his stern dad voice, even though he knew it would do no good.
Ryder drifted down the hall, intent on heading to his room to change into a T-shirt and lounge pants, anxious to shed the suit.
Instead, he followed the sound of Darcy’s voice to the nursery.
She was speaking baby talk to the tiny girl, and Ryder couldn’t help but grin as he watched her from the doorway to the room.
“Oh my, what a little stinky butt you are. No wonder you couldn’t sleep.” Darcy reached for a clean diaper. “How in the hell can such a cute baby make such a godawful smell?”
“Should you cuss at a baby?” he murmured from the door.
Darcy glanced over at him and laughed. “I figure I’m safe for a few more months. Do you mind handing me the baby wipes?”
Ryder looked around, spotting the container. He picked it up and walked over to the crib, just halfway there when he stopped in his tracks. His eyes watered at the horrific smell. “Holy mother of God.”
Darcy laughed. “Right? And she doesn’t even eat real food yet.”
Ryder handed her the wipes, then retreated back to the door. “I think I must have blocked out the smells babies make. I swear I don’t remember Clint ever stinking up a room like that.”
Darcy wiped Reba’s tiny bottom and put a clean diaper on, quickly, efficiently, gently. The baby had quit crying as soon as Darcy had the shitty diaper off.
“I’m sure he stunk just as bad. Diapers are probably like childbirth. Parents tend to forget the pain because they’re too in love.” Darcy picked up Reba, cradling her in her arms, reverting back to baby speak. “I’ve already forgotten the smelly bottom because who couldn’t love this beautiful, sweet, perfect girl?” Darcy continued to coo, swaying back and forth, as Ryder watched. She sat in the rocking chair, slowly lulling the baby back to sleep with gentle motion and soft humming.
It sparked a memory of him doing the same things with Clint when he was a baby—the cooing, the rocking, the singing. He remembered being overwhelmed by so many powerful emotions as he held his son.
Denise had been pregnant when they’d married. Actually, that was why they’d gotten married. They’d been dating for a few months. One night, things had gotten hot and heavy, but he hadn’t had a condom. She’d told him she was on birth control and they’d had sex without one.
Denise was the first woman Ryder had ever really dated seriously, the woman and her tiny son, Vince, claiming his playboy heart quickly. So when she’d told him she was pregnant, he’d proposed on the spot.
According to Denise, she’d forgotten to take her pills a couple nights, but she didn’t think it would matter. They hadn’t dated long enough that he’d been considering marriage, but when she’d told him she was pregnant with his child, something clicked inside him, and Ryder, the man who’d never considered settling down, realized he desperately wanted to be a father.
The months prior to Clint’s birth had been tense, to say the least, as they planned a rushed wedding, moved in together, and set up a nursery. Ryder worked from dawn to midnight—both at work, then at their tiny apartment, trying to make sure Denise and Vince had everything they needed. He’d only been twenty-four, the same age Darcy was now, and it felt as if he’d grown up in the blink of an eye, switching from carefree bachelor to family man overnight. Even now, those first months of his marriage were a blur. The only thing Ryder could recall was the exhaustion and the fear of failing Denise and Vince and the baby on the way.
Everything changed when Clint was born and Ryder held his son in his arms for the first time. Those days he remembered as if they’d been imprinted on his brain.
The best way to describe his feelings toward Denise until the doctor placed his son in his hands was genuine affection. However, after he’d looked at Denise, lying in the hospital bed, holding their baby, that changed.
And for the first time in his life, he was in love.
After all, she’d given him the most amazing, incredible gift of his life.
Clint.
All the anxiety and weariness he’d been suffering from faded away that day, replaced by sheer joy.
For a few years, they’d found happiness and managed to forge a family—him, her, Vince, and Clint. He’d landed a great job. They’d bought this house—Denise’s dream house—and life had