Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Spread it out on the couch,” I said.
“The couch?” His expression was shocked. “This is a really nice couch, Emme.”
“Jesus, Nate. The couch is the last thing you should be concerned about.”
He swallowed hard, all the muscles in his neck flexing. “Right.” He unfolded the blanket and laid it across the leather cushion, then stood up and moved out of the way, as if he expected me to sit down and do it.
“Uh uh. You’re going to change her,” I told him. I maneuvered Paisley from the crook of my arm into my hands and held her out, facing him.
“Me!” From his expression you’d have thought I asked him to breastfeed her. “I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can, all-fucking-man. Take her. Put her on the blanket.”
Nate pressed his lips together, inhaled through his nose, and reached for her. His hands covered mine beneath her arms. They were warm and solid and when I knew he had her, I took my hands away. For a moment he held her away from his body and studied her, and she looked back at him without making a sound or moving a muscle. Then she started to kick her feet, and he quickly sat down and gently laid her on her back. “I did it.” He exhaled with relief.
“Good job,” I told him, dropping down to my knees to make sure she didn’t roll right off the couch. “But you have to keep a hand on her unless she’s on the floor because she could squirm around and fall off.”
He looked alarmed, and placed a palm over her belly, his fingers stretched wide. His hand looked gigantic on her little body. “Like this?”
“Yes. Now get her legs out of her pajamas.”
“How am I supposed to do that with one hand on her stomach?”
“You can use two hands, Nate. You just sort of have to keep contact with her at all times.” He looked nervous, so I touched him on the wrist. “Hey. You can do this.”
We didn’t usually touch each other in reassuring ways—mostly it was just to prod at each other when we were joking around or arguing. Maybe that’s why Nate stared at my fingertips against his skin for a few heartbeats. “Okay.”
With my coaching, he managed to get her legs out of her pajamas, unsnap her onesie, and remove the wet diaper. I took pity on him and rolled it up, showing him how to tape it shut in a little ball. Next, I instructed him to hold her ankles in one hand, lift up gently, and slide the new diaper beneath her. He bit his lip and concentrated hard. “Jesus, her legs are so small. Her ankles are about as big around as my fingers. Are you sure I’m not hurting her?”
“I’m sure.”
“Because she doesn’t look like she likes this too much.”
“No baby likes getting her diaper changed, but they like being wet even less, so keep going. You’re doing fine, except you have to open up the diaper before you get it beneath her. Also, you placed it upside down. You have to make sure the opening is at the top and the tabs are on the bottom.”
His eyes met mine. “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
I smiled. “You’ll figure it out.”
He exhaled in frustration but pulled the diaper out from beneath her, flipped it around, opened it up, checked the tabs, and pushed it underneath her little bottom all with one hand, still holding her by the ankles with the other. Then he looked at me. “Like this?”
“Yes, good job. The rest is easy. Let go of her legs, fold the top part up, peel back the tabs, and secure the sticky parts to the front.”
He did as I instructed, but the diaper was way too loose when he was done. I reached over and tightened up the tabs. “You want to make sure it’s snug enough, otherwise it will leak. Now get her legs back in her pajamas and snap them up.”
It took him a while, mostly because he was so tentative with her and she was so squirmy, but he managed. By the time her jammies were done up again, he was sweating. “Damn. It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”
“Not really.”
“I’m fucking roasting. Watch her for a second, okay? I have to take off my sweater.”
“Okay.” I made sure she stayed on the couch while Nate whipped off his sweater and tossed it aside. Beneath it he wore a white undershirt that hugged his muscular arms and chest. I let myself look for a moment, then refocused on Paisley, who was definitely working up to a big fuss. Getting to my feet, I scooped her up. “Let’s feed you, huh? Does that sound good?”
To Nate, I said, “Grab one of those bottles and the can of formula from the bag. I’ll show you how to feed her.”