“Hi,” he responded, flashing her a grin.

He was a very good-looking man. In a genetic sense, he would make a fantastic father for her baby. And suddenly, her own thoughts seemed so ridiculously insane to her, and Ryder seemed less crazy, and she hated that. She pushed against it. Hard.

“Can I get another beer?”

“Sure,” he responded.

He gave her a look that was far too canny. “Are you trying to make him mad?”

“Why do you ask?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“Because I know when a woman is trying to make another man jealous. I’m not stupid.”

She huffed. Then scoffed. Then huffed again. And realized that was one back-of-throat noise too many to be wholly believable. “He’s just my friend,” she said.

“Oh, I know that,” Laz responded. “I know everybody’s business. That’s my job. But I’m just saying, it seems to me you’re trying to make him jealous.”

She wasn’t doing that. Of course she wasn’t. Ryder wouldn’t care if a man was flirting with her, or if she was flirting with a man. And anyway, she was more trying to annoy him about the possibility that she was more willing to consider Laz as the father of her baby than she was him. Which was entirely weirder than what Laz was accusing her of, so she wasn’t going to say that. Honestly, now she just felt absurd. And wrong. And it was Ryder’s fault. It all felt possible before he had gone and said that to her.

“Well, if I were, what would you think about that?”

He arched a dark brow. “If you were flirting? Or if you were trying to make another man jealous? Because I have to tell you, I have a lot of experience with both. And my actions depend.”

She leaned on the bar and worked her shoulders inward. “Well, what would you do with me?”

“Hey, I respect a lady’s choice. If you’re looking for a good time, you know I’m up for it. But I’d also like you to continue to buy beer from me.”

The problem was she wasn’t really looking for a good time. And every awful conversation she’d had with Ryder was swirling around in her head.

“But,” Laz said, “I do have an aversion to women thinking about other men when they’re with me.”

“I’m not,” she said.

“Whatever’s going on with you and your boy, you should probably figure that out.”

She was going to tell him that he was not her boy, but she had a feeling at this point it was all futile.

“I’ll take the beer and you can keep the life advice,” she said.

“Sammy, if you ever want to come flirt with me when you don’t have someone else on your mind, you know you’re welcome to.”

She took the beer and offered him a scowl before retreating.

“Did he tell you no?” Ryder asked.

“I didn’t ask for a baby. I asked for a beer,” she huffed. “I want to go home.”