“Very sexy.” Kate grinned. “If I were you, I’d wear them tomorrow night.”
Dani’s eyes widened. “You have a date tomorrow night? Who’s the lucky guy?”
Lana glared at her best friend, who shrugged. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”
“It’s not an actual date,” Lana explained. “Sly and I?—”
“You and my brother are finally going out? Score!”
“I repeat, it isn’t a date,” Lana stated firmly. “We’re getting together to talk—that’s all.”
“Sounds like a date to me.” Dani looked like the cat who ate the canary. “You should definitely wear those sandals.”
Lana itched to tell her about the pregnancy, but she’d given Sly her word. Things between them were precarious enough without her breaking her promise. She rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll buy them. But it isn’t a date.”
Wishing she could relax with a glass of wine instead of making do with sparkling water, Lana sat across the table from Sly at an Italian restaurant on the outskirts of town. The out-of-the-way eatery was packed, and diners filled every table. Carpeting and acoustic ceiling tiles muted the noise level, and the dim lighting, linen tablecloths, and generous spacing between the tables added an air of privacy. Sly had chosen the perfect place for them to talk over dinner.
She was glad she’d dressed up in a silk sheath and, yes, the new silver sandals. He’d also dressed up. In dark pants, a pressed shirt, and tie, he was movie-star handsome. But then, he also looked great in jeans and a T-shirt.
“I’ve never eaten here before,” she said. “How’d you find this place?”
“A couple of years ago, I stopped here for lunch on the way home from a cattle auction. The owner’s mother makes the pasta from scratch using old family recipes. I think you’ll like it.”
Lana was already salivating. “I’m sure I will.”
“I also figured that way out here in the boonies, there’s less of a chance we’ll run into family.”
He’d thought of everything. On the forty-minute drive to the restaurant, they’d made small talk. Lana had shared that Dani assumed they were on a date tonight, which had causedsome muttering. Then she’d updated Sly on her phone call with Sophie, and shared a funny story about one of the kids at the daycare, a boy who’d pretended he was a dog all week, barking and crawling around.
His lips twitched. “Either that’s funny or the kid is seriously deluded.”
Seeing that almost-smile brought out her grin. “He’s fine, just quirky. Some kids are. It’s entertaining.”
“I once had a dog who believed he was a person,” Sly commented, smiling for real this time. “He was quirky, too.”
He told Lana about a run-in with a coyote and the family of meadowlarks that had hatched in his backyard. It was a conversation any couple on a date might have, only this wasn’t a date. They were here to talk about the baby—or so she’d assumed. Waiting for the real conversation was nerve-racking, but she wanted to give Sly the space he deserved.
Meanwhile, doubts ate at her. What if he wanted nothing to do with her or their child? She felt an anxiety that all but killed her appetite. But if that was the case, she doubted they’d be sitting in this nice restaurant, having a non-date.
The waiter delivered the salads.
“Remember, we’re going Dutch treat,” she reminded Sly as they reached for their forks.
He nodded.
“I haven’t heard lately—what’s happening with the lawsuit?” she asked, wanting to know.
“Not a damn thing.” He snorted in frustration.
“What’s taking so long?”
“Your cousin. He’s stalling. My attorney is doing what he can, but I’m about out of patience.”
“Cousin Tim is about as easy to budge as a boulder.”
“On that, we both agree.”
A short while later, the waiter removed their salad plates and placed their dinner in front of them. “I don’t want to talk about the lawsuit anymore,” Sly said. “I want to enjoy this meal.”
