He was adorably flustered, and I wanted to kiss his fool face off right there in the middle of my kitchen.
“It’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I managed. I wasn’t about to tell him I was a vegetarian. I didn’t tell most people anyway, but I for damned sure wasn’t telling a man who’d gone out of his way to bring me a bacon-and-chicken casserole thing.
We stared at each other for a beat before he pulled the dish off the counter and shoved it at me. “Fridge is best. And, um… I probably have to go now.”
I took the dish and turned to throw it in the fridge, but when I turned back around, he was already halfway across the room waving goodbye over his shoulder and thanking me for my generosity in supplying him with writing implements. He reached the door and pulled it open, only to realize it was the coat closet. “Oh.”
I slapped my hand over my mouth as he turned in a few confused circles and tried a different door. That one was to my bedroom. He let out a little squeaky noise of alarm and slammed the door closed again. The sound shot like a crack through the small house, waking the baby he probably hadn’t noticed asleep in the portable crib on the far side of my bed. Suddenly, Marigold’s angry shrieks rang out around us.
The look of horror on Parrish’s face was almost comical. “Oh my God, my apology casserole visit is going to need an apology casserole,” he whispered in shock. “This is unprecedented.”
For once, I didn’t feel the same fear and horror at the sudden baby cry that had become my usual response over the past few days. Instead, I felt a laugh bubble up.
“She was probably going to wake up around now anyway,” I tried assuring him. “But I’ll let you give me an apology diaper change instead of another casserole. How about that?”
He glanced at me as my words sank in.
“Give her an apology diaper change,” I amended. “Not me. Her.”
Parrish’s frown softened slightly into the barest hint of a smile. “Okay. I can do that while you fix a bottle.”
Bottle. Right. I nodded at him and told him where to find the supplies while I headed back to the kitchen for the formula. Within seconds, the baby’s cries quieted, and I heard the low mumble of Parrish’s soothing baby talk through the open bedroom door.
Hearing him with Marigold brought back all the reasons I’d blurted out the thing about him being my fiancé. He was good with her. For some reason, he knew how to handle a screaming baby, and I definitely didn’t. But more than that, the little barbecue king had an air of utter competence about him. He was like what Stewie’s punch list would look like if someone fed it into a robot generator. Not that Parrish was like a robot or anything. He wasn’t.
I wandered into the bedroom to see what was taking so long and saw Parrish sitting on the end of my unmade bed, smiling and making faces at Marigold while bouncing her on his knee and singing some song about the way the farmers ride.
No, he was the furthest thing from a robot. Mal said Parrish was a nice guy with a good reputation, and I could already tell from being around him a few minutes he was gentle and kind, steady and put together. Dependable.
And I needed him to help me get custody of my niece.
I cleared my throat and held out the bottle. “Did you want to feed her, or do you want me to?”
Parrish startled and shot wide eyes at me. “Oh, sorry. I guess I got distracted by this sweet girl. She sure is lovely.” His face softened again as he looked at her. “Aren’t you? Aren’t you the sweetest thing ever?”
He stood up and put Marigold on his hip. She looked up at him like he was the second coming of Christ even though I was the one holding her bottle. Typical.
“I’d love to give her the bottle if that’s okay?” Parrish asked, suddenly looking unsure.
I nodded and gestured out of the bedroom to the big comfortable chair in the living room. “It rocks,” I said stupidly, realizing I’d made it sound like it was a cool chair instead of one that had a rocking motion. “The chair. It’s kind of like a rocking chair even though it looks like a recliner. It’s a recliner too. But it also rocks.”
What the fuck was happening? Had I lost the ability to form proper sentences?
Parrish looked at me with a shy smile. “Okay if I sit there to feed her?”
“Of course,” I huffed. “That’s what I…” I noticed the twinkle in his eye and grunted my frustration.
Parrish chuckled softly and sat down, cradling my adorably chubby niece in his arms like a natural and putting the nipple into her mouth. “Your uncle is a silly billy,” he cooed. “Isn’t he?”