CHAPTER FOUR

      DYLAN WAS SURPRISED to discover how much he enjoyed playing with the baby. How good it was to hear that rich chuckle and know that he’d given Tyler a moment of pure happiness. If anyone had told him three weeks ago that he’d be having fun waving a toy duck around and quacking loudly, he would’ve dismissed it as utter insanity. But, this afternoon, it was a revelation.

      He was actually disappointed when Tyler fell asleep.

      Though it wasn’t for long. The baby woke again and started crying, and Dylan picked him up almost on instinct. Then he wrinkled his nose. Revolting. It looked as if he needed another lesson from Emmy. He went to find her in Pete’s study.

      ‘Problem?’ she asked.

      ‘He needs a nappy change. Can you show me how to do it?’

      ‘Ah, no. You’re the one who said, “I do and I understand” is the best. I’ll talk you through it.’

      When they went upstairs to the nursery, Emmy did at least help Dylan get the baby out of his little all-in-one suit, for which he was grateful. But then she stood back and talked him through the actual process of nappy-changing.

      How could someone so small produce something so—so stinky? he wondered.

      He used wipe after wipe to clean the baby.

      And it was only when he realised Emmy was grinning that he thought there might’ve been another way of doing it—one that maybe didn’t use half a box of wipes at a time. ‘So you’re perfect at this, are you?’ he asked, slightly put out.

      ‘No—it usually takes me three or four wipes. Though Ally used to be able to do it in one.’ Her smile faded, and she helped him put Tyler back in his Babygro.

      ‘I’m going to do some work,’ she said. ‘Call me when Tyler needs a bath. His routine’s on the board in the kitchen, so you’ll know when he’s due for a feed. If he’s grizzly before then, try him with a drink. There’s some cooled boiled water in sterilised bottles in the fridge.’

      Again, Dylan was surprised by Emmy’s efficiency. Maybe he’d misjudged her really badly, or he’d just seen her on bad days in the past—a lot of bad days—and taken her the wrong way.

      ‘Oh, and you need to wind him after a feed,’ she added. ‘Hold him upright against your shoulder, rub his back, and he’ll burp for you.’

      ‘Got it.’

      ‘Are you sure you can do this?’

      No. He wasn’t sure at all. But he didn’t want Emmy to think that he was bailing out already. ‘Sure,’ he lied.

      He carried Tyler downstairs and checked the routine board in the kitchen—which Emmy had somehow managed to get written up properly and laminated while he’d been at work. Apparently the baby needed a nap for about an hour; then he’d need a bath and then finally a feed.

      And it was also his turn to make dinner.

      He hadn’t even thought about buying food. He’d only focused on the fact that he’d needed to get everything done and leave the office ridiculously early. He opened the fridge door, and was relieved to discover that there were ingredients for a stir-fry. And there were noodles and soy sauce in the cupboard. OK. He could work with that.

      Now, how did you get a baby to sleep?