Expecting it All (Punishment Pit #7) - Livia Grant Page 0,24

their driveway that the first inkling of panic set in. Rachel turned her car to head into the city, to attend the bridal shower being thrown for her good friend, Tiffany. It was only a few more weeks before Tiffany was set to marry his best friend, Master Lukus, in a New Year's Eve wedding extravaganza.

As if he'd been waiting for his mother to leave, Michael chose the moment she disappeared around the corner to wake up with a wail. The sound of his crying came through the baby monitor only feet away from Derek.

I can do this.

Derek took the steps two at a time to get up to his son's nursery. Most nights, they had the baby sleep in his bassinet next to their bed, but they'd started having him nap during the day in his crib. By the time Derek stood beside the railing and looked down at his young son, the baby's cheeks were red from his cries. Derek reached in to scoop the baby into his arms, snuggling him close.

He had made a lot of progress in the few weeks since his perceptive wife had stopped letting her family come over every day. At first he'd been nervous about doing the simplest things for his young son. He thought the baby was too delicate and that he'd accidentally hurt him. Bless Rachel for being patient with him as she taught him that the baby was more resilient than he appeared.

"Shhh, little man. What's the problem?"

As if he wanted to answer his father, Michael renewed his cries of displeasure with more vigor.

"Okay. Okay. You have a wet diaper? Daddy can fix that."

Derek couldn't say he was a pro yet, but he had mastered the art of changing diapers. He tried not to think about the practice he'd gotten on his son's mother. When he found the baby's diaper dry, he was perplexed.

"Are you ready to eat already? Your mommy fed you not long before she left."

The next fifteen minutes felt like the longest of Derek's lifetime. He paced, rocked, coddled, and even resorted to singing, but nothing would appease his young son. It was as if he knew his mommy had left the house without him, and he wasn't going to rest again until she came home.

When his hail Mary of preparing a bottle didn't stop the cries, Derek did the only thing left he could think of. He grabbed his phone.

His best friend, Lukus, answered almost immediately. "I'm glad you called. This waiting around with Tiff off at her shower blows."

Derek didn't even get a word in before Lukus shouted even louder, "What the hell is going on over there? You beating that kid?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny. He won't settle down. What should I do?"

Lukus snorted. "How the hell should I know? I know less about babies than you do. Why did you call me instead of Rach?"

"Because she needs a break. I don't want to bother her," Derek said.

"So call your mom. She'd love to come help."

"I can't. She's out in California with my dad, visiting Dylan and Hannah."

Michael's crying went up another notch. Derek was walking and swaying, but nothing was helping. "Please. You're stressed over there, waiting on your own. Come wait here with me," he begged Lukus.

Lukus chuckled. "I must be desperate. I'll be there in fifteen. Get the kid happy before I get there."

The call dropped. Derek sure hoped the baby would be happy by the time Lukus arrived. He took a new binkie out of its wrapper and slid it between his son's lips. It helped calm Michael for about one full minute before the crying started anew. The pacifier fell to the floor, barely used.

By the time Lukus arrived, Derek was seriously considering calling an ambulance. Babies didn't just cry for no reason. Something had to be wrong.

Lukus must have heard the wails from outside because he let himself into the kitchen. Derek didn't miss his friend's look of terror as he glanced over at the pacing father. Derek would have loved to give him shit about it—but he probably didn't look much better himself.

"He still won't shut up, eh?" Lukus prodded.

"Very perceptive of you."

"Fuck off."

"Hey, don't cuss in front of my kid."

"If you wanted Mary Poppins, you called the wrong guy. I told you, I know jack about taking care of babies."

"Didn't you help your mom take care of your baby sister?" Derek asked.

"Hell no. I was twelve when Zoie was born. I was too busy with sports to