One to Tell the Grandkids Read Free Page B

but that’s pretty much the least of your problems right now.” He shook his head. “You really have the best taste in hookups, don’t you? The kind of people you—”
    “Hey.” Slate’s eyes narrowed. “Shut your mouth, okay? Whatever happened that night, she seemed like a nice girl. Either way, she’s going to be my kid’s mother, so show some respect.”
    At his own words, Slate paled, and he slumped again. “Oh, man. What am I going to do?”
    “You know I have to ask this, but are you sure you want to take her word it’s yours?”
    “I’m not going to be that prick who insists it has to be someone else. I was a moron that night. We both were. Yeah, I’m not naive. I know she could be trying to pull one over on me, but I’m not going to be the one to suggest that. I’ll keep my eyes open, and if something doesn’t add up, I’ll deal with it then. But really, I just can’t figure why she would lie about it. Why choose me? I’m no one. I’m not rich.”
    “Oh, good. Your rational self seems to have kicked in.”
    “Yeah. Crap, how did this happen?”
    “Looks like you should have spent more time paying attention in sex ed instead of giggling when the teacher was trying to teach a class of freshmen how to use a condom properly.”
    “I did, too. I giggled my ass off in that class.”
    “I know. Are you calm enough now to think before you speak? That woman, Taryn, is probably pissed and scared.”
    Slate grabbed the glass in front of him and shot it back. He waved Oni over. “Can I have another?”
    “Uh, no. No other shot,” Caleb said. “You’re going to need a clear head for this one.”
    “You’re coming with me, right? I can’t do this on my own. I need to borrow some of your calm, or I’m going to freak right out on her again.”
    He looked so much younger than he was and scared. Slate had always brought out a protective side of Caleb, and it had never been stronger than it was right then. “Of course I’ll go with you. I said I would.”
    Slate sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
     

 
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
    “H e looked so dumb. For Patch’s sake, I hope my DNA is dominant,” Taryn said, going over the first meeting for the umpteenth time.
    “You think maybe his stupefied expression had something to do with the fact you screamed the news he was going to be a father, Tare?”
    “You blame me for yelling?” Taryn crossed her arms and hunkered down in the booth, glaring at Rob.
    “Of course I don’t blame you for yelling. I’m just saying, why don’t you wait before you decide he’s a dimwit?”
    Taryn didn’t answer her friend. She was hurt and scared and certain Slate’s being dumb was the best case scenario. He could be any number of things she didn’t want to deal with, let alone let anywhere near a baby. She wondered why she’d thought it was a good idea to find Patch’s father in the first place.
    “Here goes nothing,” Rob said.
    Taryn followed his gaze to the door where Slate stood with his friend. In retrospect, she didn’t understand how she had only remembered that one tattoo. The man standing in the doorway had quite a few more. A full sleeve disappeared up under the concert T-shirt he wore. His hair, back up in a ponytail, was pulled sufficiently away that she saw a tattoo curling from behind his ear down to his neck.
    None of his ink was unattractive, but Rob had been right—tattooed guys were not normally her type. She was drawn to his eyes, though. Tranquil blue eyes and soft hair she wanted to touch again just to see if her memories had done it justice. Bitterness roiled in the pit of her belly. She hated the way her hackles raised at the sight of him. Regardless of the situation, she didn’t want to hate her baby’s father.
    “His friend is a different kind of eye candy, too,” Rob said, trying to inject some lightness into the situation. “A little too proper for my tastes but still not difficult on the eyes.”
    Taryn hadn’t