"He didn't use sanitizer," I defend, eyeing everyone like they're walking petri dishes. "That’s not my fault."
Clover bounces Noble on her hip, heading our way. "Let me see my nephew," she demands, grinning. "I've been good for a whole ten minutes."
"Hands," I bark.
She rolls her eyes but uses the sanitizer I've strategically placed on every flat surface. "Happy now, psycho?"
"Getting there." I grudgingly step aside, allowing her closer to my wife and son.
"Oh my god, he's gorgeous," Clover breathes, perching beside Wren. Noble stares down at his cousin, but who knows what he’s thinking. "Look, Noble. This is your baby cousin."
Noble reaches out, and I tense, ready to intercept the grabby little hand, but Clover catches it. "Gentle, remember? Like with kitties."
Wren looks up at me, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Relax, Beanie Boy. He's fine."
"I know he's fine," I growl. "Because I'll accept nothing less."
Banks appears, pressing a beer into my hand. "Drink this. You look ready to throw someone through a window."
I take a long pull, the familiar taste of my own brew steadying me slightly. It's Timber's summer wheat—light, crisp, exactly what I needed.
"How's she really doing?" Banks asks quietly, nodding toward Wren, who's showing Summit off like he's the eighth wonder of the world.
Because he is.
"Stubborn as hell," I answer. "Won't take her pain meds because they make her drowsy and she 'doesn't want to miss anything.' Gets up with him every night despite having her stomach sliced open three days ago."
"So... like Clover after Noble was born."
"Pretty much."
Banks claps my shoulder. "Good luck, man. The first few months are brutal. It gets easier, though."
"When? Because I haven't slept more than two hours straight since he showed up."
"Somewhere around the eighteen-year mark, I hear."
I snort, taking another swig. Reed makes his way over to join our little group, eyeing Summit even though he's off the clock. It's reassuring, having him here. Besides Wren, he's the only person I'd trust with my kid.
"Has everyone washed their hands?" I call out, unable to stop myself.
The room erupts in groans.
"Yes, Dad," Navy calls back. "We've all had our flu shots and none of us has licked any door handles recently."
"Hilarious."
"Seriously, though," Reed says, crouching next to Wren to get a better look at Summit. "He's doing great. Strong vitals, good weight gain." He glances up at me with that smirk I want to punch off his face. "Almost like you didn't need to check his breathing every twenty minutes."
"I didn't—" I start to argue, then stop. Because yeah, I absolutely did that. "Whatever. Can't be too careful."
Wren catches my eye, fighting a smile. "Why don't you show Reed the nursery? Maybe get everyone out of here for a bit so this little guy can eat without an audience."
I'm at her side in two steps. "You good? Need anything?"
"Just some space.”
"Come on," I tell the group, reluctant to leave but knowing Wren needs the break. "Quick tour, then we're kicking you all out."
