Daddy Undercover (Crescent Cove Book 9)

by Taryn Quinn

I was pretty sure anyway.

  He shot me an affronted look as he dug through bags and grabbed the ones with food in them. “You know I don’t use Axe, but mine isn’t a particularly feminine scent. Will she be confused?”

  “Because she smells like grass and trees? I think she’ll probably be fine. Right, pretty girl?”

  Her mouth worked like a guppy’s, and she gazed at me, but no sounds came out. I wanted to tickle her belly and see if I could make her giggle again. That was the best sound in the world.

  Turned out I could make her laugh more, and I didn’t even have to try that hard.

  “You’re a little water baby.” I splashed water on her in the big farmhouse double kitchen sink while Jared lurked awkwardly in the background, handing me bottles and towels and asking if I needed anything.

  Samantha giggled—no questioning it now—and banged her feet in the water as I carefully soaped her up.

  “She has a birthmark,” I said over my shoulder.

  He stood next to me, swallowing audibly. “A strawberry one.”

  “Yeah.” I touched the little mark near her knee. “Do you want to try soaping her hair?”

  “Okay.”

  I had to laugh at his trepidation. “Trust me, she’s easy. I’ve given baths to babies who screamed the whole time. She loves water. Right, Samantha?” I tested the name while I slowly poured some warm water over her legs.

  Unless I was mistaken, she hadn’t had a bath recently, and I was trying to push down the anger simmering inside me.

  How could a mother abandon her child? Just leave her in a basket on the doorstep of a man she hadn’t seen in a year?

  “Did her biological mother know you were a cop?”

  “Sheriff,” he corrected, and I hipchecked him, making him laugh.

  The baby giggled, looking right at her father, and he fell silent immediately.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He blew out a breath and shut his eyes. “Is this going to get easier?”

  “Yes. Just relax. You’re not being graded. And look how cute she is.” I nudged him until he opened his eyes again.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “She looks like you. I hope you aren’t being narcissistic.” I was deliberately teasing him, hoping he would shake off his nerves and wash her hair. But that would require touching her, and he seemed reluctant to do that.

  “You think so?”

  “Look at this little wrinkle right here.” I smoothed my thumb between her faint brows, and she splashed her feet in the small amount of water in the sink. “Totally a Brooks trait. Mason has the same one.”

  “You’ve looked at Mason enough to know, hmm?”

  I gave him a sidelong glance. He was being strange tonight. “Are you going to wash her hair or not?”

  “I’ll do it.” He grabbed his bottle of shampoo as if he was a doctor reaching for his scalpel and then squeezed it into his palm. The thick gel flowed onto his wrist. “Too much?”

  “No, it’s fine.” He had to have a win right now, so I’d just agree. Hopefully, she didn’t have terribly sensitive skin. “Go ahead,” I encouraged when he hovered over her head.

  She peered up at him, not seeming afraid. Just curious. Her eyes were so huge and startlingly blue. I didn’t know if they’d stay that color, but they were close to Jared’s so I hoped so.

  Yeah, I was sort of failing at that whole ‘keeping my heart at a safe distance’ thing.

  Gently, he rubbed the shampoo into her downy hair, smiling as she let out one of her patented giggle-hiccups. I helped by rubbing a few of the soapy bubbles into the fluff over her ear and into some of the straggly hair at the base of her scalp, and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to stare at me or him.

  “See, she likes it. That warm water feels nice, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I like it.” He shot me a sidelong grin, and I realized how close together we were standing, how our heads were bent at the same angle, how his thigh was pressing into my hip…

  Too much. Abort.

  I jerked away from them and grabbed a dishtowel. “Looks like you have the hang of it.” Somehow my tone seemed cheerful, not desperately horny. At least I hoped so.

  Having those kind of urges around a baby couldn’t be right. Then again, maybe the kid was stirring up all of this. The desire to procreate was instinctual. It wasn’t because his trousers cupped and stretched just right around certain body parts that should not be highlighted in any way.

  “Tired?”

  Was I imagining the disappointment in the question? Probably. Exhaustion could make a person hear and see things that weren’t there.

  “Yeah, it was a long day.”

  “You’re telling me. And I’m on at six.”

  “You didn’t call anyone while I was at the store.”

  He shook his head.

  Of course he hadn’t.

  “I’m on at three. If you can get off—I mean, if you can be home before then, I can watch the baby.”

  Oh, hi, flaming cheeks, welcome back to the party.

  “I can do that.” Relief moved through his big frame, making his shoulders sag even as if he continued to carefully shampoo his daughter’s hair. She didn’t have much of it, but he seemed to need to make sure every fine strand was saturated. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “I don’t mind. She’s a sweetheart. Aren’t you, Samantha?” I touched her wrinkly leg, and she craned her neck to look at me in that owlish way of hers.

  “Thank you. Seriously. You don’t know how much this means to me.” His intense blue gaze settled on me, and it was a damn miracle I didn’t shiver. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

  With your cock might be nice.

  Obviously, I needed sleep. I couldn’t claim I never had errant thoughts like these, but I didn’t make a habit of them more than, well, two or three times a day max. Sometimes I went longer than that. Often, I had whole stretches of days where he was my best friend, period. Times I didn’t even notice how well he filled out his pants—back and front.

  Tonight I was setting all new records in his direction, and I nor my screaming hormones appreciated it.

  “You don’t owe me anything. But this is just a temporary situation. Both of our lives are too busy to juggle this way for long without bringing in additional help now and then. You need to tell people. Even if you start with just my mom.”

  “What is she going to think of me?”

  “Shh. Don’t get shouty.”

  “I’m not shouty.” He took a deep breath and splashed some warm water on the baby’s thoroughly shampooed head. “I hope.”

  “That’s better. Slightly.”

  Normally, he was always even-tempered. Not tonight. I couldn’t say I blamed him, but the baby reacted to every modulation of our voices.

  Actually, Sadie did more often than not too. The only reason we were having a brief respite from her nosing into what we were doing was because we’d given her a bone to occupy herself after she’d abandoned the new pig. As soon as she got tired of gnawing on it, she’d be all up in our business again.

  “Bonnie has old-fashioned values,” he said as he mindlessly added more shampoo to Samantha’s already saturated head. Some trickled down into her eyes, and she let out a cry. He cracked his elbow against the faucet and swore as he struggled to turn on the water at a fuller blast with his sudsy hands.

  “Wait, don’t move.”

  I didn’t want the baby’s eyes to burn, but I had to get this shot. I tugged my older, smaller style iPhone out of my bra and aimed, managing to get Jared’s surprised expression and Samantha’s full head of bubbles an instant before her warning cry turned into sobs.

  Somehow their expressions mirrored each other, and that was one more tug at the chest.

  “You’ll thank me later,” I said as I sprung into action to get rid of all the shampoo.

  She kept whimpering as I cleaned her up, but when I bundled her into
the soft towel I’d dug out of the linen closet for this very purpose, she quieted almost immediately.

  “That’s a love. Much better, right? You’re all squeaky clean. Show your daddy those rosy cheeks.” I peeled back the flap of towel that had fallen over her face, and she ducked back, making me laugh. “Are you playing hide and seek?”

  She did it again, and I couldn’t stop laughing as I shifted toward Jared.

  Only he wasn’t there. The kitchen was empty.

  I sighed as I cuddled her close, indulging both of us. “He’ll figure it out,” I murmured against her hair. Now she smelled just like her father. “You’ll see. Once he does, he’ll be the best daddy ever. Don’t you worry.”

  I just hoped he’d get there sooner rather than later.

  Six

  I was celebrating my first half week as a father by buying a Christmas tree. Yes, it was mostly under duress, but I was doing it just the same. And my reward when I got home would be to help decorate it.

  Yay.

  I supposed it could be worse. I could be watching the kid right now, a task that brought a whole host of concerns and confusion.

  Somehow we’d managed to coordinate our work schedules the past half week so that someone was always with the baby. Gina hadn’t made a big deal about it or needed to have some long, awkward discussion. She’d just slapped a whiteboard up on the side of the fridge and added our work schedules so we always had coverage.

  The next few weeks were blank so far, but I was certain she’d add her schedule to those days too. Maybe she hadn’t gotten her hours firmed up yet because of the oncoming holidays.

  Which was the reason my fingers were stiff and frozen since I’d forgotten my gloves while I was doing my assigned duty.

  Gina stood beside the driveway, grinning with an armful of baby.

  I pointed at her as I came around the back of the Jeep. “It’s not even Thanksgiving, and you had me tromping around a Christmas tree lot on a Sunday. My one day off, barring any murders or parking with added additional lascivious behaviors.”

  Gina was unrepentant. “I did. And do you know why?”

  “Because you’re a sadist?”

  Granted, she was probably the cutest sadist ever. She had a jaunty elf’s hat perched on her head and her long braid tossed over the bright green vest she wore with a white blouse, tight jeans and riding boots. Ones that climbed up her long legs and made a man think about things he should not be pondering under any circumstances.

  Her best accessory was the baby on her hip, currently playing with the zipper on her vest. She found it so fascinating she’d barely spared a glance for me while I’d been untying my new acquisition from the roof of my vehicle.

  In the five days since I’d known I was a father, Samantha’s interest in Gina had far outweighed her curiosity toward me. She studied me a lot. Actually, she did the same often with Sadie and Gina too. But she smiled at Gina. Even occasionally giggled, usually because my best friend had made it her life’s work to coax that sound from her. It sounded more like gas to me, but I didn’t know much about babies.

  Especially mine.

  “Hmm. That’s the one you chose?” Gina was circling the Jeep, eyeing the tree halfway untied with a critical gaze.

  “Isn’t that obvious? Why?”

  She poked at a few branches near the center. “It’s kind of Charlie Brown-ish. They couldn’t be running out already?”

  “Woman, you’re crazy. Charlie Brown’s tree was sparse. This is full all over. Rex just helped pat it down so it wasn’t a vehicular hazard. If it came loose on the highway, or if branches fell off and obstructed a driver’s vision—what?” I demanded as she snorted.

  “You’re such a cop.”

  “I am, yes. And you’re such a…Gina.”

  “Did you turn to law enforcement because you lack an advanced vocabulary?”

  Ignoring her, I continued unsecuring the tree. She loved busting my balls. Knowing my luck, my daughter bearing silent witness would lead to her growing up doing the same.

  As I worked, I tried to ignore the itch between my shoulder blades. Not the first time I’d had that feeling. It had started approximately when Gina had shown up Tuesday night.

  Nothing was how it used to be, no matter how we pretended. Gina spent tons of time at my place now. When I came down in the morning, she was usually already up and loading the dishwasher or making something warm and hearty for breakfast. The smell of fresh coffee always got me up, even if I had to take the first few minutes to orient myself.

  And my dog—who’d just last week faithfully slept at the foot of my bed every night—was typically prancing along behind her, hoping for scraps of egg or biscuit or whatever else she could procure.

  The baby was usually in her swing, watching. Sometimes dozing. Sometimes crying. Often she’d be sucking on a bottle. But most of the time, she tracked Gina’s every move as if it was her job.

  I couldn’t blame the kid.

  “Do you need some help getting that in?”

  I tugged down the tree, managing narrowly to keep it from toppling over on Gina and the baby. Her eyes had widened until they were like saucers as she gazed up at those heavy—and full, thank you very much—branches.

  “I’m good.” Mostly. “You found the tree skirt?”

  “I did, but it was musty. I had to air it out. How long has it been since you’ve used it?”

  “A couple of years.”

  “You didn’t put up your tree last year? I knew you wouldn’t if I didn’t help.”

  I didn’t answer as I hoisted the tree and headed for the steps. Gina had been working a lot of double shifts last Christmas, so yeah, I hadn’t taken the time to get a tree. Why bother when she was usually the only person I had over? Sure, sometimes the guys stopped by for a night of beer and poker, but those times were getting rarer as they shot out babies.

  Well, they themselves weren’t shooting out the babies, but their significant others were. And now I’d shot out one too, in a matter of speaking. I just didn’t have a wife or girlfriend keeping me warm on the regular like they did.

  “Grab the door, would you?”

  She was already darting around me to go up the stairs, the baby hanging backward a bit to keep an eye on me and the tree. Her expression wasn’t quite horrified, but it was close.

  “She thinks the tree is big.” I pointed toward the kid as I hit the top step.

  Gina backed into the door to hold it open and laughed down at the baby. “Honey, that only looks huge to you because you haven’t seen many yet.”

  “Let’s hope you aren’t that picky about size in all areas. I’ve got it now,” I added when Gina flashed me a wide-eyed glance of her own.

  We traded sexual innuendoes now and then. Sometimes they were downright dirty, but that was rare.

  Since I’d found the baby on my doorstep, however, they’d flowed between us like wine. Mostly from my direction. I couldn’t even entirely say why, except that Gina holding my kid did something to me. Made me see her in a different way. Almost like I couldn’t deny she was a sexy, competent woman when she had her arms full of baby.

  My baby.

  And those boots of hers were not helping matters. Neither were those skintight jeans, clinging to her curves. She didn’t think she had any. She’d made so many cracks about her pancake ass, but I didn’t agree. Every part of her was made just right.

  Even if I had no business noticing.

  “Uh, I thought it could go right there.” She pointed as I finally got the tree through the door, minus a few of the less hardy branches.

  “I’m not going to make a joke about being good at fitting into tight spaces.” I tried not to huff and puff as I carted the tree across the room. It wasn’t that heavy but branches kept springing out in every direction, including a half inch from my left eye. “I don’t want to be predictable.”

  “Oh, you’re definitely not that lately,” she muttered from behind me.

  I put down
the tree and screwed it into the wheeled base I’d had forever before stepping back to dust off my hands. The scent of fresh pine stung my nostrils, and I cocked my head, surveying my choice. “It needs to be adjusted, but I think it works.”

  I glanced over my shoulder just as Gina bent to lower the baby into her swing, offering me a glimpse of a smooth slice of golden skin just above her waistband. She didn’t have ink there. Only freckles. A roadmap of them I wanted to follow underneath the denim.

  Damn, what was wrong with me lately? A few inappropriate looks or the occasional sex dream were one thing. But lusting after my bestie while she sang “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” bordered on kinky.

  “That’s a girl. You’re such a good sleeper already. Long as you’ve had your bottle and a diaper change, something your daddy wouldn’t know about since you always conveniently poop when he’s MIA.” She straightened and slid me her trademark grin, her dark eyes dancing.

  I grinned back. “Not conveniently. Soon as I hear her stomach rumbling, I’m gone.”

  “Is rumbling a code word for fart? You’re such a gentleman.”

  “There are some things you never say about a lady.”

  “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

  “Depends on the situation.”

  “So, school me then, Brooks. What is too much to say?”

  There was a devil sitting on my shoulder. Or else he was currently perched in my pants and directly responsible for the half hard cock I hoped like hell she didn’t notice. Good thing I’d worn my jacket to the Christmas tree farm. Next time, I’d add a super long scarf slash possible penis shield.

  Next time? You think she’ll be still spending so much time here with you and the baby next year? She has a life. She could be dating someone by then. Or worse.

  “Mentioning farts or belches or anything bodily function related,” I said quickly, causing her eyebrow to spike.

  “That’s a boldface lie. You always make fun of me for belching.”

  “Well, it sounds like you’re summoning a demon.” I laughed as she walloped my arm. “Try a little harder. That was like a tickle.”

  “Want me to use my full strength on you, Brooks?”