Page 79 of The Cowboy's Second Chance Bride

“I would pay good money for a picture of that or a video. I’d make it a screensaver on all my devices. It would be the gift that keeps giving.”

“Oh, shut up,” I said.

But something he’d said bothered me. I looked at Cal, then Cricket. Even though Nick was not in the room, he was quickly on the same page.

“There’s no video of that, I hope,” he said. “Smith gets ahold of that, there’s no telling what the spin will be.”

Video? Heck. How about a personal interview from the woman herself?

Cricket stood up. “I’ll call Fort and give him a heads-up.” She rushed from the room.

“Listen, doll. I’m in the car, and I think people are starting to recognize me. I’ve got a woman standing two cars away, giving me sideways glances. Oops, out comes her phone.”

“We can talk later. Thanks, Nick. Love ya.”

“Back atcha.” And he ended the call.

Cal had straightened next to me. I squeezed his hand and brought it toward me as I entwined my fingers with his. He didn’t look upset, just unsure.

“Nick and I met through Melissa, his wife. She was dying around the same time Dad was. We were on some charity boards together. She was the love of his life. Like you are mine. So when Dad and Melissa died, Nick and I were there for each other. He doesn’t have any family.” I told him about the cult. “He’s like a brother to me, and I don’t know how I could have made it without him after Dad died.”

He searched my face, then gave me one nod before leaning in to kiss me on the forehead. “Then I will forever be grateful to him. Now, about this documentary…”

I shook my head. “I am so angry right now, I can’t even process what’s just happened. Or what to think of it. Can we talk about it in a bit?”

“Of course.”

Cricket came back in with Paul following behind her. “Fort says they’ve locked down any video.”

“We can’t ask her to sign an NDA because that will tip our hand. Maybe no one finds out and approaches her.”

The baby started to fuss. Cricket tried to soothe her by rocking the car seat, but that didn’t work. She took the baby out of the carrier and handed her to me. “I’m going to warm up the milk. Hold her a second.”

I greedily took her and buried my face in her neck, giving her kisses and talking soothingly. She smelled so good, like baby power and soft fluffy balls. Her crying began to pick up in intensity.

“Grab me the binkie,” I commanded.

Paul tossed it to me, but little baby Layla got even more pissed when I offered it to her. I held her up and sniffed her butt. Nope, all good there. Her face was getting red as her wails increased.

“She’s probably hungry,” Cal said.

I looked over my shoulder for Cricket. “Want to test that theory?”

Cori had said Layla wasn’t being easy, so logically, I knew to not sweat it, but after the calf thing, well, I had some doubts. I held the crying baby out to Cal. He took her in his arms and held her just like I had. He offered her the binkie. She fussed for a few seconds longer, then took the binkie and started to calm down. She batted her pretty blue eyes at Cal.

The doorbell rang, and he tried to pass the baby back as he stood.

“Give her to Paul,” I grumbled, knowing Layla only fussed for me.

He did, and Layla continued to work the binkie with no complaints. Cal went to answer the door, and Paul stood over me with Layla.

“I should make some more calls about this Smith guy.” He handed off the baby.

She wasn’t in my arms for fifteen seconds before she popped out the pacifier and began to wail again. I let my head fall back to the couch and looked up to the ceiling.

Irony, amirite?

Fort entered the room and took his daughter, who quickly quieted. Cricket came back in and handed off the bottle.

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