licking icing off his thumb.
Huh. “He’s got a point,” Dakota said to Calder. “A website’s good, but everyone’s on social media these days. Plus we’d be able to show off some of our more unique stuff that’s not on the website.”
Calder sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like that race car-shaped cake you did a few years ago.”
“I’m sure I’ve got a picture of it somewhere.”
“Dad, can I have a car cake for my birfday?”
Dakota ruffled Andy’s hair. “You just had a birthday.”
“For my next birfday.”
“Talk to me again next January. We’ll see if you still want a car.”
“I talk to you every day, Daddy.”
Chuckling, Dakota squeezed his waist and kissed his head. Out of the mouths of babes and all that.
Still on the topic of Instagram, Calder asked, “Don’t suppose Tay is a food photographer?”
“Um.” Dakota pressed his lips together. “I don’t know. We haven’t chatted hobbies. My guess would be no.”
“What’d you talk about on your—” Calder’s gaze cut to Andy. Date, he mouthed.
“Tay draws,” Andy said before Dakota could answer.
He leaned forward to get a better look at Andy’s face. “How do you know that?”
“He told me.”
“When?”
“When we did the campervan.”
Dakota shared a glance with Calder. “What does he draw?”
Andy shrugged, running a finger through the icing he’d managed to get all over his plastic placemat. “A comic book.”
“Did Tay tell you that?”
“Uh-huh.”
Calder slapped Dakota’s arm with the back of his hand. “Now that’s cool. How come you didn’t know that?”
“We did other things on our—” Date, he mouthed.
A knowing expression crossed Calder’s face. “Good thing I took Andy, huh?”
“Tay can draw you a new logo, Daddy.”
That had both Dakota and Calder scowling. Calder navigated back to the homepage. As one, they leaned forward to inspect it.
“What’s wrong with our logo?” Calder asked.
“It’s chunky.”
“Chunky?”
“It is kind of . . . outdated?” Dakota said. It was a three-tiered cake and each tier was . . . well, chunky. Like a grade-schooler had taken blocks and fused them together.
“Think Tay will draw us something more classy?” Calder asked.
“I can ask him. He’s coming for lunch tomorrow after his morning practice and a visit with his Gran.”
“He’s coming to make my castle,” Andy announced.
“What castle?” Calder asked.
Dakota groaned. “That puzzle you got him for his birthday, with all the turrets.”
“Andy, you found a puzzle buddy in Tay?” To Dakota, “He’s a keeper.”
He was definitely something. A keeper? Too early to tell. Dakota was having fun, though, and he wasn’t panicking—surprisingly—about letting someone get close. Maybe it was because Tay was so genuine in his reactions. Dakota didn’t know anyone else who would’ve had the relationship talk on the first date. He was so open.
About his feelings, anyway. About himself? Not so much. Dakota hadn’t missed how Tay had changed the subject whenever he’d tried to get to know him better. Like that bit about knowing what it was like to question your choices? What had he meant by that? Dakota hadn’t had a chance to open his mouth to ask before Tay was leading them outside for a walk.
It was a weird juxtaposition—he wore his emotions on his sleeve, but the rest of him was closed up tight.
From Dakota’s perspective, Tay’s evasiveness was colored with shades of Fiona. Was Tay hiding something he didn’t want Dakota to know about? Why couldn’t Dakota be attracted to people who were better at sharing? Not that he expected Tay to pull a Fiona and make all sorts of plans, then leave him without a word.
Was there something about Dakota that made it difficult for people to open up to him? As the oldest of five kids, he’d often played the role of sounding board for his brothers, but that was family. Was he unapproachable?
That was a puzzle for later. First, he had to get a certain four-year-old to bed. He patted Andy’s hip. “Up. Say goodnight to Uncle Calder. It’s bedtime.”
“No.” Dropping the cupcake, Andy tucked his face in Dakota’s chest, getting icing on Dakota’s apron. “Ten more minutes.”
Dakota hugged him close, inhaling the scent of baby shampoo and sugar. At some point in the not-so-distant future, Andy wouldn’t want spur-of-the-moment hugs from him anymore, wouldn’t beg to spend ten more minutes with his dad. It made him sad how quickly time was passing, but at the same time, he looked forward to the day when Andy was self-sufficient and Dakota could get a little bit of his time back.
Talk about juxtapositions.
“Nope.” He tickled Andy’s ribs, making him