Page 25 of The Dating Charade

He set the car seat against the closet door, smoothly slid a couple of checkbooks from the desk drawer into his back pocket, and mentally went through the checklist in his room for any valuables. As he turned, he lifted the blanket for another peek.

“TJ’s his name, you say?” His voice was low, matching the quiet of the room.

Trina peeled off her coat and sat on the bed. She looked as worn out as any woman he’d ever seen, as worn out as their mother had been, battling those same demons long ago.

She nodded and put her face to her hands. “Yeah. TJ.”

Dakota tugged at his arm, then pushed her finger in his face.

“Is he going to need anything? Formula or something?”

“In the bag.” She spoke without opening her eyes, and it was clearer than Dakota’s baby-blue eyes that he could push Trina over with one finger and she’d be asleep before she touched the comforter.

Who knew where she’d come from. How far she traveled just to get here.

Again, Jett looked to the baby. Maybe the tiny being in that car seat would be her miracle baby, bringing her back to life.

He was breaking the rule, but hoping just the same.

“Boo-boo,” Dakota insisted, pushing her finger in his face again.

He kissed her finger and repositioned her on his hip.

“I’ll take it from here. You go on and lay down.”

She moved under the covers without another word. Jett turned to the door, paused, and looked back to the car seat. Several seconds of deliberating went by before he tiptoed over and pulled back the blanket. He watched TJ’s closed lids flutter as he tucked the blanket beneath his small arms, then stepped back and shut the door behind him.

Trumpets blared to the rhythm of a drum line as Jett and his affectionate sloth of a niece moved through the living room. Drew had moved to the couch beside Sunny and was very seriously mimicking whatever gestures Sunny had taken upon himself to demonstrate. Currently, UT was winning.

“Yeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh, baby!” Sunny gave an exaggerated growl as he pounded the air three times and looked expectantly to his toddler comrade.

“Yeeeeeeaaahhhhh, baby!” Drew jumped on the couch and repeated the gesture.

“I’m going to run to the store.” Jett paused, awkwardly uncertain of his new responsibility. “Drew you, uh, wanna come?”

The football on the screen spiraled to the receiver. An eruption of cheers from thousands of orange fans followed.

“We’re good here, man.” Sunny gave a thumbs-up and returned his attention to the game, giving a hardy slap on his thighs as he and Drew started hopping like monkeys.

Jett grabbed his keys and shut the door. He was halfway down the stairs when the realization hit him.

Car seats. Three-year-olds still used car seats, right?

Up the stairs he started again, asking Dakota along the way, “You think you can stay with Sunny and your mom while I run to the store?”

But before he could even get the question out, her nails were digging into his neck. She was scrawny, yes, but she held on as though her fingers were Gorilla Glued to his skin.

He stopped at the door, lingering in the hallway. “Just for a few minutes? I’d be right back. You can watch the football game . . .”

And then she began to wail, the note matching the volume of the siren on his Medic 2–10—yet with the added bonus of being directly against his ear.

“I’ll bring you back a treat, Dakota.” Desperately he grabbed the doorknob. “You still like those sour gummies?”

She raised her pitch an octave higher.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Jett?”