Chapter 5

Court and Mila both insist on going back to Eli and Court's house so they can see Margot instead of letting Landon just bring her home. I don't blame Court. Margot is much better company than me tonight. I was up past midnight recording videos, and then Margot had a rough night of sleeping, waking every hour until it was time for us to get up and go to work with Mila. I've been dead on my feet all day.

I give a sleeping Margot a kiss on the forehead when Landon meets us at the door, but I let Court lift her out of the wrap that Landon's been holding her in. We brought her portable crib for her to sleep in, but it's no surprise that Landon held her the whole time. He keeps claiming that he has to hold her all he can now since he won't get to hold her as much when I move out next week.

Once I come into the family room, I notice, with surprise, that Lincoln Knight is here. My heart does a little flutter thing that I put a stop to right away. I can't help thinking about the way Mila and Astrid tried to tell me that he comes to the truck for me. I shake all of that away. Lincoln is twice as hot as You Know Who—maybe more, because as far as I can tell, the tall, broad running back is friendly and sweet.

And maybe he really is. I just don't plan on finding out if he's not everything he seems. That would be a disappointment. He has the sweetest smile, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't look forward to seeing it every day at the bakery truck.

"Hey, Layla," he says, greeting me with that same sweet smile.

"Hi, Lincoln." I drop into a seat on the sectional, and Lincoln sits down too. "How were your cake pops?"

He gives a forced chuckle and rubs at his jaw. "Delicious, of course."

I lean forward on my elbows and lower my voice. "And you're not going to tell me your secret workout?"

His expression relaxes, but only slightly. He rubs his hands together in a nervous kind of way that has me intrigued about him. I'll give him that—he's not charming in an obvious way. Maybe his thing is endearing. I could see how that would work on some girls.

"Football helps," he says.

I ignore the image that pops into my head of Lincoln in his uniform, lined up next to Eli. What woman wouldn't keep that image tucked away in her brain? It gives me an idea though. Eli is a great guy, and Lincoln seems to be too. Astrid has a much better chance of finding a good guy among the disciplined ranks of the LA Rays. Definitely a better chance than with an actor.

This is brilliant.

I grasp my hands together under my chin and lean even closer. "Lincoln, can you help me with something?"

"Of course."

It kind of surprises me for a second at how quick his agreement is. Which means that I have to take another second to remember what I was going to say in the first place. "Um, I have a friend. Astrid, the new girl that's working with me and Mila."

He freezes, then swallows. "Yeah, I kind of remember her."

"I need to find her a date," I say. Lincoln nods slowly. "Do you know anyone on the team who'd want to be set up?"

His shoulders relax. "I'm sure I could round up someone." He clears his throat and opens his mouth but then doesn't say anything. Then he clears his throat again.

"If you're not okay with setting someone up—" I hurry to say, but he waves his hand to stop me.

"No, it's fine. I just wonder if maybe … should we … um, should we double, just as friends, of course?" He's rubbing his hands together again.

I'm sure that women flirt with Lincoln all the time. I'm guessing he has a slew of ways to gently say no to dates, and maybe some not-so-gentle ways. As I watch him flounder a little nervously, I wonder if he's the kind of guy who ends up on weird dates because he can't say no. And it wouldn't surprise me if he was nervous about me using the setup story to get a date with him.

"We don't have to," I assure him. "I wasn't trying to set myself up or anything like that." Heat floods my cheeks. He probably thinks I'm trying to be cool or something about going out with him.

And I don't want to date Lincoln Knight. I don't want to date anyone.

"It's fine," he says quickly. "I didn't think you were."

"Oh good." It's all I can come up with to say.

Silence fills the space around us.

"I think it would be, um, easier for our friends if we made it, like, a laid-back thing with us there too?" he says hesitantly. "Like … not putting all the pressure on them."

I didn't think about that. Sure, I've had awkward dates, but I also have the skills to get myself through them. My heart melts a little at the fact that Lincoln probably empathizes with someone being unsure of themselves on dates. "Yeah, you're right. Let's do it." Really, it's part of a matchmaker's responsibility to look out for the people she's setting up.

Lincoln bobs his head in agreement, and then several beats go by before he says, "How was your girls' night?"

I settle back against the couch. "Fun. But I was terrible company tonight." I sigh and close my eyes for just a second.

"I doubt that." His low chuckle sends a shiver through me, and I don't open my eyes. He might see how much I like the sound of his laugh.

"It was just dinner and a lot of good talking," I say. "We're all exhausted. Mila needs another baker, even though there's not room in the truck for two people to work. And Court's a teacher. Nobody needs to explain why she's tired."

"Sounds like just what you all needed." His voice is like a lullaby, smooth and deep and perfect. So calm I could fall asleep.

I finally open my eyes. "What I could use is a nap. Does that sound like a fun girls' night?"

He laughs again. "I could get behind that." He pauses, and when I look at him, his nervous tic has turned into rubbing one hand along the tops of his thigh. He stops as soon as he sees my glance. "I don't know anything about babies," he says with a rueful look. "Is Margot a bad sleeper usually?"

"No. She was last night. But I do work at night to supplement my bakery work." I give a little shrug.

"Two jobs." Lincoln whistles lowly. "Superwoman."

I shake my head. "Just a regular woman."

He shakes his head back at me but doesn't argue.

"Margot is a good reason to be tired," I say softly.

"I don't have any baby skills." He leans forward. "But I'd still be happy to help." His voice is earnest.

I smile. "Thanks. I have plenty of babysitters, to be honest." I gesture toward the opposite side of the couch from us. Court sits in the middle, holding Margot. Eli sits on one side of her, his arm around Court's back. Mila is on her other side, and Landon is on the other side of her. While we watch, he leans over and runs a finger gently over her mass of silky, dark curls. The thickness she got from me. The curls, unfortunately, she got from him. When I glance back to Lincoln, he's biting back a laugh. "And my parents are happy to babysit anytime," I add.

"They're close?"

"Culver City. And they're avid grandparents."

"Well, my offer still stands." He clears his throat right after he says it, and I swallow a smile. When I first started trying to find acting jobs, one of my roommates was a woman who couldn't put two sentences together unless they were written into a script. But on camera? It was like that's where she found herself. She's a regular on a sitcom now. Lincoln reminds me of her.

"Thanks." I scoot to the edge of the couch and address the crowd around my daughter. "Okay, time to get her home to bed."

There's a collective soft groan at my words, and it makes me laugh. Half of the crowd on the couch is coming home with me.

"I get to carry her out," Mila says to Landon, reaching for Margot from Court, who gives her up with a sigh.

"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Lincoln says with a half smile. It's self-deprecating.

"I think you have an addiction," I whisper. "But no one can blame you. Mila's chocolate chip cookies must have some kind of secret ingredient."

"That's my best guess," he says. I lean over to grab the diaper bag, but Lincoln beats me to it. He picks it up and throws it over one shoulder. "I'll walk you out," he says. "I'm headed that way anyway."

My heart flutters again, but I shove it away. Lincoln is perfect friend material. That means I won't have to be disappointed when he's not the "Knight" he seems like now.