Page 117 of Fangirl Down

“Kids eat, too, last time I checked,” said his girlfriend.

Suddenly, he was very fixated on what Josephine was saying. “Do you like kids?”

“Of course, I like kids.”

“Do you want one?” he half shouted.

“Oh, I wish they had popcorn on this menu,” Tallulah said wistfully, tipping her glass to her lips. “But I guess wine will have to do.”

“Maybe,” Josephine answered, finally. “Not yet. But maybe someday.”

“I don’t know a damn thing about kids,” he warned her.

Josephine opened her mouth, closed it. “People usually don’t know, until they have one. Not really.” She very clearly kicked her friend under the table. “Right, Tallulah?”

The aspiring marine biologist choked on her wine, but recovered fast. “She’s right. You have tohaveone to find out if you actuallywantone. It’s pretty fucked.Unlessyour mother had one of your siblings late in life, like mine did, and you helped raise them.” She rubbed her hands together. “That’s how I know I want ’em. Bring me that child!”

Wells had the very distinct urge to witness Josephine around a young kid and he had no idea where it was coming from. “I’ll ask them if they’re hungry.”

Josephine slumped, as if relieved to be done with his line of questioning. And hewasdone with it. For now. He’d never been remotely serious about a woman, the way he was with Josephine. It stood to reason that he should know her vision for the future. Obviously, she wanted to turn the Golden Tee into a premier destination in Palm Beach for golf, but beyond that... what did she want? A house? Did she want a split-level or more of a ranch style?

Unbelievable. He knewnothing.

When Wells reached Burgess, he briefly clapped a hand down on the man’s gargantuan shoulder. “Hey, man. You made it.”

Burgess turned halfway. Dipped his chin. “That’s right. You better not suck tomorrow.”

“Dad!” The little girl punched her father in the leg. “Normal people say hi?”

The hockey player grunted. “This is Lissa. She’s eleven.”

“Hi, Lissa who is eleven.” Wells stuck his hand out for a shake. To his surprise, she didn’t hesitate to take his hand and squeeze it firmly. “Do you eat? Food?”

“No, she eats tree bark,” Burgess deadpanned. “Of course, she eats food.”

“Look, I’ve had anafternoon. All right? I’m lucky to be alive right now.” Wells jerked his thumb at the restaurant, his ridiculous heart skipping when Josephine waved. “We’re having dinner over there. Me, Josephine, and her friend Tallulah. You’re welcome to join. They’ve got a lot of things that are braised on the menu. That’s all the information I have to report.”

“Do they have chicken fingers?” asked Lissa.

Shit, that sounded good. “I don’t know. But if they do, I’m fucking ordering them.”

Burgess’s left eye twitched. “Watch the language, Whitaker.”

Lissa doubled over giggling.

Wells stared in stunned silence.

Holy shit. He’d made a childlaugh.

Wells turned and made eye contact with Josephine, pointing at Lissa.

She’s laughing at me, he mouthed.

Josephine sent him a double thumbs-up.

“We’ll check in and come join you,” Burgess said, already walking toward the attendant who was waving him over from behind the check-in desk. “Come on, Lissa.”

Wells went back to the restaurant and sat down in his chair, feeling more than a little smug. “Pretty sure I was born to be a father.”

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