Page 12 of Sweet Thing

“Did you just come home from traveling the world with a … kid?”

Rosie nudged Hatch. “Not hers, dickhead. And hello? Great to see you, too.”

“Damn, sorry. I just saw the baby and—” He pulled Rosie into his arms. “Hey, Ro, it’s so good to see you.”

I pretended not to notice how Rosie closed her eyes and inhaled in Hatch’s embrace.

I called out, “You can hug me later, H.”

Rosie pulled away first, which was good for her mental health, though who knew if it made a difference. Crushes were a blight, for sure.

Summer laughed, a musical tinkle. “Did you really think your sister hid a baby from you all year?”

Hatch’s smiling expression shifted to stormy at Summer’s words. For some reason, he didn’t like her, and he was terrible at hiding it.

Ignoring Summer, he addressed me. “You want to fill me in?”

“NyQuil’s inbigtrouble.” Dash had returned, a beer in his hand, ready for the gossip. “Some chick waltzed in, handed over the kid, and waltzed out again. He chased after her and now, no sign of him. Real soap opera stuff.”

My brother whistled. “That’s wild.”

“Right?” Dash jerked his chin toward the bar’s entrance. “Looks like he decided not to do a runner after all.”

The crowd parted as Lars returned, resolute focus on his face, grim determination in his tread. My father walked behind him, the mental and emotional support this surprise dad needed. Rosie stepped aside to let Lars get closer.

He looked down.

I looked up.

Our eyes locked and the intensity in his gaze shivered through me. Not that it was for me. It was for the baby. The situation. Maybe even the woman who had just left.

“Is she okay?” he asked.

My heart went out to him, forced to be so vulnerable in front of all these people. I wanted to protect him and the best way to do that was to take this somewhere private.

I stood, still holding the child, who seemed to be getting heavier with each passing second. “She’s fine. Let’s find somewhere to talk, okay?”

Look at me taking charge!Rosie narrowed her eyes at me. I fixed on a smile. “Ro, could you pack that bag up for Lars?”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” She restuffed the baby paraphenalia haphazardly and handed the diaper bag to a stunned Lars.

I caught my dad’s eye, who was watching me with a curious amusement. “Dad, do you think we could use the back office?”

No slouch, he grabbed the bag from Lars, curled a hand around his arm, and said, “Let’s go.”

A minute later we were in the back office of the Empty Net. My dad took the baby from me and started cooing away while Lars watched. He hadn’t said a word since asking if she was okay and now, he was standing at the door, hands crossed defensively against that superhero chest, probably wondering how his world could have blown up in such spectacular style.

“Did you catch up with her?”

He turned to me, as if surprised I’d spoken. “Vicki? Yeah. She’s out.”

“Oh. Wow.”

My dad looked up from making raspberry sounds. “She told her husband the kid was his. He found out she was not. And now we’re here.”

“That’s messed up.”

“Fuck yeah, it is.” Lars rubbed his mouth. Now probably wasn’t the time to get puritanical about the swearing. “What’s my play here?”

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