Each member of the Mommy Mafia looked over at their guys and sighed, with the dreamiest look in their eyes.
Hailey’s heart stuttered.
The love. The admiration. The happiness they felt for their husbands was undeniable in their expressions.
Hailey followed their gazes, and she understood why. Their husbands were obviously great dads. Attentive to their children. Devoted family men.
One of the little girls clung to her father’s leg, and he kept talking to his buddies as though it didn’t bother him in the least while stroking the top of her head.
Two other kids ran in circles around the cluster of dads.
One of the father’s held a small boy in his arms, and the child sucked his thumb and dozed on his dad’s shoulder.
Tears stung the backs of Hailey’s eyes.
What a fool she’d been. What a stupid, selfish fool. Had she really been trying to protect her daughter all along? Or had Hailey been protecting herself from the same rejection she’d felt from her own father?
She was afraid of the answer, but deep down, she already knew the truth.
At that moment, Hailey was certain she had to tell Dylan. He deserved to know about Mel. Deserved to make the choice for himself, even if he decided to push their daughter away because he didn’t want to be a father.
Just as important, Melody deserved a chance to know her dad. A chance Hailey had denied her.
“It was really nice to meet all of you.” A tremor coursed through her words, causing her voice to crack. She cleared her throat. “I’ll go find my daughter and bring her over.”
Hailey skittered away, beating back the tears of regret.
She found her daughter in the middle of a huge group of folks standing around the pets. All were on leashes or crated, and manned by a volunteer. “Mommy!” Mel shouted, petting a lanky lab mix with sad eyes. “Look at the puppies!”
Oh dear.
Hailey’s mom shrugged. “When I offered to bring her to the flea market, I didn’t know there would be a pet adoption,” she whispered.
“Hey, kiddo.” Hailey went down on her knees next to her daughter and gave the dog a scratch.
“Can we take him home?” Mel asked, hugging the dog’s neck.
Hailey sighed. “Not today, baby girl. We’re not home enough. A dog would get very lonely.”
Mel’s bottom lip stuck out. “But we live at Grammy’s now, and she’s at home with me all day.”
Hailey ruffled Mel’s hair. “We won’t live at Grammy’s forever. Eventually, we’ll get our own place. I’ll be at work, and you won’t be home during the day either once you start kindergarten.”
“But I want a puppy.” Mel’s voice shook. “And he needs a home. I’ll take good care of him, I promise.”
Gently, Hailey combed a set of fingers through her daughter’s silky dark hair. “Oh, honey—”
“Hailey,” a deep voice said from behind her. The fluid tenor hummed through her, and she let her eyes float shut for a beat.
She stood and turned to face Dylan.
Apparently, he’d hunted down another T-shirt because it had Metallica emblazoned across the front.
“Not here.” Her tone was just as stern as his expression.
He glanced at Mel. “Somewhere else then.” His gaze shifted back to Hailey. His determined look said he wasn’t going away. Wasn’t dropping the subject. And definitely wasn’t taking no for an answer until he said whatever it was he obviously needed to get off his chest. “I need a moment. Privately.”
Hailey prayed for patience. And that the fires of hell wouldn’t spring from the earth and consume her for the secret she’d kept for six long years.
But now wasn’t the time or the place to fess up. Not with so many people around. Dear Lord, the gossip that would set off made her bristle.
Dylan folded both arms over his chest, his expression dark and unyielding. He wasn’t backing down.
“Fine,” she finally said. “Let’s find a spot away from the crowd.” She shot a look at her mother. “I’ll be right back. There’s a table of children’s books across the park.” Maybe that would distract Mel from the dogs.
Dylan took charge, leading Hailey away. He found an isolated spot behind the big oak tree where the musical instruments were on display. The table of children’s books, manned by the Mommy Mafia, was far enough away that no one could hear what Hailey and Dylan said.
Not that it made Hailey feel any better. She’d still have to tell him the truth. Later that night and in the privacy of his home would be ideal. Not in a crowded park where gossip spread faster than a bad skin condition.
Dylan stuffed both hands into his front pockets. “I care about you, Hailey. I always have. And I know you still care about me, or else you wouldn’t have my first hit song as your ringtone all these years later.” A dimple appeared above his lopsided smile. “And you wouldn’t be wearing my shirt if you didn’t feel something for me now.”
Heat crept up her neck, and she couldn’t help but give him a shy smile.
He took a step closer. “I wrote that song for you, ya know.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You…you wrote it for me?”
He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “Yes, I did, and just because I didn’t get credit for it doesn’t change the fact that you were the inspiration behind it. I missed you so much after I left. By the time I realized the music world was a dirty business, and I wouldn’t compromise my integrity just to belong, I tried to call you. But you didn’t answer and never called me back.”
She hugged herself, rubbing the chill out of her arms. “I was hurt.” And afraid. And alone.
He blew out a heavy sigh. “I know you were. You had every right to be hurt, but I’m not that guy anymore.” He thumbed his chest. “All grown up now. And I want a second chance.” He looked around her toward the crowd, and hitched up his chin. “I want a chance to prove myself to both you and your little girl.”
She turned and followed his gaze. Hailey’s mom had led Mel over to the table of children’s books, where she was pushing a button on one of the interactive books. Every time she pressed it, the book played Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
Hailey turned back to Dylan, let her head fall back, and took in the blue sky. A gentle breeze made the oak leaves shuffle and sway. “About that. You were right, we need to talk.”
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star started playing again from behind her, this time live on a keyboard. It was childlike playing, but good enough to actually sound like the song.
Dylan’s jaw fell open.
Hailey’s chest tightened, and she turned around slowly.
Melody was in the middle of the sale instruments. Behind the keyboard. And she was tapping out the song with her little fingers on the keys.
Lorenda smiled and walked over to Mel to praise her.
Hailey knew the second Dylan realized Mel was his because his eyes flew wide, then turned stormy as his stare landed on Hailey again. “Oh, my fucking God,” he whispered.
He stepped around her, bee-lining it to Mel.
“Dylan, wait.” Hailey reached for his arm.
He stepped out of her reach. “Don’t even.” He kept walking toward their daughter.
Hailey hurried behind him.
“She’s obviously had lessons,” said Lorenda to Hailey. “Have you found her a new teacher since you moved back?”
Before Hailey could answer, Mel shook her head. “I don’t take lessons.”
“Oh.” Lorenda’s expression said she was as surprised as Hailey that she could play an actual song without lessons. “How’d you learn to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?”
Mel shrugged and pointed to the interactive book she’d left on the ground next to the keyboard. “I listened to it a bunch.” She tapped out the notes again.
“Then you’ve got a natural ear for music, hon,” said Lorenda, with appreciation. “If you’d ever like me to work with her, I’d be happy to,” she said to
Hailey. “That kind of natural talent is rare.”
Dylan shot a scalding glare at Hailey. “Not really all that rare. Not when it runs in the family.” He shrugged sarcastically. “Not when it’s passed down from one generation to the next.”
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak.
Lorenda’s smile faded. “Um. Maybe I should go.”
Dylan held up a hand. “No need to go. I’m leaving.” He turned his back to Lorenda and leaned down to whisper in Hailey’s ear. “You’ve kept me from her for years. I don’t plan to miss another minute that I’m entitled to, so you’ll be hearing from my attorney.”
He strolled away, through the park, and disappeared down the street.
And Hailey didn’t blame him one bit.
Chapter Nine
How could she? Dylan couldn’t get back to Joe’s fast enough to finish sealing up that damned hole in the wall to separate Joe’s from Shear Elegance. Forever. He made sure to stay on the right side of the wall that time.
Because he’d never again step foot inside Hailey’s salon.
How dare she?
He slammed another brick onto the top of the wall.
Just a few more layers to go and he’d be forever separated from the person who’d been lying to him for years.
Deceit. Deceit didn’t even begin to describe the situation.
He should’ve known. Should’ve trusted his gut instinct the first time he saw Melody. But he hadn’t wanted to believe that Hailey would lie about something so important. About his own flesh and blood. So it had been easy to convince himself that Big Guy was Melody’s father when the three of them had shown up at Joe’s for dinner and acted like a happy family.
Who was that prick anyway? Did he think he was Hailey’s father? Wouldn’t surprise Dylan. If Hailey would keep the truth from him, she’d lie to someone else.
He fucking despised liars.
Mortar flew in every direction as he worked, no longer able to keep his anger in check.
Why should he?
He slammed down the next brick with such force that the bricks beneath it shook. The new wall listed, then gave way, falling in and knocking Dylan’s ladder off balance. He crashed to the floor, the ladder landing on top of him.
“Fuck!” he yelled at the ceiling.
The dishwasher, the cook, and two servers rushed to see if he was hurt.
“I’m fine. Just get the ladder off me,” he grumbled.
The dishwasher set the ladder upright, and the cook held out his hand to help Dylan to his feet.
Dylan shook his head and waved off the offer. “Go back to work. I can take care of myself.” He braced both forearms over his knees, staring at the pile of bricks and the gaping hole that had reopened like a festering wound.
Jesus. The songwriter’s festival was due to start soon, with a bunch of up-and-coming musicians showing up, who would look up to Dylan. How could he keep his shit together in front of them now, so they could glean from his experience?
Screw it.
He pulled himself to his feet.
He located Joe’s old storage closet, found an old piece of plywood and a nail gun, and went to work on the wall again. He was not going to have to stare into Hailey’s salon for days until their contractor finally made fixing it a priority. The damned hole was going to be closed off today, or he’d die trying. Which he just might, because he’d never actually operated a nail gun.
He held the plywood up to the hole, but how in the hell was he going to keep it in place while he used the nail gun?
He leaned his forehead against the sheet of wood, and clamped his eyes shut in defeat.
And asked himself out loud, “Did I give her a reason not to tell me about Melody?”
“Yes,” an old crotchety voice said from behind him. “You did.”
He glanced over a shoulder to find Ms. Francine standing there, and Uncle Joe right behind her. She shooed Uncle Joe away. “You can leave us alone for a bit.”
Dylan wasn’t at all sure he wanted to be alone with Ms. Francine and her scary purse, but he set the plywood aside and faced her anyway.
“I figured you were the father of Hailey’s baby from the start.” Ms. Francine pursed her lips.
“But how?” Dylan hadn’t even jumped to that conclusion until six years later when he finally came face to face with his little girl.
She shrugged and studied her nails. “Wasn’t hard to figure out. All you have to do is pay attention to people. That’s why there’s not much that goes on around here that my sister and I don’t know before everyone else. At our age, we don’t have much else to do but people watch.” She stopped examining her nails. “I heard what happened in the park.”
Already?
Great. Just great.
“Oh, no one knows what all the fuss was about…yet,” she cooed. “So I figured I’d try to talk some sense into you before you do something you’ll regret.”
“Regret?” He blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m not the one who should have regrets.”
“Really?” Ms. Francine’s purse swayed gently, dangling from the notch of her elbow. “No regrets about leaving her sitting at Joe’s all alone? No regrets about not contacting her because you were off living a dream while she was trying to figure out how to take care of herself and a baby?”
“I’m the victim here,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You know,” Ms. Francine cooed. “I’ve been friends with Hailey’s grandmother for years. We grew up together right here in Red River, and stayed close our entire lives. Hailey’s mom was pregnant when she and Hailey’s dad got married. Did you know that?” Ms. Francine blinked innocently behind a pair of Coke bottle glasses.
Dylan shook his head, wrinkling his brow.
“Hailey’s dad never let her forget it, either. He’d earned a spot playing minor league baseball, but that doesn’t pay much. So before he had the chance to get bumped up to the big leagues, he gave up baseball to stay here, get married, and take care of his…” Ms. Francine tapped her chin like she was thinking. “To take care of his mistake, I think was the word he used. She was the reason his chance to play baseball was ruined, and he didn’t hesitate to tell her so.” Ms. Francine stroked her purse as though it was a pet. “Imagine what that did to a young mother, and her child, too.”
Dylan tried very hard to read between the lines, but the purse thing was just flat weird. So he pinched the bridge of his nose, and decided to go for blunt. “You’re saying Hailey didn’t want to follow in her parents’ footsteps?”
Ms. Francine shrugged. “Who would?” She tapped a finger against her purse. “Let me ask you something. What would you have said to Hailey if she had told you she was pregnant?”
Good question.
He turned to pace the length of the room, rubbing the back of his neck.
When he and Hailey got together, they’d both had plans to leave Red River in the not-too-distant-future. As much as he’d grown to care about her, he’d been determined not to let anything get in the way of his music career.
And he hadn’t been shy about telling her so. Of course, at the time, she was ambitious, too, with big plans and even bigger dreams to become one of the best in her profession. That was the reason she’d gotten him unlike anyone else he’d ever met.
In return, he’d left her sitting in a booth alone.
And added insult to injury by not calling her until months later.
“Truth is I don’t know what I would’ve said, Ms. Francine. I wasn’t ready, and maybe Hailey knew that.” He reached the end of the room and turned to pace back in the other direction.
Ms. Francine was gone.
Well, hell.
He laced his fingers behind his head and blew out a frustrated breath.
He doubted Hailey had been ready for the responsibilities of parenting either, but she’d sucked it up and done an exceptional job from what he could tell. Followed her dreams while raising a child. Shouldered all the respon
sibility without asking anything of him.
Wow.
He’d been right all along when he’d wondered if Hailey hadn’t married Melody’s father because he was a douche.
He headed for the front door, passing the long bar where Uncle Joe was perched on a barstool. “Yo, Unc.”
Uncle Joe grunted.
Dylan smiled. “I’ve got something important to handle. Be back as soon as I can.” Then he stopped cold, and turned to his uncle. “I promise you I’ll work my hardest to keep your legacy going. But I’ve realized that work isn’t the only thing that can have a place in my life. If you trust me and my work ethic, I won’t let you down, Uncle Joe. I give you my word.”
Without waiting for an answer, Dylan strode to the exit. He couldn’t change the past, but he could definitely have a say in the future. And nothing—not his career, or Cotton Eyed Joe’s, or a songwriter’s festival—would ever come between him and his daughter again.
* * *
Hailey strolled along the river that ran through the south side of town, trying to clear her mind. She’d asked her mom to take Melody home to shield her from any potential fallout after Dylan threatened legal action, then stormed away from the flea market.
She’d spent years trying to protect her daughter, only to end up with a custody battle looming over them.
Oy. Effing. Vey.
How could this be happening?
She stopped under the covered walking bridge and gazed into the flowing water.
How could she have let this happen?
Worst of all, how was this going to affect Mel?
With a soul-deep sigh of sadness, she tossed a rock into the water. Then she headed on foot to Cotton Eyed Joe’s to finally have the conversation she should’ve had with Dylan six years ago.
When she arrived, Joe was sitting at the end of the long bar, but Dylan wasn’t bartending. “Um, Joe?” She chewed a corner of her mouth. “Is Dylan around?”
Joe shook his head. “Said he had something important to do.”
Hell. She’d bet a kidney it had something to do with Mel, like maybe he was already calling his attorney friend, Kimberly.
It’s In His Song: Book 6 Page 9