Page 89 of The Curveball
“You can’t distract me with random facts right now, little mama. It doesn’t matter what other parents have done, what matters is that we do it right.”
“Brady,” I start gently, “if you think we’re never going to screw up parenting Ivy, then you’re in for a lot of disappointment. I’m pretty sure it’s the law that every parent messes up at least once a month.”
He straightens and immediately holds his lower back as he arches. Yeah, there’s not a chance I’m letting him sleep on the tiny couch they have in here for another night.
“Why do you have to be so logical, it makes me feel like I’m crazy,” he grumbles as he moves to sit on the bed beside me. His finger gently strokes Ivy’s cheek. “You’re the hormonal one, shouldn’t you be freaking out?”
I lift my hand to smack him, careful not to jostle the sleeping baby. “Watch it, Dixon.”
He chuckles, bending over to kiss our daughter and then me. “Yeah, yeah.”
We sit in a peaceful silence, staring down at our precious, beautiful girl. She’s been a dream so far, but it’s only been twenty-four hours.
I wince as something pinches in my stomach. The lingering aches and pains from giving birth should fade over the next few days, and Brady has been so attentive and helpful, I’ve barely had to lift a finger.
A soft knock on the door has our nurse for today coming in with a packet of paperwork.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but there’s a few things to go over before we let you go.”
From then on, it’s a whirlwind of changing and feeding Ivy again, getting everything packed up, and getting her settled into the car seat. Then finally, we’re able to leave. Brady walks beside me, hisThunder baseball cap on backward, the car seat in one hand, and our hospital bag slung over his other shoulder.
Letting anything happen between my legs is the last thing on my mind, but damn, the man is sexy as hell.
I, on the other hand, am a disaster. Waddling in my mesh panties, wearing oversized sweats, and in desperate need of a shower. Yet, when Brady looks over at me, his expression makes it clear he thinks I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
When we get home, Brady fixes me with a stare. “Stay right there, little mama.” He hops out of the car, jogs around to my side, and opens my door before reaching in as if to lift me out.
“I can get out of a car.” I laugh, swatting him away. He huffs, but steps back and just watches as I carefully and slowly climb out. I only wince in pain once. Okay, twice.
“See?” I say, giving him a pert smile.
“You just gave birth yesterday. What’s wrong with wanting to take care of you?” he grumbles good-naturedly.
“Absolutely nothing, but I’m not an invalid. Now come on, let’s take our baby girl inside.”
We make our way up to the apartment, and I push open the door to find pink and purple streamers and balloons everywhere.
Fiona, Blair, and Barrett are standing right in the entryway with big smiles on their faces.
“Surprise!” they say in a quiet cheer.
Brady steps up beside me, and when I look over, hiseyes are shining. “What are you two doing here? What about school?”
“It’s not the end of the world if we miss one day, don’t go bro-dad on us. You’re a real dad now,” Blair teases, stepping forward to pull me into a hug. “Besides, did you really think we wouldn’t want to meet our niece immediately?”
Ignoring Brady, she drops into a crouch in front of the car seat he’s still holding. “Oh my God, look at her!”
Barrett’s next, also giving me a gentle hug. “Hey Sage, congrats.”
“Thanks, you two, I’m really happy you’re here to meet her,” I say, feeling my eyes well up.
Fiona takes my arm and leads me away from the three Dixon siblings, who are now cooing over Ivy. “Okay, that’s my cue to get you into the shower so you can have a minute to yourself.”
I meet Brady’s gaze, and he gives me a nod. “I’ve got her, little mama.”
With that, I let my best friend lead me down the hall to my bedroom. I eye the bed longingly, but Fiona laughs and drags me into the bathroom. “Nope, no sleep. Did you or did you not text me at five in the morning today, complaining about how desperately you wanted a shower?”
I wince. “Right. Sorry about that, In my defense, I was sweaty and sticky.”
