Page 8
“Okay,” he said. “And what brings you to Wakan?”
“I’m coming from a funeral.”
His face went serious. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Aunt Lil was ninety-eight, and she had a very good life. Many lovers, as she liked to say.”
He smiled.
“I live in Minneapolis. I’m just driving through. Hey, is it always this foggy out here?”
“There’s fog outside?” Liz asked, looking surprised.
Daniel shook his head. “Never. It’s weird, actually.”
“Huh. So you have a kid?” I asked.
He looked at his watch again. “I do. Chloe.”
“How old?”
“One week.”
“Oh,” I said, pulling my face back in surprise. “She’s little.”
He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring—not that that meant anything. He could have a kid without being married.
“So you have a girlfriend?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have taken this wager if I did.”
“Well, you’re not actually taking me home,” I pointed out.
“But I’m pretending to. I wouldn’t disrespect my theoretical girlfriend.” He grinned.
I had to stifle a smile. “So you’re not with your baby’s mother?”
He looked amused. “Definitely not. I’m fostering.”
Liz smiled. “Chloe is soooo cute. He’s such a good daddy to her.” She nodded at him. “Show her a picture.”
He pulled out his phone and swiped. Then he held it out to me.
A laugh burst from my lips. “Your kid is a baby goat? In pajamas?”
“She is. She goes home in a few weeks. She belongs to Doug. The guitar guy. Mom has mastitis and Doug couldn’t do middle-of-the-night feedings, so I volunteered to help.”
“So let me get this straight,” I said, crossing my legs. “Doug is trying to seduce me with a poorly sung version of ‘More Than Words’ when he has an entire baby goat? If you have a baby goat, you always lead with ‘I have a baby goat.’”
He chuckled. “Technically I have the baby goat.”
Liz put ice into a tumbler. “I keep telling him his Tinder profile could be nothing but a picture of Chloe and an address.”
I laughed.
Daniel smiled and nodded over his shoulder. “Are they watching us?” he asked.
My eyes flickered over to the pool table. “Oh, yes.” I looked back at him. “Carhartt Jacket Doug is tuning his guitar. So how much time do you think we have until I’m serenaded?”
