Call Her Mine (Harmony Pointe #1)- Melissa Foster Page 0,11
since most of his family would be tied up after the wedding, it was the perfect time to finally become a couple. Bridgette and Bodhi would be on their honeymoon, his parents were leaving for a trip to a resort, and Willow and Zane would be caring for Louie and his enormous dog, Dahlia. Talia and Derek had their hands full with home renovations and caring for Derek’s father, Jonah, who had Alzheimer’s, which left only Piper to distract Aurelia. But Aurelia had shut him down two weeks before the wedding when she’d bought the fucking bookstore and moved to Harmony Pointe in search of a fresh start. She’d said she was starting a new chapter in her life. She’d not only friend-zoned him; she’d tried to put him firmly in the past-life album, only he refused to let her go.
He clung to their friendship, because if she didn’t want more, at least he’d have that.
Now she gazed up at him with trusting eyes, as if he knew exactly what to get at the store and wouldn’t let either her or Baby B down, and he berated himself for the millionth time for letting his chance slip away—because if that baby girl was his, it just might be too late.
CHAPTER THREE
SHOPPING FOR A baby was nothing like shopping for an adult. There were too many choices and too many cute things Ben simply couldn’t pass up. Even if Baby B wasn’t his, she’d already had a tough go of things, and every little girl deserved to have pretty outfits, soft, cozy blankets, and a few toys. As he stepped inside with his arms loaded up with purchases, he called out, “Honey, I’m home,” and kicked the door closed behind him—sparking a bloodcurdling wail from the living room.
Aw, shit.
“Ben! You woke her up,” Aurelia scolded as she picked up the crying baby and held her against her shoulder. “Oh, she stinks. What’d you do, buy out the store?”
“Sorry, but you try getting out of a baby store without spending a thousand dollars. It’s not possible.” He dropped the bags, trying to figure out what the brownish stuff was in the basket. He looked at the baby, and the same watery mess stained the back of her outfit. “What is that?”
He stepped closer, and the pungent odor of poop hit him like a gust of rancid wind. He gagged, pointing to the baby’s back and trying to speak at the same time. But all that came out was dry heaves.
“What?” Aurelia lifted her hand, and the mess was on her forearm, her shirt, and the front of the baby’s legs. “Gross! Help me!” She held the wailing baby away from her body as if it were a ticking time bomb.
Ben pulled off his shirt, answering Aurelia’s perplexed expression with, “I’m not getting that shit on my shirt.” He reached for the baby, holding his breath.
She shoved the baby into his hands, and he held her away from his body, trying to get his dry heaves under control. Aurelia tore her shirt over her head—drawing Ben’s attention and immediately remedying his gags. He had a screaming baby in his hands and his eyes were riveted to Aurelia’s breasts, which were practically popping out of a sexy lace bra.
“What are you doing, Rels? This isn’t exactly the best time to try to turn me on.”
She shot him a death glare, using the shirt to wipe her arms and hands. “It’s all over me!”
“You keep doing that and you’ll have more than poop all over you,” he warned, earning another glare. “Get the scissors from the kitchen and cut her clothes off.”
Aurelia darted into the kitchen. She returned seconds later and quickly and carefully cut off the baby’s poop-covered clothes. Then she ran to the kitchen to throw them away.
Ben looked past the screaming baby at Aurelia as she ran back into the room. “Take her. I don’t want to drop her.”
“Let me get something to wrap her in so we can change her.” She looked around the living room.
“Use my shirt!”
“But you just said you didn’t want to get sh—”
“Do it!”
She grabbed his shirt and wrapped it around the baby, who was still screaming bloody murder.
He remembered how the baby had quieted when she’d fed her and said, “I’ll get a bottle.”
“Ben! Focus,” she said, bouncing the baby in her arms. “She doesn’t need to eat. She has poop all over her. She needs to be changed.”