Page 49 of Can't Win 'Em All
“She was putting herself out there for a little Rex action.” Zach sipped his beer. He wasn’t smiling. “Normally, you would be all ‘go ahead and serve me, wench.’ Then you would’ve given her your patented smile and wink—why do women like that?—and she would’ve shook her ass all the way to the bar.”
That was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. “I would never use the word ‘wench’ when flirting. I mean … come on. I’d still be a virgin if I went that route.”
“And we both know you’re not a virgin. My sister definitely knows.”
I glared at him. “Why?”
He laughed. “You’re so easy to rile up these days.” He leaned back in the booth, resting his arm along the back of it. “I’m not trying to start something—I’m really not—but you seem different somehow.”
“That’s because I’m going to be a father. I’m more mature.”
“You magically got mature in six weeks? That seems like some sort of modern miracle.”
“I was always mature.”
“Right. That’s the word I always conjured when I thought about you. Mature.”
“Don’t give me grief. I’m serious about this.” And I was. Life seemed more serious. Seeing my baby on that ultrasound—even though it didn’t look like a human as much as a sea monkey—had changed things for me. “I want to be a good father, Zach.”
My best friend must have read the seriousness in my tone, because he sobered. “You’re going to be a good father, Rex. That’s one thing I never doubted about you. It’s just … you can still be a good father and flirt.”
“Meh.” I waved away the statement. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Have you even dated since you found out?”
“I didn’t do that much dating before I found out.”
“Good point. Let me rephrase. Have you hooked up with anybody since you found out?”
I shrugged, noncommittal. “I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
Was he kidding me? “Do you have any idea how much work babies are? New parents average six hours of sleep a day when they have a newborn. That’s not six consecutive hours either. You get an hour here and there and you constantly walk around with vomit on your clothes.”
Genuine horror washed over Zach’s features. “Who told you that?”
“Ruby. She’s reading a book a day at this point. They’re getting more and more horrific. It used to be that she would highlight passages about how hungry the baby was going to be, or how often she would need to be changed. Now it’s stuff about cracked nipples and vomit. I think she’s going down a dark path.”
Zach didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he stared.
“I didn’t bring up her potentially cracked nipples on my own,” I assured him. “She made me read a whole chapter on that and then proceeded to force a discussion on my feelings regarding breastfeeding. I told her I didn’t have any strong feelings either way, and then she made me read her pro and con list regarding breastfeeding.”
Zach continued to stare.
“What? It’s not me. It’s your sister.”
“You said she,” he supplied out of the blue.
“Who said she?”
“You did. When referring to the baby, you said she.” He leaned forward. “Is there something I should know?”
“Oh.” I was caught off guard. “Um … we’re having a girl.” Just saying it had me cringing. “Ruby didn’t tell you?”
“No.” He shook his head, a huge smile spreading across his features. “She hasn’t mentioned it.”
“Do you think I wasn’t supposed to mention it?” I was legitimately frightened. When Ruby went on a rampage, she was a force to be reckoned with.
