“How is she sleeping?”
“Uh. She isn’t.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “She conks out for maybe a few hours at a time, but that’s it, and it definitely isn’t at night.” I’d only had her one night, but the girl seemed to hate anything to do with a normal schedule.
Madeline’s lips rose in a slight smile. “That’s normal. She’s probably hitting a growth spurt.”
“Can’t she grow during the day?” I was going to be a hot fucking mess if I didn’t get some sleep at some point. I’d been sluggish as hell on the ice this morning.
Madeline laughed. “She can, but she’s probably cluster feeding. How much is she eating?”
“A lot,” I answered.
“About five to six ounces at a sitting,” Fiona answered.
“Is that normal?” Fuck me, what if I was feeding her too little? Too much?
“Perfect,” Madeline answered, testing her mobility. “Wet diapers?”
“A lot. So many. Diapers fu—” I barely caught the swear word. Pretty sure there was a no-swearing-in-front-of-Donald-Duck policy in here. “Freaking everywhere.”
Madeline laughed. “Great. We worry when there aren’t.”
I shifted my weight as she continued the exam, anxiety rising in my throat at the thought of what the doctor would say.
“She’s fine,” Fiona whispered.
I grunted in response. There was no way to know what Skye’s first three months had been like, or Tiffany’s prenatal care for that matter. I knew virtually nothing about the squirming infant on the table except she liked her formula warm, preferred to be kept moving, and bellowed louder than I did.
“From what I can see, she’s perfectly healthy,” Dr. Ross announced. “You can get her dressed.”
Relief swept down my spine. “You’re sure?” I moved in front of the table and took a clean outfit out of the small duffel bag I’d grabbed from my storage closet. Guess I needed a diaper bag. Shit better not be pink.
“There’s only so much we can tell from a physical exam, but she looks good.” Madeline typed at the computer. “Her height and weight are good. Mobility is good. Immunizations?”
Nausea hit hard and fast. “I don’t know.”
Madeline glanced at Fiona, then back to me. “How about this. We’ll schedule another appointment for a month or so, and we’ll see if you can’t track down her records. It won’t hurt her to delay that month.”
Her records. Holy fuck. I didn’t have a birth certificate, or shot records, or fucking...anything. For a man who could afford pretty much whatever the hell I wanted, I was seriously lacking in the department that mattered most at the moment.
“Don’t worry,” Madeline said softly as I finished closing the impossibly small metal snaps on Skye’s outfit. “Fiona is the most capable woman I know. You’re in good hands. I can’t even imagine how much shock you must be in, but you’re doing great. Skye looks great.”
“It’s only been two days.” I hadn’t had enough time to fuck up yet.
“And the most important one is already passed,” Madeline assured me. “Fiona, just call me if anything pops up.”
The two embraced as I put Skye into the carrier, careful to adjust her straps just like the YouTube video had shown.
“Perfect.” Fiona gave me a reassuring smile. “Let’s get her home.”
I nodded, my mind running too fast to form verbal words.
We were almost home by the time my mouth started working again. Even driving made me nervous now. Why the hell was everyone going so fast? “I need to get you a credit card.”
“I’m sorry?” Fiona’s brow puckered as we pulled into Reaper Village.
“You have a ton of siblings that you pretty much raised right? That’s your story?”
“Pretty much. But I’m not sure what that has to do with needing a credit card.”
“It’s pretty damn clear that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, or what she’ll need. And there will be times I’ll be on the road—” I sucked in a breath, reality slapping me in the face, “—and you’ll be here with her because I can’t travel with a baby.”
“No,” she agreed as we turned into the driveway. “You can’t travel with a baby.”
“Right. Which means if you need something, and I’m not here, you need access to money, so you need to be on my credit card. I’ll take care of it this afternoon.” That was at least one task I could manage.
“If that makes you feel better—”
“It does.” I nodded, putting the car in park inside the garage. The car fell silent when I killed the ignition. “She’s sleeping.”
“She likes movement,” Fiona agreed, her eyes meeting mine with sparkle that locked every muscle in my body. “Wonder who she gets that from?”
Damn, she really was gorgeous. And smart. And kind. And good with Skye.
I made some sound of agreement and got the fuck out of the car before I did something stupid like flirt with the only woman who could keep my world under some measure of control.
Don’t fuck with the nanny.
I carried Skye into the house and Fiona grabbed the bag from the back of the car. It would be an easy partnership as long as I didn’t go and do something stupid like crossing professional lines. Nope, those suckers had to stay as firm as cement barriers.
We came around the corner and into the kitchen, where I found half my team and their wives, girlfriends, and sisters.
“Surprise!” they shouted!
I cringed and immediately checked to see if Skye was still sleeping.
“Sorry!” London whispered. “She’s sleeping, guys!”
“Surprise!” Mia stage-whispered, throwing up jazz hands while Maxim rolled his eyes next to her.
“Thanks,” I managed to say, figuring it was the appropriate response. “Everyone, this is Fiona—” I motioned toward her as she set the duffel bag on the counter. “Fiona, this is...mostly everyone.”
“Hi,” she whispered, giving everyone a shy smile and wave.
“We’re just so happy for you!” Persephone, Cannon’s petite, blonde wife untangled herself from her tatted-up husband and came forward, rising up on her toes to put a kiss on my cheek. “Congrats, Daddy. She’s gorgeous!” She stared adoringly at Skye.
“Nope, that shit’s contagious,” Cannon muttered, scooping his wife into his arms and heading for the front door. “We left you a present upstairs, Brogan.”
Persephone waved over her husband’s back, and the others started to follow them. Sterling and London, Axel, Langley and Colin, Bristol and Briggs—they all shuffled toward the door, whispering their congratulations.
“We may have done some shopping,” Mia whispered, excitement shining in her eyes. “Bristol and I took care of the clothes, the guys handled the furniture, and Evie—” She glanced at her best friend, who was doing her best to fade into the woodwork.
“Evie gave the kid a damn library,” Maxim muttered, but a smile tugged at his lips. “Go on upstairs. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”