“I hope she likes pink,” he joked and gave her a hint more than the default smile. “That seemed to be the prevailing color option.”
Lord, this poor man was going to see her bawl, again, if she didn’t get herself under control.
“Will you hold the baby for a second?”
“Sure.”
“She should be mellow since I just fed her,” she babbled as she carefully transferred her daughter into his arms. Joy shadowboxed the world for a second and then snuggled in as he drew her to him. His midnight blue long-sleeved T-shirt clung to the kind of wide, solid chest a girl could snuggle into and feel protected—especially a girl too young to recognize not every wide, solid chest offered protection. He repositioned Joy in his arms, and the fluid cotton T-shirt draped over tight, flat abs. He’d haphazardly tucked the front into his jeans. Wear-softened denim rode lean hips, molded hard thighs, and relaxed into all kinds of interesting ridges and creases in between.
In between? Good lord, Madison, stop staring at his in between. She jerked her gaze back up to his face, relieved to note Joy claimed his undivided attention. “Just, um, holler if she starts to fuss.”
He sat on the bed and gave the baby his lethally charming grin. “We’ll be fine. Won’t we, pretty girl?”
They would no doubt be fine. She, on the other hand, was turning into a basket case. The sight of this big, powerful man holding her little girl so gently did funny things to her insides. She grabbed the bag and retreated to the bathroom.
Taking the packaging off the bra and underwear selected for her by the same big, powerful man caused another surge of emotion. Namely, embarrassment. She tried to reach past it and get to gratitude, because what he’d done was both thoughtful and generous, but dear God. What girl wanted a masterpiece of masculinity like Hunter Knox to look at her and think—she stared at the items in her hand—full-coverage nursing bra and granny panties?
Telling herself to let it go, she pulled on a pair of the briefs. Next came the bra. She tugged it over her head, twisted it into place, and looked down at herself. The underthings were darn comfy, actually, but kind of feminine, too, thanks to the color. Then, for some masochistic reason, she turned and looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the door—a luxury she didn’t have where she was staying. Oh yeah. You sexy.
The nurses had warned her not to expect her flat, pre-pregnancy stomach back right away, but Jeez, was it normal to look like she still had another baby to birth after this much time? She turned to the side and ran her hand over the soft, poochy area below her navel that had once been taut and flat. Maybe they’d missed one. Was that possible?
“Doing okay in there?”
She nearly jumped out of her skin when Hunter’s low voice came through the door. “Fine. Just fine.” Aside from wasting time thinking crazy. She had more important things to worry about than whether she’d ever look normal again. “I’m almost ready.” A quick rummage through the shopping bag produced the top. She pulled the tags off and tugged the soft gray cotton over her head. The crossover neckline managed to flatter her nursing-bra-induced cleavage at the same time it kept the girls handy for feedings. Tiny pleats just beneath went a long way toward disguising Joy’s unborn sibling. “How’re you doing out there?”
“We’re A-OK. One of us is thinking about taking a nap.”
The matching bottoms had wide legs and a fold-over waist, like flowy yoga pants. She dragged them on, pushed her hair back from her face, and then opened the door. Since he’d made the effort to be funny, she joked back. “Which one?”
His eyes slid from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and back up, pausing for an extra moment at her chest. A renegade hormonal butterfly fluttered through her belly, even before he gave her a slow smile.
“The cute one.”
New rule. No joking with the pretty man.
But she couldn’t help smiling as she tossed the bag on the bed and reached for Joy. “Now who’s being cute?”
He transferred the baby into her arms. “I’d say the honor goes to you.” He must have picked up doubt in her expression, because he tucked a stray hair behind her ear and added, “You look good.”
Heat snuck into her face. “Yeah, well, I’m sure compared to”—wow, there were so many awesome moments to choose from, between giving birth right in front of him, bawling all over him in the ER, and flashing her burly breast at him when he walked in—“the various states you’ve seen me in, fully covered in clean clothes is a major improvement.”
Her attempt to deflect the compliment backfired. He didn’t move away; he stepped closer and traced Joy’s tiny fist with his finger.
“Being on hand to help you welcome this baby girl into the world ranks high on my ‘Best Calls Ever’ list, but to be honest, I paid very little attention to whether your shoes matched your purse. I was too busy assessing details like whether your pupils were equal and reactive to light. Today I can appreciate different details.” His hand settled on the sleeve of her shirt. “Like how this color brings out the gray in your irises, which turns your eyes soft and dreamy. But if it makes you feel better”—he took her chin and tipped her head back an inch—“your pupils are equal and reactive to light.”
Okay, now she felt like an uptight idiot. “Thank you for noticing. Both things.” Make that an awkward, uptight idiot. “And for the clothes.” She took a step back. “Can you spare a minute for me to change Joy into an outfit before we go? I want to make sure she’s warm.”
“Take your time.” He slid his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and then thumbed the screen. “I’ll be right back.”
Probably scrolling through messages from friends he’d had plans with. Messages along the lines of, ‘Where the hell are you?’ because, come on, a guy like Hunter had better things to do with his free time than hang out at the hospital. He went places and did things. And the things he did probably involved at least one female friend, her brain insisted on adding as she worked Joy’s little arms and legs into a onesie.
The sooner she got out of his hair, the sooner he could get on with his day. She put the jacket on Joy, and the hat, and then picked her up. “Okay, baby girl, let’s get this show on the road.” She snagged her big canvas purse with her free arm and slid her feet into her black flats.
It took some doing, but she managed to get the Target bag on her arm, too. She reached the door just as Hunter came through, and they nearly collided. His hands landed at her hips to steady h
er, and then he backed her into the room. “Whoa there, turbo. Nobody walks out of a hospital. They’ve got protocols.”
“We sure do.” Alyssa appeared in the doorway, pushing a wheelchair. “Your chariot awaits.”