Page 10 of A Date with Fate

“Yes please. I didn’t get much sleep last night with baby Hayden being so upset.” She bit her lip. “I get really worried when I hear him cry. That’s part of the reason I was so excited to come with you.”

I sat up in bed. Was that really just last night? It seemed like days ago. “Oh.” I wasn’t sure where to go with this, but something from that night flitted across my brain. Worried, she had said. Not upset. Kind of like how she’d looked at the baby when I was handling him.

“You were worried? I think it’s pretty normal for babies to cry quite a lot. At least in my experience.”

Taylor looked uncomfortable, rubbing a hand up and down her forearm. “I’m not good with babies, so knowing they are upset and not knowing what to do…it’s just hard.”

“Taylor.” I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. She was completely vulnerable now, pretty face open as she watched me. “You did everything right that night, even if you didn’t hold him.”

As if my confronting her was more than she was prepared to deal with, I saw that beautiful mask carefully settle back over her features. A bright, shining, fake smile curled her mouth. “Thanks, Scott. Can we get some food? My stomach is growling like crazy, and I’m not sure I want any of these people thinking I’m a bear or something.”

I studied her for a long moment then stood up. “We can’t let that happen.” I stood over her, taking in every inch of her face from my taller vantage point, and then leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Plus, around here, it wouldn’t be a bear. It’d be a cougar.”

Taylor burst out laughing, swatting my shoulder as I moved past her out the door and towards the truck.

“Shall we, Miss Haley?”

“Why yes, Mr. Spears. We shall.”

***

“You’re clearly cheating,” I said, jabbing a finger into Taylor's arm as she plunked down on the barstool next to mine.

She laughed, head tilted back, pretty smile wide and relaxed. “You’re a sore loser, Scotty.”

“Am not.”

Taylor quirked a brow over the lip of her beer. “Am too.”

I snapped my mouth shut, clenching my jaw as I let her win this argument. It was the least I could do, because as much as I wanted to deny it, it did hurt a little that she was putting the hurt on me so severely.

“Why are you so good at darts again?”

“College roommate. Her parents owned a bar, and it was the only thing we had in common.” Taylor dropped her drink back to the sticky bar top. “I played a lot of darts that year.”

“Well, you haven’t lost your touch,” I grumbled, standing and moving to the line.

“You know, we should make this a contest.”

I eyed the hanging dartboard closely, tucking my tongue between my teeth. “It’s already a contest, you know.”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “More than that.” She scooted to the edge of her seat, her balance a little off from the drinks she’d had. “Whoever wins the next game gets the bed.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And”—she leaned in conspiratorially—“I’ll even let you pick the game.”

My smile was instantaneous. “Oh yeah? You’re that sure you’ll win? Because I felt that couch, Tay. I don’t think you’ll love it.”

She brushed her nails off on her shirt. “I won’t be sleeping there, so I’m not worried.”

I chuckled, moving back to sit beside her. I set the darts down on the bar and leaned in. “Are you ready, then?”

Taylor eyed me curiously. “What are you doing?’’

“Picking my game.”

“Yes.” Taylor pointed over my shoulder. “A dart game.”

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