“She didn’t want you to know,” Harper reminded him gently. “We need to not spook her. We need information for Isaac.”
It was clear James was frustrated, but he nodded. “Fine.”
“Just stay here. And don’t let her see you.”
Harper didn’t know which woman Megan was, and she didn’t really want to. Or need to. At least not yet.
She wound her way through the crowd, pretending to be looking for the bathroom.
Crossing her fingers that she wasn’t stopping Megan herself, she approached one of the waitresses. “Hi, can you tell me where the ladies’ room is?”
“All the way to the back on the left.” The waitress’s name tag read Lucy.
“Thanks. And can I ask you something else?” Harper asked.
“Sure.”
“Have you worked here for a while?”
“About a year.”
Good. She would definitely know Megan, then.
“I was here with my boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend now—about three months ago, and we had this amazing waitress. He was being an asshole, and we got into a fight and left without tipping her. I thought of it when I came in tonight, and I’d love to make up for it.”
“Oh, wow, that’s, um… really nice,” Lucy said.
“Yeah, but I don’t remember her name.” Harper smiled apologetically. “She was pregnant, though.” Harper felt like she was holding her breath. “Do you know who that is?”
Lucy frowned. “Pregnant?”
“Yeah. This was a few months back.”
Lucy shook her head. “We haven’t had any pregnant waitresses.”
“She might not be pregnant anymore.”
“No one’s been pregnant here at all.”
“Really? You’re sure?”
“All of the waitresses here have been here for a while,” Lucy said. “And we know each other pretty well. No one’s been pregnant. Are you sure you were here with your boyfriend?”
Harper shrugged. “Geez, maybe not. We’re from out of town, so I guess maybe it’s possible we were at another place. Sorry.”
“No problem. But that’s still really nice of you,” Lucy told her with a smile.
Harper smiled and moved toward the bathroom. She let herself into a stall and locked it, just taking a moment to breathe deeply.
Okay, one girl down, three to go. Megan wasn’t Isaac’s mom. There was no reason for James to talk to a woman tonight that he’d found attractive enough to have a hot one-night stand with.
Harper put a hand against her forehead. She wasn’t at all used to feeling like this about a guy. She wanted him. Not just physically—though they were definitely to the point where that was absolutely impossible to deny or ignore any longer—but she liked him. She wanted to help him with the baby and everything else that came along, and she wanted peeks into his life. Peeks that didn’t involve other women.
They still needed to find Isaac’s mom. But it wasn’t going to be tonight. And it was still early.
Harper ran a hand through her hair, smoothed the front of her dress—the dress that James really liked and wanted to run his hand up underneath—and relished the shiver of desire that went through her, remembering his hot words against her ear, and then opened the stall door and headed back into the restaurant.
She slid in next to him where he was leaning on the bar, watching the game that was on the TV behind the bartender, cradling a glass of an amber liquid with one big hand.
“It’s not her,” she said, tipping her head to look up at him.
He didn’t move to give her more room. He just slid an arm around her, tucking her up against his side, settling his other hand on her ass. “Good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. That means we can go dancing.”
“Dancing?” She’d been thinking about straight back to the apartment.
“Dancing,” he confirmed.
“What about Isaac?”
“He’s fine for a little longer.”
“You’re sure?” They’d only made a plan to come to this one restaurant for this one woman, but she assumed the other women were in the general vicinity. They probably should try to do this as quickly as possible.
“The next girl I need to check with doesn’t work nights, and I don’t want to show up at her apartment,” he said.
It occurred to Harper that she hadn’t asked nearly enough questions about these women. She hadn’t really wanted details. Like how attractive they were or how he’d met them or how funny or sexy or interesting they were. She was assuming he’d only spent a night with each of them. She didn’t know that for sure. By his own admission, none of them had been serious or “long term,” but she wasn’t sure what that meant to James.
“Can we go somewhere else?” she asked. They were still in Megan’s restaurant. She wasn’t the mom, and it wasn’t crazy to think James might come into this establishment again in his life and run into her. But Harper wouldn’t mind if they never saw each other again.
“Yeah. We sure can.” He straightened, taking his hand from her butt. He tossed a few bills onto the bar then threaded his fingers with hers and started for the door.
Okay, their mission—for tonight—was over. So maybe this was kind of a date. Now.
He wanted to take her straight home and into the bedroom. Which was why he was leading her across the street to Trahan’s Tavern.
This was a date. Now.
Megan was off the list. Which was great. He remembered the bubbly blonde but not as anything more than a good time, and as soon as he’d seen Harper in the dress she was wearing, he couldn’t have given less of a shit about Megan.
Yes, he wanted to find the baby’s mom. Kind of. He wanted information. He wanted to make sure she was healthy, that Isaac was healthy, and that she wasn’t going to be showing up to claim him in a few months, out of the blue. He wanted to make the kid legally his, and that would require, he assumed, at least a signature from her.
But that was it. He’d much prefer to not have her around for raising the kid. He was going to be fine with that. He had Harper. And his friends. And his friends’ network of friends.
Bea was awesome, and James knew that Caleb and Logan and Gabe had an even bigger group of people who would welcome him and Harper. He intended to go to the next support group meeting to get to know everyone, and he was hoping Harper would go along.
Was this the way he’d intended to finally get Harper out on the town with him? In his bed? In his life? Of course not. But he was a smart guy, and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass by. She was getting attached to the baby. And to him.
He was now going to make sure she knew this was about more than having a second pair of hands to change diapers and rock a fussy baby.
“Oh, this is Logan’s place,” she said, taking in the sign over the door.
“Yep. Best Pimm’s cups in the city,” James said, steering her into the restaurant. “And you have to have the seafood pot pie and the brown butter pecan pie.”
She laughed. “That sounds amazing.” She turned, stopping in the middle of the floor. “But I thought we were dancing.”