"Can you grab the wipes? I think she’s about to blow," Nate said, holding the baby at arm’s length as her face scrunched up in concentration. Dana laughed, already halfway to the diaper bag, her dark hair swishing over her shoulders as she moved. "You’re such a rookie," she teased, tossing him the pack. "She’s just making a face, not launching a missile."

They’d been friends since college, but this was the first time Nate had volunteered to help Dana babysit her niece. He was tall and lanky, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, while Dana was petite but curvy, her fitted jeans and loose tank top showing off her toned arms and soft curves. Her hazel eyes sparkled as she watched him fumble with the diaper, her lips quirking into a smirk.

"Okay, expert," Nate shot back, finally securing the diaper. "But if she starts crying again, you’re on your own." Just then, the baby let out a gurgle, and Dana’s eyes widened. "Uh-oh," she said, stepping closer. "I think she’s got more in store for you." Nate froze, the faintest hint of panic crossing his face as the baby’s expression shifted again.