“During our chat I learned she likes baby talk,” she told him.

Fucking hell.

This made him grin and he kept doing it even when he was backing them out of the garage.

Bad news, they were on their way and it was always a crapshoot with his dad how things would go.

Good news, Hattie seemed a lot calmer than when he walked into the house.

“You good?” he asked to confirm.

“Absolutely not. I’m totally freaking out,” she answered.

He glanced at her and saw none of that.

“You seem good,” he noted.

“I’m faking it.”

Back came his grin.

“Honey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“It is. Most importantly, it’s going to happen, and that means eventually it’ll be over, we’ll be home, and it’ll be behind us.”

“Smart advice. I will now commence visualizing the ride home.” She then put her hands up at her sides, tip of her thumb to tip of her middle finger, and she began chanting, “Om.”

Now he wasn’t grinning.

He was laughing.

Fuck, she was something.

Yeah.

Cute girls totally did it for him.

She stopped chanting, dropped her hands and asked, “How was your day?”

“I had duty at the monitors,” he shared. “We take turns having to sit there and stare at them. I got three days of that and then I’m back out from behind my workstation. Which I already know will be the best day of the week.”

“Man of action,” she noted.

“Definitely not a man of sitting on my ass all day,” he replied.

She didn’t say anything, and at a glance, he saw her lips tipped up, looking amused, staring out the windshield.

It was a good segue, so he took it.

“Sometimes, depending on what jobs we’re on, I got night duty doing that,” he told her.

“All right,” she said.

“That’s not a problem?” he asked.

“Honey, I work nine to two in the morning. Is that a problem?” she asked back.

“No.”

“I can hardly be ticked at you that you have to work nights when I work nights.”

Right.

“Yeah,” he said through his chuckles. When he stopped chuckling, he asked, “Did you get to your studio today?”