Page 16 of Royal Bargain
I pace a little, then glance over at the bassinet where Lily’s nestled in, blinking up at me with those big blue eyes that are way too much like mine. I freeze. She’s awake. Watching me. Judging me, maybe.
“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart,” I mutter. “I didn’t want her to go either.”
She kicks her legs in response. Like she’s agreeing.
I grab my phone for the fifth time in two minutes and scroll to Ana’s contact. No new texts. No updates. I shove it into my pocket and turn back toward Lily.
“Well…” I say, rocking back on my heels. “Looks like it’s just us, tiny human.”
She makes a soft cooing noise that could be cute or a warning. Jury’s out.
Dammit. I reach out for her, trying to pick her up and support her head like in those YouTube videos but she’s definitely more wiggly than I expected, and somehow, terrifyingly fragile.
A huff escapes me as I stare down at her. “Now what?” I murmur.
It only takes a few minutes before she decides that Not Mom is a terrible replacement. Starting with a little whimper, she gets warmed up like a brass instrument before it’s a full blow wail, like something out of a horror movie.
I bounce her gently as I whisper to her, trying to comfort her. “I know I’m not Mama but can’t you give your dad a chance,a stór? I’m doin’ the best I can.”
She looks up at me like she’s not buying what I’m selling, a dark, annoyed look on her tiny face. Her little body squirms andsnuffles, making angry noises like I’ve personally offended her just by my existence.
I go through the checklist: she’s changed. Fed. Burped. She even napped for a bit after Ana left. But something’s clearly off, and none of the toys are doing a damn thing to help. Stuffed bunny? Nope. Light-up music cube? Immediate fury. I even try one of those crinkly books and get a high-pitched shriek in return.
“You don’t like literature?” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. “Tough crowd.”
She’s still sniffling, but I notice it’s less of a scream now, more of a “I’m miserable and I want you to fix it” kind of cry. So I do the only thing I haven’t tried yet.
I start talking.
“So… did I ever tell you about the time Uncle Lucky and I tried to teach your Aunt Alannah how to drive? She was thirteen. Thirteen.”
I rock her gently as I speak, shifting her weight in my arms.
“We had this old junker stashed at the edge of town—totally not street legal, mind you—but we figured back roads were fair game. Lucky swore he’d adjusted the brakes. Spoiler: he had not.”
Lily hiccups, not quite a laugh, but not a cry either. Progress.
“She hit the gas, panicked, and we all ended up in a ditch. Lucky’s arm got scratched to hell, I lost a shoe, and Alannah got out of the car, looked at us both, and said, ‘I think I’m more of a passenger princess.’”
I snort. “She was right.”
I adjust my hold on Lily, sitting down now, easing her into the crook of my arm as her fussing slows.
“You wanna hear about my first real job?” I ask softly. “I was fifteen. Uncle Rory gave me this old phone and told me I hadone job—just one. I was supposed to stand watch outside a poker game and text him if any cops came sniffing around.”
Lily blinks up at me, still and alert now.
“But I got bored. Started texting girls instead. Didn’t see the cruiser until it was already turning the corner. Rory had to flip a table to stall and pretend they were just playing Uno. I got banned from ‘serious work’ for six months.”
I shake my head. “Fair, honestly.”
Pausing for a moment, I watch her eyes flutter shut, sleep catching up to her. One tiny hand wraps around a finger and holds onto it, as though encouraging me to keep going.
“Okay, so, one time your Uncle Lucky and I tried to catch a racoon stealing from the storage shed. We made up this dumb trap, like just a cardboard box, and some string with bait. Totally thought we were geniuses for that one.
Grinning, I continue. “Except that the racoon got into the trap, stole the food and left us a note. I knew Rory and Kellan were messing with us but part of me is convinced that dang racoon was smarter than all of us combined.”
Lily’s breathing slows, soft and even now, the fight finally gone from her tiny frame.
