Crazy for Loving You: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy(31)

I wink at her. “Occupational hazard of getting in bed with someone.”

West chokes on air.

“Figuratively speaking,” I finish. “When you’re born in the world I’m born in, you have to find out things about people. Sorry. Kind of. Also, I’m having complicated feelings about co-inheriting a baby with a guy whose brother plays for the Thrusters. Am I going to get in trouble if I admit I seriously hate them because they beat my home team so bad in the hockey playoffs that I woke up bruised the next day? Rude. How is Tyler, by the way? I could see myself liking him a lot if he got himself traded down here. He should do that.”

Becca’s still staring at me wide-eyed, and I realize she’s not at all impressed by West’s professional hockey-playing brother, but is still very impressed with me.

Maybe because I can spit out a lot of words without taking a breath.

“He’s amused,” West tells me.

“Oh, at the whole baby thing? That is funny. My cousin was a riot.”

Becca’s star-struck exterior finally cracks. “She one-starred West’s job on her nursery. She wasn’t funny.”

“She one-starred a gallery opening for my mom’s new jewelry line once. Mom put itching powder in her sheets in retribution. Now that was funny. Not the part where Julienne was dating a guy at the time who liked to secretly record sex tapes—hello, human decency and privacy laws—but definitely the part where Mom showed her actions have consequences. In the form of Julienne accidentally doing a sex tape where she couldn’t get off because she was itching so bad. Or so I heard. I don’t like watching people’s private sex tapes.”

Becca and West share a look, then Becca looks quickly away.

This isn’t working. Dammit. Now West is going to think all of my favors suck just because this one went sideways.

“Your mom sounds…like she’ll have fun being a grandma,” Becca says while she lines up her wrapped silverware so it’s even with one of the fish scales painted on the table.

“Oh, she will. If it were up to her, I’d have seventeen kids. How many do you guys want?” I pause three seconds, because I’m not actually an awful wingman, and add, “Each, I mean. Sorry. I worded that all wrong.”

“I have the only two I’m ever having.” Becca forces a laugh, but it doesn’t quite erase the horror in her eyes, and now I have to find out what West’s favorite food is and make sure it’s brought in at least seven times a day. “What about you, Daisy?”

“Never gave it much thought. West? Your turn. Is Remy it, or do you want more one day?”

A muscle ticks in his jaw and he looks me dead in the eye.

Yep.

I owe him big time.

“Six,” he says. “Be terrible to deprive Remy of the joy of siblings, wouldn’t it?

“Oh, I don’t know. I was an only child, and I turned out fine. But I guess it’s a good thing I have a big house. That way, we don’t have to make it hard to share custody. Oh! I could even convert a couple of my lounges to schoolrooms, so we could hire private tutors for all of them, and then we’d never have to be separated.”

I smile.

Becca’s forced smile freezes awkwardly, and she looks at me, then West, then back to me, like it’s dawning on her that I might want him around.

That’s right, Becca. He’s a catch. Open your eyes.

“You should’ve seen him singing Remy to sleep last night,” I whisper to her. “Total dad porn material. Does he have tattoos? He won’t show me.”

“I—yes,” she stutters.

“Mango sweet tea and hush puppies!” Laney announces.

“Oh, fabulous. Wait until you taste this. It’s homemade and it’ll ruin you for regular sweet tea forever. Right, Laney?”

“Yes, ma’am, it will.”

She smiles and swings around to put a second basket of hush puppies on Chipper’s table. I pour mango sweet teas all around and pass around the plates, then insist everyone try at least one hush puppy smothered all to hell with the strawberry butter.

Becca moans when she bites into it.

I moan louder.

West ducks his head over his plate and stares at it while he sucks his sweet tea through a straw. His ears have gone pink and it’s only the fact that he looks utterly miserable that’s keeping me from actually having fun right now.

Any woman who only wants a man after another woman shows interest in him isn’t a woman that deserves a guy like West.

Like sixty percent of my good ideas, this one wasn’t actually a good idea. Informative, but I really shouldn’t have done it.

Alessandro sends me a warning glare, and it’s not a quit being a dick look.

It’s a don’t get more ideas look.

Like I wouldn’t be doing West a favor if I showed him that there are women in the world who would appreciate him.

“I could live on these hush puppies,” I declare, and I pop the rest of mine into my mouth with another moan.

When I open my eyes, both West and Becca are staring at me, though West quickly goes back to scanning the restaurant like he’s worried about rabid alligators invading and trying to eat us all.

I dab my lips with my napkin and smile at them. “Why eat if it’s not an experience, right? So. Becca. You have two kids?”