“I’ve been busy,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Busy with a crying baby who could have been calmed down with her Binky.”
Harry pulls out the plastic sandwich bag I packed. He takes out the purple and white pacifier and holds it out in front of Avery.
Shaking my head, I glare at him. “She’s a baby. She can’t grab it herself.”
Shifting Avery to free up one of my hands, I swipe the pacifier from him and put it in Avery’s mouth, holding it until she’s clamped down with her sucking reflex.
She stills and quiets immediately, her eyes drifting closed from exhaustion.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Harry looks indignant. “That was all it took?”
“Shh,” I hiss softly. “She’s not asleep yet.”
“So I just give her that when she won’t stop crying?” he whispers, running a hand through his hair.
“Not always,” I whisper back. “Sometimes she needs to be fed, or changed or rocked.”
He shakes his head, looking at the clock on the wall. “I have to be up for the gym in two hours.”
“The gym? What were you planning to do with her? You can’t leave her home alone, Harry.”
“I know that,” he snaps, his voice still low so he doesn’t startle Avery. At least he’s got that idea down. “I was gonna take her with me.”
“Are you out of your mind? What would you do with her while you’re there? Carry her around to each station with you? What if she starts crying?”
He shrugs. “There are lots of women at the gym.”
My eyes bulge as his moronic thought process sets in.
“Just because someone has a uterus, doesn’t mean they want to watch your baby,” I scold, barely holding it together at this point. “Or that you should trust them with her.”
“I’d keep an eye on her. All women love babies.”
My urge to dick punch him is strong. But I have to keep rocking Avery, so I close my eyes and try to think soothing thoughts. After a few seconds, though, my eyes fly back open.
“You said you were going to work for a meeting tomorrow, or today, whatever. What were you going to do with her then?”
Another careless shrug. “My secretary will watch her.”
“Oh my god.” I close my eyes again, hoping the rocking will calm not just Avery, but me, too.
“What’s the big deal?” Harry asks. “I own the company. If watching my kid for a couple hours is what I need my secretary to do, she’ll do it.”
“I’ll stay here with her,” I offer. “She’s exhausted. You go get some sleep and…do whatever it is you need to do. I’ll take care of her until you’re done.”
“Really?”
“Of course. She’s a five-week-old baby, Harry, not a puppy. You can’t just tote her everywhere you go and pass her off on people. You don’t want her getting sick from all the germs.”
“Thanks,” he says, ignoring everything I just pointed out except my offer to help. “There’s a guest room at the end of the hallway you can stay in.”
Looking around at the shitload of baby things in his living room, I say, “Move the bassinet in there for Avery, will you?”
He gives me a blank look. “Sure. And the bassinet is which thing?”
“The big oblong thing, right there, with the white frilly lace all over it.” I say while pointing right at it.
He rolls his eyes but takes it into the bedroom, giving me a clear view of his flexing back muscles as he carries it.
Damn. Dirty Harry may be a complete asshole and a dipshit about babies, but he’s still got the hot body he had when his photo was taken for that poster. In fact, it’s even hotter now, with a scar several inches long snaking from his side around to his back.
After moving the bassinet, he comes back into the living room and looks at me expectantly. “You good?”
I nod.
“I’m gonna go pass out,” he says with a yawn, turning to walk back down the hall.
I don’t watch him go this time, because my gaze is locked on little Avery. She’s out cold, probably dreaming about a world where everyone knows what pacifiers are for. I’ve missed her perfect little face, and we weren’t even apart for twenty-four hours.
Though I think she’d sleep a few solid hours in the bassinet right now, I sit down in a cushy leather recliner in Harry’s living room and rock her.
Avery is back in my arms, and everything feels right again. Everything except the dickhead caveman down the hall, that is. I still despise Harry, but I find my mind thinking of how he looked in nothing but boxers.
He may be an asshole, but I have to secretly give him one thing: he’s a very hot one.
Chapter Seven
Harry
I pull my loosened tie off as I step off the elevator, trying to decide if I even feel like shoveling some food down before bed. I’m wiped out, but also starving.