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Corey wasn’t sure what to make of the look Marc shot him.
Taran, however, flashed a smile at Marc. “It’s been forever.”
“That’s because I’m still mad at you,” Marc reminded her.
Corey watched Taran laugh, and for the first time, he saw her look feminine. The way the smile danced on her face made her look…almost cute. If he didn’t hate her for what she did and what she was currently doing to him, he might say, in that moment, she was sort of hot. And even though he was mad, he was staring.
“For saying you were decent?” she asked and raised an eyebrow at Marc while a smirk played on her pink lips.
Marc shrugged. “At that point, I wasn’t big on people knowing that fact, and your article made me sound like a nice guy.”
Hmm. Corey hadn’t realized Taran had written about Marc.
“I was doing my job.” Taran didn’t seem at all sorry as she flashed a white-toothed smile at Marc that again had Corey staring.
“Oh,” Beth said from across the table. “Are you doing an ‘In Case You Didn’t Know’?”
Taran turned her gaze from Marc to Beth. “Sorry. Since Corey doesn’t seem inclined, I’ll introduce myself. Taran Murphy. I write for Sports Illustrated, but tonight’s not work. I’m just here with Corey.”
Yeah, right. Corey’s jaw tightened. Will, who’d become one of Corey’s best friends, glanced across the table at him, but Corey just shook his head. It took him a moment to realize everyone was waiting for him to say something.
“Blindly accept this, or we’ll go,” he replied to the shocked hello you’ve said nothing about dating someone expressions around the room.
“I can leave,” Taran offered. “You were right, Corey. This was a bad idea. No matter the reason, a reporter will never be welcome here.”
As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Corey frowned; he knew what the response to that would be.
Like he expected, Beth was on her feet before Taran could take one step. “Taran, I’m so sorry. I’m exhausted and cranky. Any friend of Corey’s is welcome here, reporter or not.”
Marc wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist and pulled her close. “I was teasing, Taran; you did right by me. I know I’ve given you crap about the article, but you told the truth. And I’m pretty sure my agent approved it.”
Taran smiled.
“I didn’t know to save dinner, but do you want a beer?” Beth asked.
Luke hopped up from his seat next to Corey and went for another chair so Taran would have a seat, and Danny struck up a conversation with her. They all stepped up for him. And that felt like lead in his stomach because she was here for a story, so he grabbed the last beer off the table for himself.
“If you want a beer, get it yourself. I pitched seven innings while you sat and did nothing,” Corey told her.
Danny blinked at him before turning to Taran. “Well, doll, I’ll get you a beer and then tell you all the ways you can thank me.” He directed his lady-killer smile at Taran as he got up.
“She’s not pretty enough to be your type,” Corey asserted before he thought better of it. Morgan sucked in a breath, but Taran stared indifferently.
“It really galls him that I’m not a baseball bunny. I offered a makeover, but he said I wouldn’t be around long enough for that. Right?” Those green eyes full of challenge turned his way, and he was lost. He heard a few chuckles around the table. “I’m not Danny’s type either, huh?”
“Taran,” Danny called from the fridge, and she turned away from Corey. “You have two x’s, right?”
Taran clearly didn’t understand.
“Chromosomes,” Corey explained.
“Yeah,” she hedged.
“Then you are most definitely my type, and,” Danny said, leaning down to put her drink on the table and linger over her shoulder, “I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this, but you have dirty eyes, and I love that.”
The smile Danny sent her made her laugh out loud. But damn, that was it; when she smiled, she did have dirty eyes.
“I’ve definitely heard it. It’s why I keep ending up with men so far out of my league.” Taran sent Danny a sly smile as she leaned back in her chair. “And you look like a bag of fun.”
It was Danny’s turn to laugh. “Too bad you didn’t meet me first.”
“Shut up, Danny,” Corey hissed automatically.
The older Danny got, the more he looked and acted like his older brother, Bob, who was Beth’s first husband, and it always put Corey on edge. He reached for another beer that Danny had brought over, and Marc looked at him quizzically before taking back his daughter. Probably a good idea because Corey was getting his drunk on.
