Page 28

I grinned at her, feeling a touch breathless. “Still with the water.” I’d already given her a twenty to keep me hydrated, but that was chicken feed for a server of her caliber, so I fished out another.

She shook her head as she passed the water glass over. “Nope. After the way you sorted out that slimeball, I can happily say your money is no good here.”

Rowan appeared to have recovered from a glass of bubbly to the face just fine. Right now, he was surrounded by an entourage more to his taste. Adoring women, braying men.

“Is it weird that I stayed?” I asked Candi.

“No. Though most women would be holed up in the bathroom sobbing instead of getting down solo on the dance floor—hello, what do we have here?”

I turned to where her avid gaze was drawn, then blinked to focus my own. But it didn’t make a difference because the strangest image was still in my sightline.

Lars Nyquist in the club.

And he was heading this way.

As if that wasn’t shocking enough, something else snagged my attention. In his hand, at knee level, he carried a large object. I could barely make it out, but then the crowd parted, and I understood.

The car seat—and it was occupied.

Lars had brought Mabel to a nightclub!

I slid a look to Candi, who had to have seen it all. Her mouth had fallen open. I was happy to provide this new experience for her.

He stopped a foot away. His eyes searched my face, followed by a quick glance over my body. To confirm I wasn’t hurt? Or something else?

He came here for me.

“You okay?”

“Of course I am.”

“You didn’t look okay in those photos.”

Lars had tracked me down through Rowan MacFarlane’s social media?

Rather than respond to that, I moved my attention south. “You brought Mabel.”

“Couldn’t leave her on her own. At least not yet.” He grinned and my heart fluttered dangerously. “Besides, she should see what hockey players do in their spare time.”

Mabel’s eyes were dancing, the loud music and vibrant lighting keeping her interest.

“I think she likes it.” I swiped at a tear.

“Hey now.” He placed Mabel down on the floor between us, protecting her from the crowd. Protecting me. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t believe you’re here.” I added, “With Mabel,” so it was clear that was the shocking part of it all, though it wasn’t. I was having a miserable time, and Lars had come to fetch me home.

Somehow this man knew I needed him.

I turned to Candi and gave her my last twenty dollars. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

“Sure, girl.” She leaned in and whispered, “Is this your guy?”

“My boss.” Also my dad’s teammate, closest friend, and the guy I’m falling hopelessly in love with. “I’m Mabel’s nanny.”

Candi nodded slowly. “Right. Your boss. With the baby. At the club.”

She was right. None of this made much sense.

“You ready?” Lars fixed me with another trademark intense stare, to which I could only nod. We threaded our way through the crowd and when we reached the exit, Lars handed a ticket to the valet.

“You want to tell me what happened?”

“Just mismatched expectations.”

He faced me, his eyes fiery suns. “Meaning?”

“I thought it was a date, and he obviously didn’t. He just wanted to use me to piss you off.”

Lars didn’t look surprised, which felt even worse. “He hurt you.”

“Just my pride. I can patch that up no problem.”

He stared so hard I had to look away in embarrassment. Here I was, being rescued from a fake/revenge date by the guy I was falling for and who had told me it would never happen, in this lifetime or the next.

The valet pulled the car around and I stood by helplessly while Lars affixed the car seat in place, expertly working the loops of the seat belt and securing it. Only two weeks ago he barely knew what a car seat was; now he was an adept handler of babies and distressed women alike.

He closed the back seat door and opened the passenger one. “Get in.”

His hot palm on my elbow filled me with shame. Apparently I was now the kind of woman who needed to be rescued. First, Greece. Now Lars had uprooted his baby daughter from her crib to give me a ride. The burning humiliation was morphing into something closer to anger.

“I didn’t ask you to come get me.”

“No, you didn’t. We should talk about that. Watch Mabel for me.”

He closed the door and disappeared back inside the club. The valet glared at me, as if I was responsible for leaving the car in the no-load zone. A minute later, Lars was back.

Flexing his fist.

Had he—no, he couldn’t have.

He clambered into the driver’s seat and stared straight ahead.

“Did you—hit someone?” The only someone worth hitting here was Rowan and I couldn’t condone that. Yet, a thrill skittered through my veins all the same. Was I suddenly one of those drama-llama Real Housewives types who enjoyed men fighting over her?

Calm down. No one is fighting over you.

Lars remained silent as he started the car and pulled out into traffic.

“Lars, tell me. Did you hit someone?”

“Hush now, the baby.”

The baby? Now he was worried about the baby? I took a quick glance, and sure enough Mabel was sleeping, a damn conspiracy with this man to keep me from shouting at him.

I lowered my voice to a furious whisper. “Did. You. Hit. Someone?”

“Someone implies a human being. Not sure MacFarlane deserves that label.”

My gaze dropped to his right hand, gripping the steering wheel. The knuckles were tinged red.

“Why would you do that?”

“You know why.”

“Seriously, I don’t.” I thought on it for a second. “Because you don’t get along with him?”

“Doesn’t help.”

But that wasn’t it—or only it. “I don’t understand you at all.”

“Women are from Venus, right?”

“Don’t know what that means.”

He sighed. “It means men and women are from different planets. They don’t always get each other.”

“Sure, but I’m not an illogical person and this isn’t logical behavior, Lars. You woke your baby up in the middle of the night?—”

“She can sleep anywhere. And she likes the car motion.”

“And drove thirty minutes to downtown Chicago to … rescue me. When I didn’t need rescuing.”

He snorted. “I saw the photos.”

“What are you doing checking out Rowan’s Insta? Is that what you usually do on your night off? See how the boys are spending it at the club?”

“He’s always posting shit. And that seemed like the best way to see if you were having a good time with him. Because you weren’t going to tell me.”

“I threw a drink at him.”

He caught my gaze in the mirror. “Good for you. What did he do to deserve that?”

“Oh, I just came across a few texts to his bros. Made it clear I wasn’t his main target tonight.” I held up a hand. “It’s not a big deal. But you showing up—with Mabel!—and then hitting him makes it seem like a big deal. It’s stupid, Lars, and does not make for good teamwork.”

“But it felt good.” He flexed his hand, and I couldn’t help myself. I placed my palm over those pinked-up knuckles.

“Did it hurt?”

“Nah, sweet thing. Gloves off is what we do.”