One to Tell the Grandkids (17 page)

Taryn squeezed his knee. “Me, too. I thought most guys were terrified of raising little girls.”

“Nah.” Slate waved his hand. “The way Caleb talked about Trinity, she was lots of fun. Kids are great, no matter what appendages they have.”

“Wait. Who’s Trinity?”

“Oh.” Slate’s grin fell. “She’s a kid that used to hang around with Caleb.”

“A kid with Caleb? Where was she hanging out, at the bar?”

“No. Man. Look, just forget I said anything. Caleb doesn’t like talking about her.”

Taryn bit the inside of her cheek. The only thing Slate had done was push her curiosity from mild to an F5 tornado warning. Still, she could tell by the look on his face he really hadn’t meant to say anything. She nodded and let him off the hook.

Yet another piece to the mystery that was Caleb Ryder, and as usual, it only served to make Taryn more confused. She wrung her hands in her lap, distracted as she thought back to that day on the beach.

Things were strained between them, and she didn’t understand why. Despite the fact they’d begun the afternoon in Ann’s hospital room, the rest of the day was so light and easy.

But if she was being honest with herself, she had to recognize the air was dense when they were together. It was a physical thing that existed on her skin, made its presence known in the spaces between words. There was something between them she couldn’t explain. It was different than her camaraderie with Robin, Melanie, or even Slate. It was more than friendship she felt for the man. Caleb existed on a different plane, and it had never been more obvious than in that breath of space when he had her about the waist, held tight against him.

A thrill had gone through her bloodstream, and she’d tensed. Her body had expected a kiss like it expected her next breath, and she’d felt out of sorts when he let her go instead. Had she imagined that electric moment?

Had she imagined the awkward tint of their interactions the rest of the evening? Caleb had bought her ice cream as promised, and they’d talked, but it was different. She’d noticed that he wouldn’t look at her, but she couldn’t remember if he’d looked at her before. She found herself so much more aware of him than she was comfortable with. She began to overanalyze everything he said and wondered if his body language had changed or if she was going out of her mind.

When he called on Thursday to let her know he wasn’t going to be able to carpool with her to LA that week, Taryn figured she wasn’t crazy; something really was wrong.

“Are we okay?” she’d asked.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

But Taryn wasn’t sure.

She’d visited Ann a number of times over the last week, but she hadn’t run into him. She didn’t know if it was okay to call, and she didn’t know what she would say if she did. How was she supposed to broach the subject?
Hey, we kind of had a moment. Do you think we should talk about it?

Taryn spread her fingers wide over her belly. She could explain the moment easily enough from her end. There was something to be said about the second-trimester hormones. She was horny, plain and simple. It was no big mystery that her libido would have given that innocent moment a sexual tinge. It was a perfect setup. The waves crashing at their feet, her arms around his neck, his around her body. In a movie, they would have tumbled to the sand for saltwater kisses as their wet bodies writhed against each other.

Had he seen the spark of desire in her eyes? Was that what had scared him off?

“Taryn Sato?”

Taryn looked up at the nurse.

She smiled. “We’re ready for you.”

Beside her, Slate sucked in a breath. Taryn squeezed his hand, and he looked over at her with wide eyes. “It just keeps getting more real, doesn’t it?”

“There doesn’t seem to be any stopping it.”

Caleb knew Taryn and Slate were going to try to find out the sex of the baby that day, so he was expecting a text. There were several pools going at the bar. Girl versus boy was the first and smallest bet.

But rather than text, Slate showed up on his doorstep. Caleb’s eyes slid right past him to where Taryn stood, half-hidden behind him.

“Hey, Caleb. You got any plans?” Slate asked. He was practically vibrating with ecstatic energy, oblivious to the tension Caleb felt plain as the breeze on his skin.

Taryn wasn’t so oblivious. Her head was bowed, but her eyes flitted briefly up to meet his. Despite the uncertainty in her tight expression, his chest felt warmer just looking at her. He offered a small smile before he turned his attention to Caleb. “I guess I do now, right?”

His friend was smiling like a lunatic. He put his arm around Taryn, his hand possessive over her belly. “You’re taking us out to celebrate. Patch has girl parts, and she’s perfect.”

Somehow, Caleb kept his expression from souring. Of course he was happy for his friend’s news, but the announcement hit him like a bitterly cold wind for more reasons than he could count. His lips turned up because it was what Slate would expect, but his eyes found Taryn again. She was having trouble meeting his gaze.

Caleb took a small breath. He hated that she was so uncomfortable, and he couldn’t be so distracted with Slate around. He looked back to his friend and smiled wider. “Well, that’s great. There’s not much better than a chubby, happy baby girl.”

Slate winced, and his happy grin fell. Caleb could tell he was about to apologize. He’d remembered why the news wouldn’t be so easy for Caleb to hear. “You’re right,” he said quickly before his friend could say a word. “Come on, kids. We’re going to paint the town red. Or pink, as it were.”

“How is this fair? You two are toasting with the best beers in the house while I sit here and gestate.”

Caleb felt bad, but Slate just smiled winningly. “You don’t drink anyway.”

“Yeah, but I
can’t
drink. And you can. That’s some bullshit right there.”

Slate giggled. He was tipsy, maybe a little past. “I’m going to break the seal.”

Finally,
Caleb thought, watching his friend push himself up out of the booth. His thoughts were still clear, and he’d been wanting to get Taryn alone all night. From the way she glanced at him, they were on the same page. They smiled for Slate until he was out of earshot.

“I, I just want to say I’m sorry,” Taryn said in a rush, beating him to the punch.

“What on earth would you be sorry for?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. Maybe you should tell me.”

Caleb leaned forward across the table. “You didn’t do anything, Taryn.” He traced his fingertip around the glass of beer, wiping away condensation. “When we were on the beach . . .” His heart began to pound out an erratic rhythm, and he couldn’t find words. He’d been practicing in his head all night, but they wouldn’t come out right.

“You know there’s that scale, right? The Kinsey scale?”

“It’s a pretty out-of-date scale, but I know what you’re talking about.” He scrambled, trying to figure out where this conversation was going. “It measures degrees of sexuality from complete heterosexuality to complete homosexuality and everything in between.”

“Right. Well, my friend Robin is on the furthest end of that scale. He loves him some dick.”

Caleb choked on a laugh. “Okay. But what does that have to do with us?”

“Well, I’m just saying. There’s no way in hell Robin would ever be sexually attracted to me. I could shove my tits right in his face, and he would just yawn. But one day, when we were playing, um, wrestling”—she gave him a sheepish smile—“and you know how that goes. There was a lot of sliding, stimulation.”

Caleb shifted in his seat. She was painting a vivid picture that wasn’t making things any easier on him. She continued, unaware of his situation. “And he had a perfectly normal reaction. Body to body, it’s just natural to feel something.” Her eyes flicked up to his. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Taryn was giving him an out. She was asking him to tell her he wasn’t attracted to her, that whatever this was between them wasn’t viable except for that one moment in time when they were pressed together. She was making it easy. He should just tell her she was right. That was it. That was all it was.

But it was a lie. He knew it was a lie. Looking at her, he couldn’t help but see how beautiful she was. He was dizzy with want. He noted how close his hand was to hers. It would be easy to reach out and let their fingers entwine. It would be so easy to lean across the table and—

Bad idea.

He cleared his throat. “I’m—” He dropped his gaze to the table. “Yeah. I’m sorry I overreacted. It . . . I guess it caught me off guard, that’s all.”

He looked up enough to see Taryn’s slow nod. She was looking down, too, and he wondered if he was imagining the hurt etched on her features. “Yeah.” She sat up straighter. “It’s cool. You don’t have to feel bad about it. We’re adults, right?”

“That’s what they keep trying to tell me.” The lie felt about as comfortable as a brick in his gut, but he didn’t see an alternative. It had to be done.

Right?

“So we can be friends again?”

At that he raised his head. “We were never not friends, Taryn. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”

Her smile was tight but sincere. “Good. That’s good. That’s the most important part. I . . . you’re important to me.”

At that, he did reach across the table, taking her hands in his. “I feel the same way.”

That much was easy to admit. She was a part of his life now, a good friend, and he would never want to jeopardize the relationship they had, not for Slate’s sake but his own. She was right. They were adults, and he would work through his attraction to save their friendship. She was worth it.

Their hands lingered perhaps a beat too long, but just as the air began to change again, Slate reappeared. They both pulled back, dropping their hands under the table. Slate sighed as he dropped into his seat beside Taryn. “Okay, so when does it get less crazy that I’m going to be a daddy? Caleb. Man, you can’t let me fuck this up.”

He was kidding, but he wasn’t. Caleb pushed the fresh glass of beer the waitress had brought by at him. “You’ll be fine. I trust Taryn to keep you in line.” He looked up at her and smiled. “She’s a smart cookie.”

“And you’ll have our back, too, right?”

“Of course. Of course I’ll have your back.”

Chapter Seventeen

T
aryn pressed one of the pillows from the couch to her face and screamed into it. “What is wrong with me?”

“Not a thing, baby doll.” Rob patted her leg. “It’s just a crush. Crushes hurt. Crushes suck big hairy donkey dick. It’s never pleasant.”

Taryn growled and brought the pillow down to her lap, squeezing it to keep from throttling her friend. “Shut up.”

He straight out guffawed. He’d been trying to get her to admit she was attracted to Caleb for weeks. He didn’t understand why else Taryn was going with him to visit his sister. “Oh, honey. You’re so cute. You’re just not used to this is all. It’s not so bad. Look at you. Your first crush.”

Taryn groaned. “This is not my first crush. I remember this. I’m supposed to be a grown-up now. This is as bad as when I crushed on Rami Najjar in high school.”

“Is it?” Rob asked. The words were quiet, curious. “Is it like high school?”

Taryn stared up at the ceiling. She thought of Caleb’s smile and her heart fluttered. She thought of his smooth moves as he danced to the boy band song. He was handsome and funny. She thought of the tender way he held his sister’s hand, how he’d given up his life so she could have someone with her. She thought of the day they met and how fierce he’d been defending Slate.

“No,” she said. “This isn’t like high school.”

Rob wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him. With a sigh, Taryn rested her head on his shoulder. She was close to tears and that irritated her. There was no reason she should be so emotional. It was the baby. It had to be the baby. Her hormones and emotions were unrecognizable lately. That was normal, wasn’t it? That was all this was. She told Rob so.

He kissed her forehead and rubbed her arm. “Do you remember what you told me when we talked about your whole ridiculous issue with dating?”

Taryn frowned. “You said I was too young to be jaded, and I said there was a huge difference between being jaded and not being in love with the idea of love.”

“What else did you say?”

She’d had a feeling that was what he was getting at. “I said that I wouldn’t deny something that was right in front of my face.”

“This is practically crawling up your nose, sweetheart.”

“Thank you for that visual.”

“Taryn, really. He’s a nice guy, has a successful business, loves his family. Why aren’t you pursuing this?”