Undeniably Yours by Becky Wade Page A

They were sitting on either side of Jayden at the table in the big house kitchen while he ate.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI have a new goal in life.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œTo hire child care for Jayden.”
    He chuckled. “As fun as this has been and all, I think that might be wise.”
    â€œBest money I’ll ever spend.”
    Jayden started pitching quesadilla pieces over the side of his chair.
    â€œI think he’s done already,” Meg said with a trace of despair. She’d only been sitting down for what felt like five minutes and hadn’t had a chance to drink even half of her bottled water.
    â€œDon’t see how that’s possible,” Bo answered.
    Jayden shoved away his plate and tried to heft himself out of his high chair. Then suddenly he stilled.
    â€œOh good. Maybe he’s changed his mind.”
    Jayden’s gaze fixed on the middle of nowhere. He gave a muffled grunt. His face squeezed with strain.
    â€œOh, no you don’t,” Bo threatened.
    Meg started to laugh. A poopy diaper. The cherry on top of the sundae of challenge and exhaustion that was the job of baby-sitting Jayden Richardson. And she’d imagined running Cole Oil to be difficult! She didn’t know how in the world Amber did this work—alone—on a daily basis. Over the past few hours her respect and awe for the woman had skyrocketed. Forget Superman and Batman. Single mothers were the real superheroes. If she hadn’t already pledged her support to Amber, this gig watching Jayden would have motivated her to do so ten times over.
    Jayden finished doing his business and tried to hoist himself out of the chair again.
    â€œI guess,” Meg said, “a dirty diaper was inevitable.”
    â€œActually, it’s a bullet I’d been hoping to dodge.”
    â€œAny interest in changing him?”
    â€œNone.”
    â€œMe neither.”
    Bo tilted his head. “Want to flip a coin?”
    â€œI’d rather you just do it.” She tested a cajoling smile on him.
    â€œYou’re not going to like my terms.”
    â€œLay ’em on me.”
    â€œIf I change him, then you have to go horseback riding with me.”
    He was right; she didn’t like his terms. Toddler poop. Or horse phobia. Choices, choices. Toddler poop offered torture of much shorter duration. Maybe she’d go with that. . . . But then the smell hit her. Rank beyond belief. “I’ll take you up on your offer,” Meg said.
    â€œYou’ll come out and ride.”
    â€œYes.” She’d brought Jayden’s diaper bag with them when they’d come to the big house and now fished out the wipes and a diaper and handed them over. Bo tucked them in the waistband of his jeans. With a pained expression, he extracted Jayden from the high chair.
    Meg fought to hide her grin. Bo’s expression alone was almost worth the price of the horseback riding.
    Bo held Jayden extended out in front of him, his big hands under Jayden’s little arm pits. He paused in the doorway of the kitchen, the toddler dangling. “Should I just lay him down on the floor of the bathroom and change him there?”
    â€œI guess.”
    They left and were gone for what seemed like an unusually long time. Meg finished her water and straightened the kitchen.
    When they returned, Jayden was riding on the palm of Bo’s hand and smiling widely.
    â€œHow’d it go?” Meg asked.
    â€œI managed to come through Iraq and Afghanistan okay, but I’m going to need therapy after that.”
    â€œI’ll foot the bill.”
    â€œI’m not sure if I got the diaper on forwards or backwards.”
    â€œHopefully it’ll work either way.”
    â€œSince you don’t have a hazmat bin, I tied the bag from the bathroom trash can around the diaper and walked it to the outside trash.”
    â€œVery wise. Thank you.”
    â€œThen I washed my hands