Daddy Undercover (Crescent Cove 9)

“That’s one hell of a long, slow fall.”

“We reached the crash landing part. And since I’m sure, why dick around?”

More scratching. “I see the logic in it, but how does she feel?”

“Why do you think I need some tips? She hasn’t been totally bowled over by my rampant charm,” John coughed into his fist, “or my simmering sexual prowess yet.”

“Dani’s the one who says things are gross, not me. Today may be a first.”

I grunted.

“As for tips, tell the truth. Listen. And never forget what makes her eyes cross.”

“You are very wise.” The baby let out another cry and I stood, motioning to John. “Come meet my daughter.”

John didn’t have a flair for theater, but his expression was comical. He sat back down again without even making it all the way to his feet. “Explain.”

“Something happened last winter.”

“I can guess what. And that baby isn’t Gina’s and she’s still sleeping with you?”

“Not only that, she loves her already. She’s so good with her. Sami loves her too. I swear, you can just see it.”

He frowned. “I know you and Gina have been close for a damn long time. But add a baby into it…” Slowly, John shook his head. “Well, maybe you’re latching onto a ready-made family so you don’t have to do this alone. Which is hard as hell. Take it from somebody who knows.”

“Yeah. That’s all true. I’ve leaned on Gina a lot, but it’s not like that, man. She’s my best friend.” I exhaled. “She’s just everything. And I want everything with her.”

John clapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “Whelp, I’ve been replaced.”

I had to laugh. “You’re a good friend.”

“I know, I know. Too soon for labels.” He pretended to wipe away a tear. “I’ll get over it. I just need some time.”

“Wiseass.” I gave him a shove as the occasional cries from the baby turned into full-blown sobs.

Sadie met us in the hall, her golden brown eyes wide and worried. “It’s okay, Sadie. She’s fine. Just probably needs a diaper change.”

John slid me a sidelong glance. “You seem surprisingly okay with all this father stuff.”

“It’s been almost two weeks. I’ve adapted. Started to anyway. Seems like there are levels.” I jogged up the stairs to the nursery-slash-office and found Sami in hysterics. “Oh, c’mere, sweetie. It’s okay. It’s okay,” I murmured, scooping her up into my arms while Sadie paced worriedly. “See, your little girl is fine,” I told her, leaning down to show her the baby.

Pink, screwed up face and all.

I rocked and sang softly to her—this time “Carry On, Wayward Son”—as I walked back and forth until she began to calm down.

“She’s really beautiful,” I said a few minutes later, assuming John was just watching quietly. But it was odd for him not to say anything at all. “I know you can’t tell right now, but once I get her cleaned up, you’ll see.”

I turned toward the doorway to see a collection of faces in the hall. All my friends had arrived when I hadn’t been looking, probably let in by John. Not that they wouldn’t have made themselves at home without his help. The shocking part was how quiet they’d been climbing the stairs.

“Hey, Moose. Hi, August. Caleb,” I said with surprise. “You’re still alive.”

“According to the tabloids, yep.” He gave a halfhearted wave.

Off to the side was my brother, standing next to a sheepish-looking John. “Hey, Mase. I figured you’d blow me off as usual.”

“This promised to be more entertaining than your usual poker nights. Besides, I thought you might need a skilled carpenter.” He side-eyed John and Moose. “No offense.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re all here. I’d like to introduce you to Samantha Mae Brooks. She’s almost two-and-a-half months old, and she’s my daughter.” At their silence, I cleared my throat. “Sorry if you heard through the grapevine already. I hid it until the last minute.”