At 2: 30 p.m. that afternoon, Claire opened her eyes. Her lips parted to make way for a small yawn. Her body was feeling lighter. Her mood was all the way up...until she walked downstairs and found Apollo Ashford moving things into her house.
She stopped at the bottom stair, rubbing her eyes. When she looked again, he was still there in her living room, crouched like a kid on Christmas morning, surrounded by towers of packages. He was grinning from ear to ear, pulling out baby gear for the elderly couple to see.
Claire decided to ignore him for now and fill her stomach. Wilder set down a plate of garlic butter shrimp with jasmine rice and avocado for her. The shrimp were plump, their shells crisped to a golden edge. Claire started to drool before she even took the first bite.
Immediately, she closed her eyes and moaned. The shrimp was rich and savory, each chew a balance of crunch and melt. The garlic was sharp but mellowed by butter.
As a food researcher herself, Claire had to give Wilder her credit. Her grandmother could cook! The woman should have been running the kitchen of a five star hotel, not bending over the small kitchen in this house where her talents remained hidden.
Claire ate slowly, as if the act of savoring lunch could shield her from Apollo’s chaos.
Apollo, meanwhile, was narrating his haul like a shopping assistant. "Diapers, six different brands. Enough to last through the first six months so we will not have a diaper emergency! Clothes for a boy or girl baby, but mostly girl because let’s face it, she’s going to be a girl." He rose and walked toward Claire with a package in hand. "Pajamas for you, Claire." He placed them on the table, returned to the boxes and brought back more surprises. "I chose soft cotton ones. Breathable. Nursing bras, postpartum wraps, slippers, nipple cream, breast pads, sterilizers, warm water bottles, and --oh--a nightlight shaped like a mermaid."
Claire raised an eyebrow mid-bite. "You forgot to bring the entire store with you, including the building."
Apollo ignored the jab, holding up a pair of fuzzy slippers. He knelt down, gently sliding them onto her feet. "Try these. Non-slip and soft as clouds. You will thank me when you are pacing the nursery at 3 a.m."
Claire’s eyes widened in horror. Apollo Ashford was touching her feet! What kind of horrible plan was he coming up with in his mind? Did he want to break her toes? Would the slippers make a farting sound when she walked?
At the same time, she had the childish impulse to raise one of her feet and step on his shoulder or head. To her shock, her right foot seemed to be moving of its own accord.
Luckily for them both, Apollo caught it.
"Nice try, Eclaire," he whispered.
Claire pulled her leg back aggressively. "I didn’t do anything." She chewed another shrimp. "I am only saying thank you because you have saved me the financial burden by buying these things."
Apollo raised his brows. "You can simply say thank you and leave it at that, Claire. No need to go around and around like a carousel."
Claire stuffed another shrimp into her mouth.
Apollo rose to his feet and pulled out the chair opposite hers. "Speaking of things the baby needs....I want to move in."
Claire nearly choked on her rice. "Excuse me?"
"There’s an extra bedroom that you don’t use. If you don’t want me to sleep in the bedroom, I will willingly take the couch and try to minimize my presence in your house as much as I can." He knew Claire, and how she was always on the defensive. He had to make her think she was the final decision maker. "I know you don’t want me in your space but Claire, think about your job.
You wake up early and set out for the sea. I know that sometimes, fishermen sleep on their boats for two or three days. Your grandfather has told me about that million dollar ship and your plans to build a fishing empire. There are times when you won’t be here. I don’t want our child to have to be shuffled between her home and different relatives regularly. She is not luggage. She will need stability and safety that only her parents can provide.
I don’t have a permanent job. I am willing to be a stay at home dad, so we will be here waiting when you set out and return. When the baby comes, you will need help. Diapers at 2 a.m, bottles at 4 a.m., someone to yell at when you are cranky. Your grandparents have already served their time in the newborn department with their own children. We should not force them back in at their fragile age. I am volunteering to be your partner through it all."
Claire stabbed another shrimp with fork. "Apollo, you are volunteering like a man signing up for a spa retreat. This isn’t a vacation--it’s a baby."
He leaned forward. "Exactly. Which is why you shouldn’t do it alone. You have never been a mother and I have never been a father. We have to figure out parenting together. If we live apart, our rules and expectations of our child will collide. I know you don’t trust me, but I am here. I am already invested. Look at all this stuff, I went out and bought it in person. I didn’t send my assistant, a maid or a bodyguard. You have no idea the looks people give a grown man when he is buying nipple cream."
Claire snorted, nearly spraying rice. "Oh, now I hate that I missed the chance to see those looks."
Apollo smiled slyly. "If we live together, we will shop together often. You will get the chance to see that again and you will get a free grocery carrier."
She snorted again. "I have legs."
They bickered like that, every argument laced with sarcasm and practicality. By the time Claire finished her lunch, the argument had softened into reluctant negotiation. Apollo promised not to be annoying. Claire, tired of arguing and late for her fishing appointment, sighed.
"Fine. You can move in. But if you snore or redecorate my house to resemble your fancy presidential hotel rooms, you are out."
Apollo grinned like he had just won the lottery. "Deal."