Page 38 of The Wrong Track

“No, she won’t,” he agreed. Carefully, he sat down in his desk chair and I put her rocking seat next to him on the floor. “That’s ok, I’ll hold her for a while. I haven’t seen very much of her today.”

“You two were awake last night, though.”

“So were you. How long did she sleep this time?”

I sighed. It had felt like five or ten minutes. “I’m sorry she’s keeping you up.”

“She might be keeping the neighbors up,” he answered, but he smiled at the baby. “You’re small, but loud,” he told her.

“I really, really thought that I could do this,” I said.

“What?”

“I thought I could do it.” I put my hand on my chest as my lungs tightened up. “I thought I could make it ok.” Probably I hadn’t been thinking at all. I’d actively tried not to, I remembered, but the whole pregnancy seemed like a dream. Not a good one.

“You are doing it, aren’t you?” he asked me. “We’re all here, eating and breathing. It seems like it’s working to me.”

I thought of Annie with her six kids, her husband, her successful job, her sweetness and generosity. Her really nice haircut. “It’s kind of working. Sure,” I agreed, when he looked like he was getting ready to argue. “Come get me if she needs anything. I’ll change her and feed her. Come if she spits up, or cries, or anything.”

“We’re good. Who knew that I was a baby whisperer?” He smiled at me now. “I’m tired of looking at those files anyway. Ella and I will hang out together and talk about football trades in the offseason.”

Well, that would make her nap. I went to sew and I worked as hard and as fast as I could, the fabric flying under the foot of his grandma’s machine. I finished up the cushions and made a café curtain, a bolster with welting, and I started a slipcover for an ottoman. That thing took up a large part of my workspace, so I had to get it out. I was proud when I looked at what I’d accomplished but then I realized that it had been much too quiet for much too long in the living room. I quickly walked in there.

Tobin was on the couch, reclined against some pillows and with his broken leg resting on the pouf I’d made for him. And for some reason, his shirt was off. He had the baby mostly naked, too, because I saw the outfit she’d previously worn tossed onto the coffee table. She was cuddled on his bare chest with a little blanket over her, and only one tiny toe poking out from under it. He waved sleepily at me.

“One of the nurses at the hospital suggested this, and I’ve been reading about it, too,” he whispered. “It’s supposed to help calm her. And she likes it.” He smiled down at her. “I think it also counts as tummy time.”

“Oh.” I stood there without moving, feeling something funny in my own tummy which I first dismissed as my medical issue before I realized that what I’d been calling my “medical issue” was now out and lying on Tobin’s bare chest.

Despite us living together, he’d kept himself covered up until now, and I hadn’t seen him half-clothed before. It made sense that his chest would be that chiseled, because he did spend a lot of time in the gym and even with his leg injury, he was always outside shoveling snow or working on the house. That would also account for his arms being so muscular, not huge but very cut, and beneath where the blanket ended I noticed that his abs were in that same condition. Really nice. Succulent.

Oh.

“I can take her,” I said hoarsely. “I’ll take her and you can get dressed.”

“No, we’re totally fine,” he assured me. “She’s happy and so am I. It turns out, she’s fascinated by my replays of last season’s Woodsmen games. I think she’s going to be a football fan. Maybe she’ll play herself.”

“No,” I said immediately and without even considering that it might be a joke. “I don’t want her to get beat up.”

“I wouldn’t let anyone lay a finger on her. No one is ever going to hurt this little peanut.” She stirred and grunted, a tiny sound. “Right?” he asked her. “You know that.” He looked up at me. “You should know that, too.”

Then both of us looked at the door, because someone was opening it. Had I seriously left it unlocked? I thought of my knife, of Tobin’s gun locked up so securely in the safe and only he knew the combination—

But it was just Lulu, stopping by and letting herself in because she “happened” to be on this street again. She walked through the door smiling but stopped cold when she saw the three of us, and one of us without a shirt. If that person had been me, she probably would have burst out laughing or maybe thrown up, but her reaction to Tobin (even Tobin partially obscured by a baby) was different. I thought that she almost started to drool.

“Hi,” she said. “Oh, Toby, it’s so, so great to see you.” She ran her gaze over his body. “It’s so great.”

“Hey, Lulu,” he answered, and the baby stirred again.

“I’ll take her.” I stepped forward and he gently disengaged her from his chest. Without the baby and her little blanket, he was totally exposed, and both Lulu and I stood there and stared like we’d paid for tickets or something.

I recovered first. “Hi, Lulu,” I said, and put my eyes on her.

“Yeah,” she answered, and still didn’t look my way.

“We’ll go drop off the work at Annie’s office and then to the library,” I said next. I would give Lulu and Tobin some time alone, I thought. She looked like she already had ideas about things they could do together.

But he sat up. “You and Ella? Alone?”

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