The Right Swipe (Modern Love, #1)(23)

Samson grimaced. He hadn’t been very close to Jennifer, but the older sister had been protective of Annabelle and had kept her little sister out of the spotlight. “Yeah. Luckily, everything worked out for the best.”

“Good thing you were there. You handled that interview with Crush like a champ. I hear Helena might even have you on her talk show? Good deal.”

Oh, that was right. On her talk show with Rhiannon.

Hope at the thought of seeing Rhiannon again filled him. Pathetic.

The timer went off on the oven and he glanced at it. Tina waved him away. “You take care of that, I’ll see myself out.”

He was pulling mini pizzas out of the oven when he heard the door open and a deep male voice say, “Damn, I know we haven’t seen Samson in a long time, but when did he turn into a small blond woman?”

Tina’s reply was muffled, but the tartness of her response was clear from her tone. Samson grinned and dropped the pan on the counter and came out to the foyer.

Harris and Dean Miller both smiled when they saw Samson. For a second, none of them spoke, but then Dean erupted into a whoop and they closed in on him, engulfing him in a big hug.

His two closest friends were both settled in L.A. Getting together over the past few years had been a challenge, what with their lives taking them on different paths.

Harris slapped his back and stepped back. “Look at you. How long has it been, a couple years?”

“At least,” Dean said. The two of them were cousins and were both tall, African American, and handsome, with some similarities in their eyes and the shapes of their face. Dean was way bigger, but he’d been a linebacker, like Samson. Harris was leaner, and still a quarterback. The three of them had played college ball together, but Samson and Dean had also been on the Brewers.

“What are you talking about? It’s only been a month since I last saw Miley,” Samson protested. He smiled at the gurgling baby in the carrier Dean held.

Dean picked up the bulging baby bag he’d dropped to greet Samson. “That was an obligatory drive-by greeting of your goddaughter. Staying with us for a single night doesn’t count.”

Harris glanced curiously inside the apartment. “Couldn’t believe that you’d come to the big city.”

“I like it here. It’s nice.” He might have grown up in a sleepy beach town, technically, but they’d traveled a lot when his father had played ball, and then Samson’s own professional career had taken him to Chicago and Portland. The big city life wasn’t totally foreign to him.

He led the two men into the apartment. Dean placed the carrier on the dining table and unsnapped his daughter. “Want to hold her?” he asked.

Samson may have only seen the child once, but he knew the answer to that question had to be an eager yes or Dean would be mortally offended. “Can’t wait.”

Without ceremony, Dean deposited the baby into Samson’s arms.

Samson jiggled the child, who felt too squishy and bloblike for his comfort. He had nothing against kids, but babies weren’t his wheelhouse. “I’m holding her right, right?”

Harris had made a beeline for the food Samson had spread out on the island and already had crackers and meat headed toward his mouth. “Oh, yeah, hold the princess right or her daddy will kick your ass.”

Dean shot his cousin a quelling look. “That’s because you hold her like you’re about to throw her. She’s not a ball. Samson knows what’s up.” He gently adjusted Samson’s hand on her butt. “Or at least, now he does. There.”

Samson glanced down at the baby and couldn’t help but smile. Her thick black hair stuck straight up, like she’d been shocked. Dean and his neuroscientist wife had adopted Miley from Korea, and the retired player’s life had quickly devolved to answering only to the baby. She blew a bubble with her tiny rosebud mouth and returned Samson’s stare with fascination. “How old is she now?”

“Almost eight months.”

“Jesus.” Samson shook his head. “Time flies.”

“The days are long but the years are short.” Dean hesitated, then moved Samson’s other hand a tiny degree. Samson met Harris’s gaze above Dean’s head, and the other man rolled his eyes.

“How are you liking being a stay-at-home dad, Dean?” Samson asked.

“It’s great.” Dean beamed. “Miley’s an angel. So smart too. She can roll over now and should be crawling in about a minute.”

Samson made an appropriately impressed noise.

“Here, eat.”

Dean accepted the plate full of food that Harris nudged him with. He folded a quesadilla into a square, ate it in two bites, and then flushed when the two of them stared at him. “Sorry. Since Miley arrived, I’ve been hoovering my food whenever I get a second.”

“That sounds hectic.” Samson allowed Dean to adjust his grip. Again. Miley kicked her legs against his stomach.

Harris swallowed his bite of food. “If you trusted anyone but you or Josie to take care of your baby, you could have a free hand. Damn, man, get a nanny. You guys got the cash.”

“I’m not outsourcing my child,” Dean said with some affront. He accepted the beer from Harris and took a sip in a more moderated manner than he had eaten. “Besides, I need this. You have no idea how lost I felt after I retired a couple years ago. Miley’s given me a purpose again.”