Page 23 of Daddy Detectives: Episode 1
When it finally dawns on me that it’s morning already, and I didn’t wake up once in the night, I shoot up into a sitting position. “Oh, my God, I slept through the night!”
Tyler nods as he coos at Lizzie. Clearly this isn’t news to him. “I’m glad. You needed a good night’s sleep.”
“But—didn’t they wake up during the night?”
He nods. “I handled it.”
The digital clock on the nightstand reads eight-thirty.Holy crap.I slept eight hours straight. “When did they—”
“We did bottles around four, and again now.”
I can hear Will in his bassinette, cooing and kicking his legs, clearly awake and not the least bit upset. I spot a second bottle on the little table between the chairs by the window, but it’s empty, which means he already fed Will.
I fall back in bed with a groan, astonished that I slept through two feedings, as well as grateful to Tyler for handling it, but also feeling guilty for not doing my share. I should have helped. I can’t believe I didn’t hear them.
“You should have awakened me,” I say, admittedly sounding a bit petulant.
Tyler shakes his head. “No, you needed sleep.” He props Lizzie on his shoulder and pats her back until she lets out a loud burp. “That’s my girl! All done.” He sets her empty bottle down next to the other one, rises from his chair, and brings her to me, laying her beside me. “Hang out with your daddy while I get dressed.”
A moment later, I hear the water running in the shower. I’d love to join him, but I don’t want to miss out on this cuddle time with Lizzie. I roll onto my side so I can gaze down at her. Her big blue eyes latch onto my face, and she just stares at me. I know I’m biased—because I’m one of her fathers—but I swear she’s got to be the most beautiful little girl in the world. “Who’s a beautifullittle princess?” I smile at her, hoping she’ll respond with a smile of her own.
She keeps staring wide eyed, occasionally blinking, but there’s no other reaction. I’ll have to Google when babies start smiling.
Will makes his displeasure known then. I think he realizes he’s missing out on family time. I hop up and grab him and bring him back to bed with me. When I lay him next to his sister, they turn to look at each other. Their hands catch, and even though it’s probably just a random reflex, they’re holding hands.
“I hope you two will be best friends,” I say as I lie on my side and gaze down at them.
A moment later, the water in the bathroom shuts off. Tyler joins us shortly after, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His chest—OMG, his chest! And those broad shoulders and muscular arms. I could stare for hours.
“What’s on the agenda today?” he asks as he sits beside me on the bed and towel dries his hair.
“Well, diaper changes first, and then we’ll see. Probably morning naps before long.”
He chuckles. “For you, or for the babies?”
“Funny.” I swat his arm. “I meant for the babies.”
“That’s pretty much all they do, you know,” Tyler says. “Eat, sleep, and shit.”
I swat him again. “Don’t talk about our children that way. It’s disrespectful. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s typical for babies at this age. Growing and developing is hard work.”
Tyler pats my hip. “I’ll get dressed, and then we can change diapers. Afterwards, I’ll make us some breakfast, and we can sit outside on the patio to eat and have our coffee while the babies get some sunshine.”
“You read my mind,” I say as I swing my feet to the floor. And I smile because my life has taken a turn I never expected and never could have dreamed of.
Chapter 10 – Tyler
On Friday afternoon, we arrive right on time for our appointment with Ian’s attorney. Fortunately, his office is located in downtown Chicago just blocks from the restaurant where we’ll be dining tonight.
Leo Granville is in his late sixties with white hair and blue eyes. He’s wearing a Rolex and an impressive pair of diamond cuff links that are probably real. He’s dressed in a light gray, pin-striped suit, a pale lavender dress shirt, and a purple paisley tie. There’s a silk hanky peeking out of his breast pocket. Fancy.
Ian and I are seated on two emerald green, upholstered armchairs in front of the attorney’s huge mahogany desk. I cross one leg over the other, my foot bouncing as I brush at imaginary lint on my pantleg. I’m definitely feeling out of place here, as the attorney drones on about grantors and assets and trustees. Apparently, I’m now a grantor, along with Ian. I told him he didn’t have to do that. It’shismoney.Hisinheritance.
I remember when we first started dating and Ian’s father, Martin, warned me to stay away from his son, or else he’d get me fired. The irony is, I did get fired, but not because of anything Martin did. I got fired for going against departmental policy when I searched for Ian’s missing sister and saved her from a sex trafficking ring.
At the time, Martin assumed that I, a lowly homicide detective, was after Ian for his money. I laughed in his face. I would have gladly signed a prenup in a heartbeat, only Ian refused to have one drawn up, despite the advice of legal counsel. Fortunately, Martin and I are on excellent terms now—probably because I saved his daughter’s life. He knows I haveIan’s best interests at heart, and he trusts me to take good care of his son.
As Granville talks, Ian nods and offers a comment occasionally, even going so far as to make suggestions. He seems to understand it all.
