She took her gently, her brows furrowed as the baby found her natural place in her arms. “Hey, you,” Poppy murmured, tracing her features.
Poppy was still in the bed several hours later, but she was sitting up, playing some sort of game with Diana.
She looked back at him, flushing slightly. “Counting her fingers and toes. Don’t worry. She still has 12 of each.”