“Then can I see you na**d now?”

“Why would I let you see me na**d now?”

“Because I’m hurting inside.”

I barked out a laugh. “You’re going to be hurting a lot worse when I’m done with you.”

He lowered his head. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“It’s okay. I lied to you, too. I never slept with Santana.” Carlos Santana was his idol, so naturally I’d told him I’d had sex with him after a concert once.

“Oh, that’s so wrong!”

“Dude, you’ve been committing identity fraud for over a decade. Don’t talk to me about wrong.”

“No way. That’s wrong. You can’t just talk about Santana like he’s a piece of meat.”

Oy.

20

There should be one line at every store

for people who have their shit together.

—TRUE FACT

I rushed over to Targé and wandered to the diaper aisle. No Marika. Or, well, no woman with a baby. Garrett had described her to me, but I’d never seen her. They were probably already gone. I had no idea how I was going to get DNA off them. The baby wouldn’t be a problem. I could swab his bottle while Mommy wasn’t looking. But how would I ever get hers?

This was going to get messy; I could tell.

I walked the entire store three times before giving up. I didn’t want to summon Angel to help. He needed some time. Surely I could handle hunting down one mother and a baby without him. Or not. I’d missed them, or so I thought. As I headed out of the store, I spotted a dark blond woman with a baby in the store’s tiny cafeteria. She was drinking a soda and reading a book as the baby nursed a bottle in his stroller.

I walked up and ordered a coffee, chancing the occasional glance over my shoulder. She was a very pretty woman, and yet for some reason not what I figured Garrett would go for. She just looked like a mom. Probably because she had a baby. Maybe that was what was throwing me. Imagining Swopes in a domestic capacity was a little more than my brain could handle.

She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear as I sat in a booth across from her. Clearly a woman of good taste, she was reading a historical romance. I loved historical romances. And contemporary romances. And paranormal romances. And young adult romances. Pretty much anything in front of the word romance would do it for me.

“Is that good?” I asked her, referring to her book with a nod when she glanced at me.

“Oh, yeah, it is.” She closed it and offered me a better view.

“It looks awesome. I love that genre.”

She turned to her son when he cooed at her. “Me, too.”

“And your baby is adorable.”

A brilliant smile brightened her face. “Thank you.”

I rose a couple of inches for a better view into the stroller. Garrett had been right. Her son was clearly multiracial. I wanted a better peek at his eyes and was just about to ask for one when the store manager walked over to her.

“Hey, little guy,” he said, pretending to steal the boy’s bottle until he laughed. Then the man turned to me, and the resemblance to Garrett Swopes was uncanny. Dark skin. Silvery eyes. “Hello,” he said, tipping an invisible hat before kissing Marika on her cheek and sitting down with his family.

* * *

I called Garrett on the way home. “So, I just saw your ex and her adorable baby. Clearly you are not the father.”

He was not amused. “Did you get the samples?” he asked.

“No, I did not. It’s going to be a little difficult to just walk up and swab her baby’s mouth. And even more awkward when I start swabbing hers. What am I going to say, Swopes? ‘Excuse me while I take a DNA sample for my paranoid friend’?”

“Did you even look at him?”

“I did,” I said, “and I agree. He is multiracial and has your eyes, but guess what.”

“What?”

“So does her boyfriend.”

“What?”

“Yep. Her boyfriend looks very much like you. As in, same skin tone, same eye color, same facial features. Do you have a brother you never told me about?”

“No.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d bet my bottom dollar that baby is her boyfriend’s.”

“Charles, you did not see the way she looked at me that day. He’s mine—I know it.”

If anyone could read people, it was Garrett Swopes. “Okay, what if you are right? Then what? She clearly has a thing for guys with dark skin and sexy silvery eyes.”

“But what if there’s more to it than that?” he asked.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, but the way she looked at me, Charles. Like she was scared to death I’d make the connection. How did she seem with him?”

“Fine. I mean they seemed tight. I didn’t sense any stress coming off her when he walked up. They looked really happy, in fact.”

“Something’s not right. I know it. You’re not off the hook.”

“Seriously?” I whined. “I still have to get their DNA?”

“Yes. And sooner rather than later. Now I’m even more curious about what she was hiding.”

“Maybe she was hiding the fact that she finds you paranoid and delusional.”

“I don’t think so. That wasn’t the vibe I picked up on.”

“I’m sending you a vibe right now. Are you getting it?”