Page 7 of Rock the Cradle of Love
“Um, bye,” says Noah.
“’Those people’?” Taylor mutters. “We’re professional hockey players. What’s she trying to imply?”
Noah’s gaze shifts to the woman and the teen through the window and back to Taylor. “You think she thought we were a couple?”
“Yeah. I do.” Taylor huffs. As if he’s offended by her insult.
Noah’s never been mistaken for gay, but then why would he be? But he supposes they do appear rather domestic. The thought of being in a relationship with Taylor doesn’t bother him though. Is that what’s irritated Taylor—he doesn’t want to be mistaken as homosexual? He’s never seemed homophobic, but who knows?
“Right this way, gentlemen.” The hostess gathers a couple of menus and two bundles of silverware and takes off. He and Taylor follow her through a maze of tables flanked by blue banquettes. The place isn’t that full, which is nice, but there’s the standard buzz of conversations, and sounds from the open kitchen carry into the dining area.
If he and Taylor get lucky, they won’t be recognized, but they’re awful close to the arena. And Taylor’s face was plastered on a billboard just up the highway for a while. He’s kind of surprised that the girl didn’t realize who Taylor was.
They’re settled at a table for four. Emma’s in her carrier in the chair next to Noah, and Taylor’s seated across from him. The server brings them water and they order immediately.
“What are you going to do with Emma next week?” asks Taylor and Noah freezes.
He should know what Taylor’s talking about, but he doesn’t. He’s been a bit busy for the last few days. “What? When?” He’s planning on keeping Emma. Noah thought they’d established that.
“Shit, relax, man,” says Taylor. “End-of-season meetings, locker cleanouts, and exit interviews? You know, like we do every year?” Taylor’s dark eyebrow arches over his equally dark eye.
“Shyeah,” Noah says on a breath, grinning in realization. “Right.” He does know all of that. This past week of caring for Emma and getting little rest seems to have stunted his higher brain function. One long stint of sleep does not make up for three days of lost and broken sleep, but things are coming back to him. Noah nods. He’d better check his email and his voicemail.
A woman—all teased Texas hair and large breasts—stops behind Emma’s chair and says, “What a precious little thing.” She smiles and eyes first Taylor and then Noah. To Noah she says, “You’re the daddy?”
“Um, yeah.” His eyes get stuck on her breasts. He can’t help it. She’s got them on full display. He looks quickly at Taylor, who waggles his brows. But all that jiggly pale flesh does nothing for him.
“Good of you to give her momma a break.”
He meets her gaze, resolutely not looking at her chest. “No, I—” He turns to glare at Taylor who’s just kicked him in the shin.
“He’s a really good daddy,” says Taylor with a nod. “Thanks.”
She smiles a little less brightly than before, but takes the hint.
“Why’d you kick me?”
“She was fishing for information.”
Noah glances at her retreating figure and then says, “Oh…right.” Yeah. Now he sees. Maybe. It takes him a moment sometimes. Sexual connotation is not his strong suit. Eight years surrounded by hormone-driven men have provided him an education that his own lack of instincts didn’t give him, but there’s still a lag when he has to process things sex-related. It’s just not second nature. Sometimes it’s a pain in the ass.
“I saw you checking out her tits. Are you a breast man?” Taylor leans forward and glances around. “Not gonna pop a boner right here in the restaurant, are you?”
“What? No.” Noah’s so surprised. “No. And I wasn’t checking out her…tits.” God, he hates that word. “It’s just that they wereright there. Hard to miss.”
“Okay. Sorry,” says Taylor, looking half amused, half contrite. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. There’s Jules, right? And I should know better.”
Noah can’t deny that Julia’s been a helpful buffer against having to date or pickup in bars, but. “Jules and I are friends. We’ve only ever been friends. Best friends, but just friends. And why should you know better?”
“Well, I’m bi, so…” He shrugs.
Oh.
“Oh, okay.” Noah takes a sip of coffee to hide his surprise. He’s only ever seen Taylor interact with women, so he’d never have guessed Taylor likes men too. Locker room culture can be super no-homo, so he gets the need for circumspection. Although, to be honest, he’s never heard anything homophobic from their teammates. Taylor’s earlier reaction makes sense now, though. Hewasinsulted. Not because that woman assumed they were a couple, but because she probably found the notion distasteful.
“So Emma’s definitely not yours?”
Noah shakes his head. “No, some douche at school.”
