I looked to Gwen, who was visibly shaken. “Can you grab me a cold washcloth and then brew some chamomile tea?” I asked her while swaying Belle.
She nodded and went toward what I guessed was the kitchen.
Being held by an unfamiliar person didn’t seem to do much for Belle, but I wandered around the beautifully decorated house with her, staying calm and talking to her in a low voice. My memories of a screaming Lexie and a very freaked out teenage me seemed to fly right back in. Although I wasn’t wandering around a tastefully and expensively decorated beachfront home. I had been pacing a small rundown apartment, fielding bangs on the wall from neighbors, scared out of my wits.
Gwen rushed back in with a washcloth and an expression that mirrored one I wore fifteen years ago.
“Here.” She thrust the washcloth at me. “I’m just waiting for the jug to boil,” she said. “Belle is never like this, that’s why I’m seriously worried. Should we call a doctor?”
I took the washcloth and shook my head. “No, she’s just having a tough time with the last of those teeth coming in, aren’t you. sweetie?” I asked as I gently put the cool washcloth in her mouth.
She struggled at first, then her little mouth registered the cool relief that came with the soft cloth. She started to quiet and sucked on the cloth, her little hands clutching the edges.
Gwen looked at me with wide eyes. “Seriously? A cold washcloth? Why didn’t I think of that? Oh my gosh, I’m a terrible mother,” she groaned with a hand on her head, the other cupping her small bump.
I shifted my grip so I could pat Gwen’s arm. “You are far from a terrible mother. You are a tired, caring and very worried mother,” I told her. I gazed at the beautiful little girl, who seemed a lot more placid.
I moved to a seat, which I nodded toward. “Sit down. Relax,” I instructed, my tone firm. If she didn’t sit she looked like she might collapse. Watching your child scream pretty much drained the life out of you.
She sank into the sofa and her face softened at the way the baby was happily suckling on the washcloth, the pain and screaming forgotten.
“Thank you so much, Mia. I seriously felt like I was at my wit’s end,” she declared laying back.
I smiled in understanding, sitting across from her. “I’m glad I could help.”
We sat there for a while, chatting and generally hanging out. I gave Gwen a couple more little secrets that got me through teething and the terrible twos without checking myself into a mental institution. Like soaking the cold washcloth in the cooled down tea, which made Belle drift off to sleep in my arms. When Belle was safely asleep, Gwen looked at me with a serious glint in her eye. “Can I ask you something?”
I sensed this question was not baby related. “Sure,” I replied easily.
Her question was silenced by a familiar rumble, one which made us both turn our heads the window.
“Well, looks like the menfolk are home, just in time to miss the tears and drama…typical,” Gwen declared on a grin.
I smiled back at the clear love and affection that lay behind that simple grin. The way her whole body had seemed to relax at the sound of those Harley pipes. I wished I could feel like that. Trust myself to feel like that again. But I was worried that that same love would blind me and a fist to the face would serve as a grim reminder. Or more dangerously, a figurative fist to the heart.
Cade walked into the room, his boots sounding on the floor. He gave me a half grin and his eyes rested on the baby in my arms for a second.
“Mia,” he nodded.
“Hey, Cade,” I greeted brightly, my womanly hormones standing at attention to see such a male specimen up so close.
Said lady hormones did cartwheels at the soft look that crossed the hard biker’s face once he settled on Gwen. He wordlessly made it over to her, clasping her neck and roughly pulling her mouth to touch his.
“Baby,” he murmured into her mouth.
I swear to God I almost blushed at this intimate scene. I’m a woman, of a certain age, with a kid for crissakes, and I almost blushed. Those bikers have super sex powers. I ignored the pang for such an intimate moment with my own biker. Never gonna happen.
Gwen smiled at Cade, her eyes twinkling. “You missed your daughter showcasing her impressive set of pipes and Mia flying in here with her superhero cape to save the day,” she told him seriously. Her eyes flickered to the door. “Hey Bull,” she greeted warmly.
I jumped. Luckily my movement didn’t wake the sleeping baby in my arms. My head spun to see Bull leaning on the doorframe…no, taking up the entire doorframe. His eyes locked on mine. Fury danced underneath them.
“Gwen,” he grunted in response, not taking his eyes off me.
I swallowed. After the night at the club, I couldn’t get enough of him. If it was possible, the sex got even more wild. I had been at his place almost every night in the week since the party.
Gwen did not seem to take offense at the monosyllabic greeting, nor at the fact his stare stayed locked on mine. This time I actually did blush and looked at my lap.
“So,” Cade said, his eyes flickering between Bull and I before focusing on his wife. “Mia and her cape?” he asked in a flat tone that hinted amusement.
I was surprised. I didn’t think staunch bikers were capable of such a frivolous emotion.
Gwen shook herself. She too had been inspecting Bull and my wordless exchange. I wondered whether I had some sort of stamp on my forehead saying ‘was fucked senseless by the biker now attempting to murder me with a glare’. There was no way to rub my head self-consciously.
“Yeah, so since you were off on a top secret biker mission and incommunicado, I had to look elsewhere for some mad baby whisperer skills,” she started. “My best friend’s only talent when it comes to babies is accessorizing. I thanked my lucky stars that my marvelous new friend Mia has experience with the critters,” she joked, smiling at me.