Page 14 of A Complicated Bride

“Anyone ever tell you you look like Ted Danson in 3 men and a baby?”

“Never. I usually get Cary Grant.”

“Pardon?” I pretended not to know what he meant but he saw right through me. Probably because I’d been thinking all along at the back of my mind that he could be Cary Grant’s grandson.

“Don’t pretend now, honey. Not when you’ve been so real with me.” His smile was gone and I could sense disappointment. I had no idea what that was all about.

“Now you don’t recognize a little teasing when you see it? I didn’t take you for the sensitive type.”

He held the baby against the towel draped on his soaking wet white shirt, wrapping her in it, and he watched me without a response for a beat and a half. I was about to pink up, feeling warm and foolish, like I’d been somehow insensitive, which was not like me at all. I’d never tease a man if I thought he was truly vulnerable.

Apparently Brad the world renowned photographer of the stars had a vulnerable spot. And shame on me for hitting it.

“I’m sorry.” We both spoke at the same time and it seemed absurd. So then we both laughed at the same time, hugging our baby girls and drying them while we sat on the edge of the platform.

“You do look like Cary Grant. Especially around the mouth. If Cary were soaking wet and holding a baby.”

“It’s funny. Usually the older women spot it. Or movie buffs. Like you.”

“Theater buff too.” I instantly felt like a geek, but I kept up my grin because the pleasure fueling it wouldn’t go away.