A Reluctant Boy Toy

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It wasn’tthe daybed’s fault I couldn’t get to sleep, even if my feet hung off the end. No matter how many times I punched the pillows or went from one side to the other, my insomnia wasn’t because I was trying to sleep in the room where I kept my computer.

It wasn’t the little red eye on the smoke detector.

It wasn’t the placement of doors and windows, but that was a thing, right? You weren’t supposed to try to sleep with your feet pointing toward the door.

I was finally home where I belonged. I was providing a safe space for Sebastian and Molly. I could go back to the daily grind of feeding and exercising the hybrids.

I had been with Sebastian…

I put in earbuds and tried a meditation app. When that didn’t work, I’d had enough. Dressing quickly, I put on a head lamp and left the house. I took the path away from the kennels. The last thing I needed was to disturb the animals.

Leaves crunched beneath my feet. Moths drawn to my light dive-bombed me playfully. Cold made each breath fog the air.

All around me there was the fragrant clatter of aspen leaves, the trees’ tall pale trunks washed white by my artificial light against the black darkness beyond it.

I made my way toward the welcoming light from Tag and Ariel’s place, and as I got closer, I heard the baby cry. To my surprise, Tag wandered onto the deck carrying Artemis in his arms. He saw me, lifted a hand, and waved before sitting in one of their luxe padded rocking chairs.

“What are you doing outside?” I asked.

“Letting Ariel get a bit of sleep.” He sounded as tired as he looked. “This baby gig, man. Why the fuck don’t babies sleep?”

“I’m not going to insult your intelligence by asking if you fed her.”

He frowned. “Sounds like you just did.”

“And you changed her diaper?”

“I thought you weren’t going to insult my intelligence.” He pointed toward the second rocker, and I sat down gratefully.

“How’s her temperature. It’s kind of cold out here.”

“She’s warm enough,” he snapped. “You think I’d bring her out here if I didn’t bundle her up?”

I held my hands out. “Gimme.”

“Oh, so now you’re the baby whisperer?” He hesitated before giving the baby to me. “Fine. Here.”

I took the squalling, wriggling baby from him. She had on a blanket sleeper, but he hadn’t swaddled her otherwise. Maybe Artemis was one of those kids who liked to be tightly wrapped.

“Did they teach you how to Chipotle wrap these things?” I asked.

“Very funny.”

“No, I’m serious. You never saw Serena do it?” We’d found that essential, especially for Lincoln. “Some kids dig it. C’mere and watch.”

And that’s how we ended up placing the very tiny Artemis on the patio table and wrapping her like a carne asada burrito with all the trimmings.

“No, put that bit under her shoulders,” I advised. “Her arms have to be inside.”

“Like this?” he asked.

It gripped me somewhere in my DNA to see Taggart brought to his knees by a crying baby. It wasn’t just me after all. Babies were like those aliens in the movies who opened people up, crawled inside, and controlled their every thought, word, and action from then on.

“Right,” I nodded. “Okay, now the bottom edge has to come up. Tuck that behind her shoulder too. Then the side goes over all the way. Tight. Right. See how snug she is?”

He gave me a sideways glance. “They actually like this?”