Up in Smoke (Hotshots 4)

“No.” Shane searched the drawer again, like a diaper might have magically appeared in the last thirty seconds.

“I’ve got this. You hold her.” Brandt thrust Jewel at him. Damn. Just when Shane thought Brandt couldn’t get sexier, he went and got all confident and take-charge again.

I want to get fucked. The words kept echoing in Shane’s head. Brandt was going to be his undoing. Big, cocky dude who wanted to get done? Yes, please. Sign him up, pesky reservations and his natural cautiousness and all.

Brandt returned a few minutes later with two faded T-shirts, a roll of duct tape, and a piece of plastic, like the sort used for painting drop cloths.

“What the...” Shane’s head tilted, and he could have sworn the baby repeated the gesture.

“Cloth diapers are a thing, right? Like historically, little cave babies didn’t have name-brand diapers.”

“Guess not.” Shane had to laugh, jostling Jewel in the process. She made a little hiccup, like she was testing the idea of laughing herself.

“So, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna McGyver up a diaper. Then you can give her a bottle while I make a run to the convenience store. Hopefully, then we’re back in business until tomorrow when we’re doing a run to that warehouse store in Bend. Bulk diapers and wipes.”

“Sounds good.” What truly felt good was all that we talk, Brandt’s easy assumption that they were in this together and that they’d go shopping together.

“Aren’t cloth diapers supposed to have pins?” he asked as he watched Brandt fold one of the shirts.

“You’re thinking of cartoons. I thought about some binder clips or something like that, but I don’t want to scratch her.” The tenderness with which Brandt wrapped the baby up in the folded shirt was truly something to behold, his big hands so gentle as he deftly secured the whole thing with a layer of plastic and tape. He put her in one of her little shirts to keep warm before handing her back to Shane. “There. That should do her.”

“Excellent.” He headed for the kitchen to make the bottle. “You good to drive?”

“On less than a full beer? Yeah. I’m fine. I’ve driven these roads on thirty-six hours without sleep before. Not recommended, but fires don’t work nine-to-five.”

“Yeah.” Shane licked his lips, feeling strangely shy, like they shouldn’t leave their earlier conversation entirely unfinished. “Brandt...”

“You don’t need to decide anything tonight.” Mind reading was apparently another of the Diaper Wizard’s tricks. “I have a feeling it’s gonna be another night of taking shifts with the diva. Just tell me if you’re in the mood for something. This doesn’t have to be complicated.”

“Yeah.” The lie made Shane’s hand tense on the bottle. It was already complicated because he didn’t only like kissing Brandt. He liked Brandt. Liked his ingenuity and forthrightness. Liked how he hadn’t run from responsibility. Liked his fun side even. Complicated. Yup. And yet, here he was doing complex math trying to figure out when next they might both be awake while the baby was asleep.

* * *

“Did you have a fun outing with your adoring fans, Diva?” Shane softly teased the baby as he rocked her on the couch. She did seem pretty tuckered out after their shopping trip to Bend. She’d worn the puppy sleeper and had received enough stranger smiles to leave him slightly exhausted. But not too exhausted. All day he’d been counting down to this nap.

“That’s the last of it.” Brandt’s muscles flexed as he showed off, hauling both a box of diapers and a giant four-pack of formula. Shane had lost the rock-paper-scissors game for who had to deal with a fussy baby and who got to unload Brandt’s SUV.

And only Brandt could make warehouse shopping sexy. Shane didn’t consider himself particularly out of shape either, but there was something about watching Brandt haul heavy items that had a low hum of arousal following Shane all day like a tune he couldn’t shake and wasn’t sure he wanted to. Brandt leaving the ball in Shane’s court as to what happened next was both frustrating and touching. Not that Shane wanted Brandt to go for a hard sell, but part of him wouldn’t mind if Brandt wanted to push him against the nearest wall and plead his case with his mouth.

“I’m going to try to set the diva in her crib,” Shane whispered as he carefully got off the couch with the sleeping baby in his arms.

“Good luck,” Brandt called softly back. And his wish must have worked, because for once, she let Shane do the transfer on the first try.

When he emerged, Brandt had made two glasses of lemonade and was finishing up two sandwiches.

“Figured you were probably as hungry as me.” Brandt gestured to the food, like it was no big deal him thinking of Shane like that. And maybe it was the hunger. Maybe it was the exhaustion from dealing with Jewel amid navigating the big box store. Maybe it was how Brandt’s hair looked in the afternoon light, a hundred shades from blond to brown, long strands fluttering around his rugged face. Or maybe it was that Shane’s body had finally had enough of his brain’s indecision.