“After you fed him, did he burp?”

“Eww, no.”

“Well, he needs too.” She stood and I gasped as I got a look at her legs in the short denim skirt she was wearing. Damn, she looks good. I swallowed as she bent to put her things on her seat and began to walk toward me, her right thigh peeking at me every time she stepped forward. “Give him to me. Ashley!”

I mentally kicked myself for I had been gaping at her body stupidly while she stood in front of me waiting impatiently for me to hand my nephew over. When I did so, my movements were so abrupt that I jolted little Max again. He didn’t like it this time anymore than he had when I’d done it the first time. He bellowed even louder if that was possible.

Spencer soon had him over her shoulder, patting his back and shushing him as she began to pace up and down the short aisle. After a minute of that, Max’s volume had lowered considerably and Spencer now stood in front of me swaying from side to side but keeping up her rhythmic patting. With each of side-to-side movements she made, the slit on the side of her skirt revealed to me what I had once claimed as mine. I turned away to subtlety check my lip for slop. Jeez, Ash, you’d think you were the one who needed a bib.

Suddenly, Max let out a belch loud enough to make any man proud.

“Oh, that’s just nasty,” I said, my face scrunched up in distaste.

Spencer shot me what had to be her fourth look of disapproval in less than five minutes before turning back to the baby. “No, that’s not nasty. That was a good one, huh? You’re such a big boy. Didn’t that feel good?”

As she cooed at the baby, I tried to squelch the jealousy I felt welling up within me. But to be honest, I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly I was jealous of. I mean, how could I begrudge Spencer for finally shutting up a crying kid and I certainly didn’t want Spencer congratulating me on my belching ability. Nonetheless, there was no denying what that pit in my stomach was.