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Page 44 of The Perfect Deception

He was talk­ing to her. “Wait, what?”

“Earth to Dina. I asked if you al­ways fol­low the rules.”

“Oh, um, yeah, usu­ally.”

“Then why did you shake your head no?”

Crap. “I don’t know.”

He took a step to­ward her, put his arm around her shoul­der, and ush­ered her into the liv­ing room. “Okay, it’s ob­vi­ous you’re get­ting a lit­tle over­whelmed by the baby. Let’s just sit down and wait a lit­tle. We can al­ways wake her if we need to, but it’s damn hard toun­wakeher.”

She let him pull her to­ward the sofa and she sank into it, run­ning her hand ab­sently over the cloth up­hol­stery. “Maybe I should just call Tracy and ask,” Dina said.

“And make her think we have no idea what we’re do­ing?”

Some­thing in his face made her think he might not be jok­ing. “Don’t you know what you’re do­ing?”

“Not a clue,” he said. “But how hard can this be?”

“Wait a minute,” she said, ris­ing and putting her hands on her hips. “I thought you said you were a baby ex­pert!”

“I might have ex­ag­ger­ated a lit­tle.”

The baby’s cries pre­vented her from re­spond­ing, which was prob­a­bly good for Adam.

He’d lied to her.

She rushed into the laven­der-painted nurs­ery and reached for Macken­zie, whose face was scrunched up like a with­ered ap­ple.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she crooned as she pulled her against her chest.

“What can I do?” Adam asked, stand­ing in the door­way.

He could stop mak­ing things up, for one.

She nod­ded her head to­ward the sup­plies. “Can you get out a fresh di­a­per and wipes?”

Adam rushed to get what she’d asked for and hov­ered by the ta­ble, hold­ing the items in the air like they’d fly away if he let go—or bite him.

“Wait,” he said. “Are you sure we should change her? It doesn’t say that on the list.”

She laughed at the sud­den re­ver­sal of roles. “Well, I’m pretty sure that if they were able to pre­dict ex­actly when she’d need a di­a­per change, she’d be potty trained al­ready, so for this one thing, I’m not so wor­ried about the list.”

He looked prop­erly chas­tised and she changed her mind about his in­ten­tions. Maybe he hadn’t lied per se. Maybe he’d just ex­ag­ger­ated. A lot. The ques­tion was why, which she’d ex­am­ine af­ter she changed Macken­zie’s di­a­per.

Dina fig­ured out the snaps on the one­sie, cleaned her up, and put on a fresh di­a­per. And still she cried.

“Here, can you hold her? The list said to give her a bot­tle.”

Adam’s mouth opened and shut. “How about I make the bot­tle and you hold her?”

“It’s frozen breast milk.”

“Come here, Macken­zie. Let Un­cle Adam hold you.”

With a laugh, Dina went in search of the milk. Three min­utes later, she ap­proached the nurs­ery and stopped in the door­way. There was singing and coo­ing and nose-to-nose touch­ing and all of it was com­ing from Adam. She dou­ble and triple checked, just to make sure there wasn’t some TV or ra­dio play­ing she hadn’t no­ticed be­fore.

There wasn’t.




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