He turned to look at her. “You think?”
“I do.”
Something clunked loudly on the floor, and they both looked up.
Zachary was clinging to the coffee table, slapping his palms against a puddle of eggnog while the glass rolled away.
“Oh, no,” Amber groaned, quickly rising to her feet.
Otis immediately seized on the opportunity, jumping up to lap at the spilled eggnog.
“Otis, no,” Cole commanded, following Amber. “This walking thing is going to take some getting used to.”
The dog looked disappointed, but obediently went back to lie down.
Zachary stuffed his fingers into his mouth, breaking into a grin at the taste.
Amber reached for him, pulling the fingers free. “No rum for you, young man.”
Cole gazed around. “You want me to take care of the baby or the mess?”
She felt a surge of gratitude for his offer. “Do you think you could give him a quick bath?”
“I’m on it.” He took Zachary carefully into his arms, facing the messy parts away from his shirt and pants as he carried him down the hall. Otis followed along behind.
Sighing in resignation, Amber went to the kitchen storage room for paper towels and the mini steam cleaner.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Cole’s shirt was soaked through. But Zachary was clean and happy, tossing little plastic ducks around the tub. The kid had an arm, so some of the ducks flew across the purple bathroom. Cole wasn’t about to leave Zachary’s side, so they were running out of ducks.
“About done there, partner?” Cole asked, reaching forward to lift him.
Zachary grinned and kicked happily, sending a few final splashes toward Cole, one of them hitting him in the face and dampening his hair. Cole quickly wrapped Zachary’s wiggly, wet body in a mauve towel, rubbing him dry before settling him on one hip. Then he leaned down to unplug the tub and used his free hand to gather up the errant ducks.
They made their way into the living room to find Amber on her hands and knees. The rumble and hiss of a steam-cleaning machine obscured the Christmas music. Her brow was sweaty, and her blouse was mussed as she pushed the appliance back and forth on the carpet.
She glanced up to see them. Then she rocked back, hitting the machine’s off switch and swiping a hand across her forehead.
“I think I got it clean,” she said.
Cole peeled his wet shirt away from his rib cage. “I’m not sure we’ve quite got the hang of this billionaire lifestyle.”
She grinned. “He looks happy.”
“He’s happy. I’m soaking wet.”
She came to her feet, dusting off her knees. “When it comes to babies, trust me, bathwater is the least of your problems.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You want to take on diaper and pajama duty? Or do you want to put away the steamer?”