Page 29 of Piece Of Me

This was entirely too serious for Taz, but he kept his tone light. “I won’t.”

“And as for her phone number you can ask for it yourself. She’s here with Benton and Nora.”

“She is?” He asked, opening the truck door. “You couldn’t have just told me that in the first place?”

“And spoil our heart to heart?”

“Are we good?” he asked over his shoulder.

“We are, but…”

He raised an eyebrow at that.

“I think it’s a bad idea. You and Scarlett have more in common than you know.”

“We’ve lived. We have shit. Who doesn’t?”

Millie looked conflicted, but then her face softened. “You’re right. I’m probably reading too much into things. Let’s blame the hormones.”

Taz got the girls out of the truck, a minor battle considering they were as wriggly as a pack of piglets. He followed Millie and they made their way toward the park. The sun was still high, the air fresh, and the twins skipped along at his side, singing some song about a panda and a skunk.

He pondered Millie’s words. Were he and Scarlett a bad idea? Maybe. Probably. He’d never been good at the relationship thing, and for good reason. His family was the shit show that never stopped giving. But the thing about bad ideas was that sometimes they surprised a guy. They grew into something else. Something good.

Taz Pullman thought that Scarlett was, if anything, the type to surprise and he was looking forward to where they were headed. But if Taz was thinking straight, he’d have realized a thing or two. Mainly, the fact that he was looking forward at all was one hell of a surprise.

CHAPTER 9

Scarlett was preoccupied. No doubt about it.

She’d forgotten to pack extra diapers in Hank’s bag, which meant she was crossing every finger she owned, hoping he didn’t go on a poop spree. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d blown through a bag of diapers, so he was definitely due. She’d remembered the sunscreen but not sunglasses, and to make matters worse was wearing pink fuzzy slippers, not the cute white sandals she’d meant to, the ones that looked great with the plain white tank top and jean cut offs she currently sported.

She’d been hoping to find a vendor selling flip flops, but the closest she’d come had been moccasins, which she would have gladly bought, but there’d been none in her size. She was destined to spend the day traipsing through the park in cotton candy pink slippers.

“I should have just worn my pajamas again,” she muttered to herself, as she adjusted the top of the stroller to keep Hank shaded.

“Auntie, Scar, watch me!” Nora’s excited voice drew her attention, and she couldn’t help but smile as she watched her niece get busy in the bouncy castle. Benton had gone off in search of cold refreshments, and she was in charge.

“You finally had him, did ya?” The accent was British, one she recognized, and with a smile the size of Montana she turned, shading her eyes for a better look. A man stood a few inches from her, dressed in a plain black T-shirt, well-worn jeans the kind of boots meant for kicking, not dancing. Tall and built like a linebacker, he was ruggedly handsome with longer hair than was fashionable, a dazzling smile, and enough ink on his muscular arms to make any tattoo artist drool.

“Ollie,” she said with a laugh, accepting his hug and squeezing him tightly. “I knew Cal was picking you guys up from the airport, but I thought I’d see you at the ranch, not here.”

“The rest of the crew went to grab some beers, but I thought I’d come along with Cal.” He winked. “I’m glad I did.”

“Where is he?” She looked past the giant but didn’t spy her brother.

“He ran into Millie and a friend of hers, but they should be along any minute.” He glanced down at her feet. “This a new fashion statement?”

“Yes,” she replied dryly. “You’ll only find it in Big Bend.”

He chuckled. “Good to know.” Ollie stepped back and gave her an exaggerated once-over. “Being a mother looks good on you.”

She actually blushed, pleased at the compliment. Ollie peered into the stroller. “Handsome little guy. What’s his name?”

“Hank.”

“I like it.”

“I grew up listening to Hank Williams. He was my mom’s favorite and,” she followed Ollie’s gaze, her heart blooming at the sight of her boy. “When I first saw him, the name fit perfectly.”

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