Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,411

not feeding Wiener all the cocktail wieners or we’re going to have bigger problems than this stinker right here.” Miller holds the screaming baby at arm’s length, his face contorted into a grimace. “I think it’s the broccoli soup that does this to him.” He heads for the cottage.

“Logan!” Sunny calls out, and I follow her gaze to the table of food set up about twenty feet away.

Her son is indeed feeding cocktail wieners to Wiener. He pulls the treat away every time Wiener gets close so the dog has to jump for them, making his ears flap and Logan burst into a fit of giggles. It’s cute, but if the dog gets the human treat, the cottage is going to smell like rotten dog fart for the rest of the weekend.

“I’ll take Liam; you deal with Logan,” I offer. Turns out the reason Sunny looked so pregnant at the end of last season was because she was incubating two babies instead of one.

Sunny glances from Logan to the squirming kid in her arms to me.

“I can handle it,” I assure her.

Prior to all of my teammates having babies, I hadn’t had much exposure, but when your best friend has a kid, it sort of forces you to figure out how to become an honorary uncle. I may not be one-hundred-percent natural around kids, but I can definitely watch one for a few minutes without the world coming to an end.

Sunny passes the little guy off to me. “Thanks. I’ll be right back!”

“Take your time.” He’s half asleep, or at least he is until he’s out of his mom’s arms and into mine. “How’s it going, buddy?”

He shouts nonsense in my face and cranes to find his mom.

“She’ll be back. She’s dealing with your older brother. He’s getting up to no good over there.” I have no idea how much he understands, but his little fists jab out, reaching for my sunglasses.

I find a lounger and rearrange Liam so he’s stretched out in my lap, feet pushing into my stomach.

“Look at you.” Charlene smiles as she crosses the lawn, a beer in one hand and some kind of girly drink in the other. She drops into the chair beside mine and pulls out her phone, snapping a bunch of pictures. “You better be careful, Mr. Westinghouse.”

“Why’s that?” I tickle the bottom of Liam’s feet, and he bursts into a fit of giggles.

“It almost looks like you’re enjoying this. People will start asking when you’re going to knock me up.”

“You let me know when you’re ready for that, and we can jump on the baby bandwagon.”

She laughs, but her expression shifts to contemplative. “Are you serious?”

“I want whatever you want, Charlene. You know that.” I give his little tummy a tickle, and he giggles again and then farts. It doesn’t sound dry. “Oh, you just did that, didn’t you? I guess I better trade off with Miller.” I lean over to give Charlene a quick kiss. “I’ll be back in a few.”

She grabs the front of my shirt, keeping our lips locked together long enough for her to get her tongue in my mouth for a stroke or two before she pulls back. “I love you.”

“And I love you, firefly.” I kiss the end of her nose, and she releases my shirt. I take Liam to the cottage and run into Violet on the way.

She’s cradling a sleepy-looking baby Robbie. She raises a brow when she sees me holding Liam at arm’s length. He definitely crapped his pants—the smell is getting worse, not better.

Violet’s all smirky. I assume it’s because I’m holding him like he’s a nuclear bomb, not a kid, but if the diaper starts leaking, I don’t want to wear his crap, thank you very much.

“Better not let Charlene see you with Liam.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s baby central in here, and it’s only a matter of time before her ovary clock starts ticking.”

“Oh, well, nothing to worry about there. She’s already seen me, and I already told her I’m happy to knock her up whenever she’s ready.”

Liam lets another fart rip, and Violet and I grimace at each other.

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s get that taken care of before he explodes all over the place.”

I follow her down the hall to Robbie’s bedroom, which is right next door to hers and Alex’s. She pats the changing table, and I lay Liam down. He’s started squawking, probably annoyed because he’s marinating in his own crap. Violet puts Robbie in his crib,