“You do? How?”
“For one thing, Amy just told me that she invited her. And the other… well, let’s just say I know.”
A satisfied grin spreads across his face. “I love being right.”
“What are you going on about?”
“Oh, nothing. Just know, I already told LayLay that I’m gonna be the man of honor and she agreed. Or, she didn’t say no, anyway, so that means it’s a yes.”
I shake my head. Why does he talk like this? He’s so confusing. “Do you ever say anything that makes sense?”
“Sometimes,” he admits. “Don’t worry, it’ll make sense eventually. Anyway, she’s out there. Layla, I mean, in case you’re a little slow on the uptake, here, and she’s nervous as all hell. I’m pretty sure she almost threw up once already. It would be good of you to go out there and fix that.”
“Why would I do that? I wasn’t the one who invited her here. In fact, I’m surprised she even wants to be here with us.”
Dalton rolls his eyes, turning his ball cap backward. “Here’s the deal. You need to get over it and move past whatever you’re thinking because that’s bullshit and you know it. She hurt you, I get that, and yeah, she said some shitty things that hand to God she didn’t mean. Think about it, though. You know her. Or, you did once, and contrary to what you think now, she really hasn’t changed. She went through a period that was probably good for both of you to go through. Obviously that period sucked balls for you, and I get that. But, you’re both still single for a reason. It’s not because you’re not attractive or desirable people, and I say that as a completely straight man who’s desperately in love with his baby mama,” he says with a grin. Fuck he’s a dumbass. “Now. Do you want to live the rest of your life without Layla by your side or man up and take back what’s always been yours? It’s up to you, man. Just remember, she came here and that’s a big first step so now it’s your turn.”
He takes the little smash cake off the counter and heads toward the door. Before he walks through it, he looks over his shoulder. “Don’t put it past me to hand this to Poppy without you, so you’d better fix what’s in your head and get out there. Bigger things to worry about right now, big guy.”
I blow out a breath and follow him, but not before I glare at him and take the cake from his hands. His chuckles follow me out the door.
“Fuck, but I love being right.”
“Shut up. And stop calling me big guy, it’s freaking weird.”
His response is whistling the wedding march. The jackass.
Chapter Thirteen
Layla
Barefoot Blue JeanNight
What in theworld was I thinking? I wasn’t. I couldn’t have been. But damn Dalton got in my head, then my mom, and, of course, Amy’s words of encouragement didn’t help much, either. Or maybe they did help. Either way, I’m here now, and I’m staring into Colt’s eyes.
This could go one of two ways.
Dalton’s way…
Or really bad.
Man, I really hope Dalton wasn’t wrong.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hi.” He clears his throat and looks at Dalton. Not sure what Dalton does, because I can’t take my eyes off Colt, but whatever it was, it makes him roll his eyes. “Good of you to come.”
That… shocks me. All I can do is nod and swallow hard. I’m sure Dalton is gloating but I don’t care.
I still can’t take my eyes off him as he nods — because apparently all we can do is nod at each other right now; we’re like seventh graders staring at our first crush — in return and places the cake on the table with the rest of the food. He gets a little seat set up with a tray in front of it, like a high chair that attaches to another chair.
“Tootsie Pop, get your cute toosh over here.”
Gah. Every time he calls her Tootsie Pop my insides melt a little bit.
She looks in his direction and gingerly walks away from the splash pad, directly into his arms. He lifts her up and she giggles when he blows a raspberry on her bare belly. Her curly hair is wet from playing in the water and she has a cow painted on her face that’s running a bit, but I can still tell what it was meant to be painted as. Mainly because Colt has the same face paint. And damn it if that doesn’t make the butterflies in my stomach take flight.
“Ready for some cake?”