Page 34 of Baby for my Dad's Best Friend

“Maybe, but it’s not that big of a stretch.”

She looked at me so intently that I thought she was about to call me out. Instead, she shrugged and said, “So we send Joe, too. But she might not take kindly to feeling like we’re sending a babysitter with her.”

“It’s a babysitter or–” I swallowed the ever-present threat to drop Blake as a client. That was too far. Maureen would know. “–or I’d rather she reconsider,” I managed to temper my response.

The conversation with Joe that followed took up part of my afternoon, which meant I was fifteen minutes late meeting Jack.

“Sorry,” I said, sliding onto the barstool beside him. “Work shit.”

Jack nodded, unconcerned. “I had beer and the game to entertain me.” His attention was still fixated on the screen. I waved down the bartender and got myself a drink. I needed one just now. I’d told Joe he was going to this charity ball, which was apparently in New York, but I hadn’t told Layla yet. I didn’t think it would go over well. But I didn’t care. I was low level pissed that she had asked Maureen for permission when she knewmyanswer would have been hell no.

I tried to push that to the back burner, but when Jack finally tore his attention away from the game, he caught the scowl on my face. “Bad day at the office?”

“No. We just have an asshole client.” I stared at my beer as an idea occurred to me. A very bad idea. An idea that didn’t stand a chance of working. “And he has his eye on your daughter,” I said anyway.

Now I had Jack’s full attention. He was like the suburban version of a comic book hero. Mild mannered by day, but if you fucked with his family, he could go full vigilante. As I watched, his eyebrows snapped down. His jaw squared. His lips formed a dangerous line. “Come again?”

I was well aware I’d fucked up, but hell. I’d gone too far to turn back now. I quickly outlined the situation with Blake Morten–careful not to give Jack any identifying details. “I don’t trust the jackass, so I’m sending another person from the team with her.”

Jack’s face hadn’t relaxed a millimeter the whole time I was talking. And now that I was done, it was still frozen in that pissed off mask. “You say it’s not necessary for her to go on this trip? Like this isn’t necessarily part of the job?”

Shit. I’d fucked up so bad. “Look, Jack. I’m sending someone with her. Hell,I’llgo with her if it’ll make you feel better, but Joe is more than capable of–”

“It would make me feel better if you went instead,” Jack interrupted.

I swallowed uneasily, well aware I’d just made things worse. When this all came out–and it would all come out–Jack was going to remember that he’d sent me to New York City to protecthis daughter, when all along, I was the asshole he should have been worried about. But I’d painted myself into this corner, and when I did something, I did it well. There was no way out. “Then I’ll go, Jack.” I did my best to make my voice sound relaxed rather than placating. “No problem.”

Finally, some of the tension eased out of his jaw. He picked up his beer again and took a long drink. When he set it back down, he looked like my old buddy Jack again. “Not like you have anything better to do, right?” he asked, half-joking, half-prying.

“Nah, nothing better,” I agreed.

“You don’t sound too worried about it.”

“I got divorced for a reason, Jack.” I stretched my arms over my head and did my best to put off the impression of what I had been just a few months before–happily single, enjoying my bachelorhood. I even glanced around, in case Jack was wondering why I hadn’t automatically scoped out the women in the bar.

“I know. I guess I just figured you’d remarry eventually.”

He said it in an offhand way that took me aback. “Why’s that?” I asked, genuinely curious. I’d never really seen myself as the marrying type. Shara had confirmed it. Only since Layla upended everything I thought I knew about myself had I even considered whether I’d get married again.

And the answer was no, not unless it was to a woman who made me feel the way she did. And when I really let my guard slip, the answer was no, not unless it was to Layla.

Had Jack seen something in me I didn’t? Again?

“Because you’re dead loyal.”

I snorted. “Yeah, it wasn’t cheating that drove Shara away.”

“I’m serious. Look how long we’ve been friends. Look how long people stay with your company.” Jack said it like it was obvious. Like I must have known because everyone else did. “You stick with people. It makes them want to stick, too.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m an old fart for thinking so, but that seems like a good foundation for a marriage.”

“If you find the right one.”

He grimaced. I think Jack sometimes felt guilty, like he’d pushed me to marry Shara. Which was fucking stupid because he knew I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to. “Yeah, if you find the right one.” He looked over at me, his eyes the exact same color as Layla’s. “You’re just going to let that go?”

“Let what go?”

“I called myself an old fart and you didn’t say shit.”

“You’re old as fuck,” I doubled down. “Methuselah could learn a thing.”

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