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Of course she’d get that.

“I’m glad you came,” he told her. “And I wish you’d stayed.”

“What do you think would happen if I did?”

In a perfect world, they’d end up together again. In bed. Holding each other. Making love until dawn.

“And then what would happen in the morning?” she asked softly, letting him know her mind was filled with the same memories as his. “Or tomorrow morning? Or the end of next week?” she asked. “I’d want more, Nolan.”

And so would he.

“I’m home. I have to go,” she said, but didn’t immediately hang up. So he did.

He let her go.

Because he was always going to have to let her go. It wasn’t just the responsible thing to do, it was the kind thing to do. Lizzie was accepting his place in her life because she was a great mother. A great human being. She was sharing their daughter with him.

He could be Nolan Fortune, be a father. But he couldn’t have it all.

* * *

On Sunday, Nolan suggested he and Lizzie go shopping for furniture. She was going to pick out whatever she wanted and he was going to foot the bill. The only choice he was going to make was for his own bedroom suite. The rest would be hers.

They had lunch at a pita bar, with her poring over furniture pamphlets as though her life depended on it.

Carmela was gone when they got back to the apartment, with a couple of hours before Nolan had to leave. He’d suggested taking the baby to the mall for pictures with Santa. Lizzie told him Carmela wanted to be there for that. He’d let that go, too.

“She’s soaked!” Lizzie, in jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt with a Christmas tree on the front, was lifting the baby out of her carrier. Glancing over at Nolan, she asked, “You want to change her?”

He did. But...

“I’ve never changed a baby in my life.” He was following her down the hall to her room, though, where, she’d told him during their shopping expedition, she had a changing table. He’d been asking about furnishings for Stella’s room at the time. She’d told him she wanted a crib to match the table she already had.

Laying down Stella, who was wide awake, arms and legs moving in their random way, on the changing table, Lizzie turned to him. “You up for this?”

“Of course!” He’d been in the room before, but somehow this time, seeing the walls crowded with baby things, was a shock. Her life had truly done a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. He’d known, but in that room, it really hit him. Wiping his mind of anything but the moment, he stepped up so close to her their arms were touching, so that he was near enough to tend to his daughter.

“Unsnap her here,” she said as she pointed to a series of snaps running up one leg and down the other. He did as she said, working his fingers gently from snap to snap, undoing each one up her left leg, happy with his ability to reach success even with her flailing legs.

“If you take that long, she’s going to lose patience with you,” Lizzie said. “You’ve got to be quick, or play with her to distract her attention, or she’s going to get mad.” As she spoke she pulled the snaps on the other leg apart with one quick jerk. She pointed to the diapers tucked into a cubby on the top of the table.

“She doesn’t like the cold air on her so I always grab the new one first, have it open and ready to slip under her before I unfasten.”

Conscious of time, he grabbed quickly for the clean diaper but ended up with two. He dropped one, opened the other and put it on the table.

“Spread the sides open, too,” Lizzie said, her fingers touching his as she showed him what she meant.

“Now, pull these tabs...” She pulled one, paused, and he jumped in and did the other. He tried to focus. He did not want to make his daughter angry.

“Here’s the tricky part,” Lizzie said, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I’ll do it this time, you get the next...”

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With a couple of quick flips and a grab, she had Stella’s tiny ankles between a couple of her fingers, the baby’s butt up in the air, soiled diaper gone and new diaper slid into place. All within about two seconds. She took another couple of seconds to wipe the baby down with a cloth she’d grabbed from a dispenser by the diapers, and then the front of the diaper went up in place.

“You want to do that quick—”

“I know, so she doesn’t get mad,” he said, reaching over to pull the second tab and attach it into place when she didn’t follow the first one up.


Tags: Tara Taylor Quinn Romance