Page 51 of Shootout Daddies
It smells faintly of lavender baby lotion and fresh paint. The pale green walls are leftover from when the place was staged, but somehow they work. Warm. Soft. Safe.
“She’s just down the hall,” Ivy says, stepping back to look at the room from the doorway. “If she cries, you’ll hear her on the monitor.”
I nod. “Good. I want to hear her.”
Hunter huffs a quiet laugh. “We’ll be hearing her a lot.”
“I’m not complaining.”
We stand there, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the sleeping baby we barely know but already can’t seem to leave.
Chloe’s in the pack-and-play for now, her lashes dark against her cheeks, one fist curled near her face. Her little stuffed elephant lies beside her, half tucked into the blanket.
Ivy’s voice is quiet, like she doesn’t want to wake her. “I know this wasn’t the plan.”
“There wasn’t a plan,” I murmur.
She half-smiles. “Still.”
She crosses her arms. She’s in one of Hunter’s oversized shirts again, and her bare legs stretch out from beneath the hem, gold-tinted in the soft hallway light.
I should be tired. We’ve been running on fumes since Chloe showed up. But I’m not.
She clears her throat. “Have you thought about getting a nanny?”
Hunter and I glance at each other.
“I know someone who can help you find a reputable agency,” Ivy continues, like she’s been mulling this over all day. “A few interviews, background checks, proper vetting.”
“You think we should hand her off to a stranger?” Hunter’s brows pull in.
“No,” she says gently. “I think you should figure out how much help you’re going to need before you burn out.”
That gets me. I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Probably.”
Then she steps forward, hesitates, and says, “Or I could help.”
We both blink.
“I mean temporarily,” she says quickly. “Not forever. Just a few weeks. Until you get a rhythm or know what kind of support you want.”
Hunter lifts a brow. “You’d be her nanny?”
“Look, I already know how to do most of this. I was there when Brooke had Sage and Skye. I’ve changed diapers. I’ve helped with teething. I’ve dealt with baby puke in my bra. I’m practically certified.”
That makes me snort.
She continues, undeterred. “And I’m here anyway, aren’t I? It just… makes sense. I don’t want you two panicking every time Chloe fusses. Let me help.”
“You sure?” I ask. “It’s a lot.”
“I’m not saying I’ll quit everything and become a full-time caregiver,” she says, holding up her hands. “Just a few days. Nights, if I’m around. I can even sleep in here on the baby monitor nights if I need to.”
Hunter’s quiet for a long beat. “Okay,” he finally says. “We’d owe you.”
Ivy gives him a tired look. “You already do.”
I chuckle, then gesture to the hallway. “Let’s get her settled.”
