Deal Takers (Dealing with Love 2)

She notices the mess he’s made all over my blouse and takes him from me. “Oh, Rainey! I’m so sorry. I should’ve given you the burp cloth before handing him over! You’re soaked.”

I hold my shirt away from my skin. “Yeah, he got me pretty good. I don’t suppose you have a top I could borrow?”

Devyn gets up from the bed and retrieves a t-shirt from her dresser. “Of course. This will probably be a little tight in the bust but it should work.”

I grab the tee and walk toward the door leading to the hallway. Devyn likes to nurse in her bedroom so she doesn’t have to be in the same room as her brother while feeding. I keep telling her that breastfeeding is perfectly natural, but both she and Drew insist that he does not need an accidental boob shot. The nurse side of me thinks she’s being silly but the woman with five brothers totally gets it. I wouldn’t want a nip slip around any of them and I’m positive they’d tell you the same.

“I’m going to change in the bathroom so I can rinse this out.”

“I’d be happy to throw it in the washer,” she offers.

I shake my head. “It’ll be fine if I can just run some water over it for now. I’m sure you have enough laundry on your hands with that little guy.”

She chuckles. “This is true.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I step into the hall and head over to the bathroom across the way. Once the door is closed, I widen the neck of my blouse as I lift it over my head, so I don’t get chunky breastmilk in my hair. Sadly, I get a lot of practice doing this at work. Labor & Delivery is messy business, folks.

The spit up is a force to be reckoned with, as a simple rinse does not do the job. I wind up scrubbing with some hand soap and a good amount of elbow grease before I feel confident that the stain won’t set before I get home.

“Holy fuck!” a deep voice shouts.

I jump and make a feeble attempt to cover my breasts with my arms. “What the hell?”

Standing in the doorway is none other than Mr. Viagra from the ER.

“What the hell?” he repeats. “What’s happening right now? What are the symptoms of a stroke, again? I’m pretty sure I’m having a stroke right now. Or maybe I died. I came in here to take a piss and the next thing I know, I’m looking at the most perfect pair of tits known to man. If there’s a heaven, those tits are definitely in it.”

He’s practically staring holes through my boobs.

“Yep, I’ve gotta be dead. Or maybe I passed out and this is a dream. A really good fucking dream.”

What is this idiot blabbering on about?

I grab the black t-shirt off the counter and hold it against me. “Turn around!”

He holds his hands up in surrender and turns away. “I’m not imagining this, right? The hot nurse that I’ve been fantasizing about all week is standing two feet away from me in a see-through bra?”

I glance down at my chest before pulling the shirt over my head. Damn it, of course I’m wearing a bra that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Did he say he’s been fantasizing about me?

“Not anymore,” I huff. “I’m fully dressed again.”

He turns around with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face. “I prefer you with the shirt off, but this will do, I suppose.”

I give him the nastiest glare I can manage. “Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“Have you ever heard of locking a door?” he counters.

I roll my eyes. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“This is my friend’s place. What are you doing here?”

“The same,” I reply.

I’d say it was impossible, but his grin is even bigger now. “Well, what are the odds?”