Secret Dad

by Victoria Pinder

  "Nothing I do ever pleases her."

  She pulled her hand free. "Look, I saw the opportunity to make Peter think of me in the morning, and I took it."

  This wasn't good. He pressed his lips together. "Jen..."

  Then she lifted her chin like she was the queen and had the right to look down her nose at anyone, including him, but he knew what a good actress she was. "Rafe, I'm not even that sorry about it, but I had to tell someone."

  Her eyes watered. He put his coffee cup down on the table beside him. "Jennifer."

  Then she crossed her arms. "Don't yell at me, okay?"

  He nodded. "Can I talk now?"

  She seemed so fragile, but he knew she was a lioness when she had to be. "Of course."

  With this one, he had to speak carefully. Jen would assume he was jealous if he said the wrong thing. An image of Elizabeth and her quiet tears crossed his mind, but he let it go. He stared at Jen. "Peter Morgan loves Belle. Last night he heard she might be dead in a horrible plane accident—he was vulnerable, drank too much and passed out."

  She straightened her dress and avoided his stare. “True. I put myself in his bed.”

  This morning he’d woken to Peter's many messages with questions about the coast guard, but at no time did Peter mention Jen.

  Peter and Jennifer were like oil and water together but she couldn’t see it.

  She gazed at the floor.

  This was a train wreck waiting to hit. "What happens to you if he finds Belle? What happens if she's alive? He loved her. When you dated him, he didn't even call you his girlfriend. You agreed to be friends with benefits."

  Her lips curled in a sneer even as tears formed in her eyes. "She can't be alive.” Her voice became a shamed whisper. “This is my second chance to get it right."

  Belle deserved to be honored. She'd been nice. Rafe drew on his professionalism. "Did you do anything to ensure she died?"

  The tears stopped as her eyes widened. "I'm not a criminal, Rafe. I wouldn't hurt her!"

  Good. He knew Jennifer wouldn’t put someone else in danger. It wasn't her. She would manipulate any situation to get what she wanted though. "Then you don't know if she's alive or dead."

  With a pout, Jennifer said, "Rafe..."

  "Let me finish." He spoke quickly before she could go on another tangent. He checked the time on his phone. It was getting close to lunch and he needed to see Elizabeth. His son. No matter how many times he said it, it still felt exciting. Right now his friend had to listen to reason. "Even if Belle is really gone, sex is not a way to keep Peter. It didn't work the last time you were both together. You got hurt."

  "He was upset over Victoria. Then when she came to their father's funeral, risen from the dead, like one of my telenovelas, Peter wanted to reunite with his brother and sister to have a family."

  She rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms again and stood. "I took your advice and ended things with him right when we found out he was going on dates outside of our relationship, that was my mistake."

  "After you broke up with him, he fell in love with Belle and I never heard him say friend when he talked about her." He stood as well. Her obsession with being a Morgan and the paycheck that came with that family name motivated her.

  It was why he never addressed Peter and John as more than Mr. Professional. Distance made working relationships easier and neither him nor Jen were cut out to be in the House of Morgan. They were ordinary folks. "You can't make people feel something that they don't."

  She threw her hands in the air. "Stop."

  "No, you're going to get hurt." He took both of her hands in his. "You're my oldest friend. Don't go down this road, Jen. It will lead to a bad end and you deserve better."

  She stood up and blew out one of her scented candles. "And you are such an expert? You're not going out there at all."

  Elizabeth holding Brandon in her arms flashed in his imagination, but he didn't say a word. He'd never involve himself with a Morgan romantically, at least he wouldn't have if he’d known her last name. He needed a life partner, not a princess. "Jen, I want to choose the right girl."

  She ripped her hands out of his. "You can't live your life waiting for me. I can never be yours."

  She had it all wrong. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets as his stomach growled at him. He ignored the hunger pain. "Jen, we were high school. That was a long time ago."

  She placed her hands on his shoulder and pushed herself closer to him, giving him a whiff of her floral perfume. "You saved me from my father."

  He'd simply helped her gather information, including addresses of places where her father took her to sell her for an hour or the night. Then they’d reported everything and he’d given her a place to hide out. Ancient history. "He's not leaving jail, if that's your concern."

  "I believe you. You have always taken care of me and I want you to be happy as well."

  The last thing he needed was Jennifer Gonzales doing anything in his life for him; he couldn’t imagine more chaos and drama that followed whatever she tried. He stepped out of her clingy embrace. "Jen, I have to go."

  She crossed the room and went to the dressing room door. "Life isn't about working on cases for other people or listening to us talk about our troubles. I want you to find happiness."

  He kissed her cheek. "As long as I help you with whatever you need."

  She offered her other cheek, then kissed his. "We'll always be there for each other. You promised."

  "I just wish you didn't always choose the hard path." With a shrug, he walked out the door, turning to meet her eyes. "You'd find someone to really love you, if you gave up your obsession with Peter Morgan."

  "I'm not interested. I will get Peter back."

  He closed the door behind him as he left. The click of the door meant he was done here. The hallway buzzed with people dressed for whatever scene they were about to film, and they were measuring steps as he passed the faux mansion.

  Imagining Liz’s smile calmed him, and he took it as a sign that better days were ahead starting now.

  Chapter 6

  Elizabeth centered a white plate covered with a silver cloche on a table set for two beneath the air-conditioned private patio. Outside, the Intracoastal glittered blue while inside her son played on the piano, sitting on his grandmother’s lap.

  If her own father hadn't set out to destroy their family and hurt her mother, her childhood would have been spent in paradise instead of isolation, where no one cared about her.

  She shook off the thought. Rafe would be here soon.

  Her heart raced as she perfected the table setting and then strolled into the house to check her hair.

  Strands had fallen from her loose bun. She tugged the band out and ran her hands through her straight hair, wishing she had more volume. In Vegas, she’d worn her hair down. Did Rafe prefer that style? She batted her eyes in the mirror and wiped a smudge of mascara from her lower lid.

  "Are you okay, Elizabeth?"

  She pressed her lips together and turned toward her mother, who helped Brandon slide down from the piano bench. Then Brandon waited for Isabelle with curious eyes that watched every move. Liz walked toward them, folding her hands. "I'm fine, Mom. Just nervous."

  Her mother took Brandon by his hand and walked to get her pocketbook on the upholstered chair. "The officer that found Brandon was Rafe Soliz? The same from last night?"

  The last thing she wanted was to explain herself, and the circumstances of how she’d gotten pregnant. Her face felt hot. The miracle of reconnecting with her mother had been the one thing that helped her through Brandon's abduction, but what happened in Vegas was so out of character that she couldn’t tell her mom. "Yes."

  "He is quite handsome. He was cute as a boy, too; I remember when his mother brought him with her to the house." Isabelle passed Brandon’s tight baby grip to Elizabeth. "Pilar Soliz and her husband both worked for your father, did you know that? Rafe clearly grew up to be one of those sexy good guys.
He might not have money, but if he treated you right, he'd be a fine choice."

  “For what?” Liz averted her gaze and reached down to pick up her son. "Mom, I don't want to ever hear the word sexy from you. It's weird."

  Isabelle guided her toward the door. Liz held Brandon and walked with her mom as she said, "Are you hoping to make more than a thank you out of today's lunch?"

  This was not a conversation she'd ever thought to have with her mother. Her face burned. "Mom, you should be heading to Peter's for lunch. Don’t want to be late."

  Her mother patted her cheek. "Getting too close to the truth I see. I married a man because my father and his wanted to make a business deal. Mitch and I were both miserable and you all suffered from my bad choices. I want better for my children."

  "Mom, Brandon and I are just fine." No. Her feelings for Rafe Soliz were both thanks and let's work this strange situation out as friends. Yesterday she’d hoped for more, but she was fine if he wasn’t interested. She spent nine months of her life wondering Rafe's last name and his genetic makeup. All she had known about him was that he was fun, easy to joke with and sexy. Now that he was here, though, her heart whispered to get to know him.

  "You are blushing." Her mother chose a shawl near the door for her walk next door as she shrugged. "Caro and Luke seem happy. I'd like the same for you, Elizabeth. I wish I’d married a man I loved and not done as I was told."

  The less they talked about Rafe, the better. She swallowed. "Good-bye, Mother."

  Her mother swatted at her brown coif as if she had something out of place, though her stylist had been at the mansion that morning to help her look fabulous. She winked. "I will get the details of your date out of you later. I noticed Brandon looks exactly like Rafe once did."

  "Mom!"

  "I have eyes. You like him and it's okay."

  Her shoulders straightened. "This is not a date."

  Isabelle turned and blew a kiss to Brandon. "If you say so. I'll be home in two to three hours. Bye!"

  Liz closed the door and then met the huge wide-eyed gaze of her son. He smelled like powder and baby. "Brandon, your mom is going to get you ready for lunch now."

  Brandon tugged up his pants as they walked into the kitchen and checked all the bowls and serving trays. Even though he seemed exactly as he had before his kidnapping, she needed to find a way to make sure, and Rafe’s suggestion of a therapist was a good start.

  She’d made enough food for a ten-person family dinner, but she didn't know what Rafe liked and didn't like, so she’d chosen a little of everything.

  She picked up the salad bowl and carried it out to the table on the back patio. As she bounced her baby on her hip, she placed the bowl down and then ruffled his hair. "I wish you'd say mom or mommy or mama, again. I missed you."

  Brandon didn't say anything. Elizabeth said a silent prayer he’d start again soon. He might be scared. She set his feet down, then held his hand to walk with him into the kitchen and ensure the chicken tenders were ready to be served. As she covered the plate, her doorbell rang. The nerves inside her stomach jumped and she picked up Brandon. "Let's go see who is there. Could be your dad."

  Elizabeth opened the door. Rafe took off his sunglasses to reveal sexy brown eyes. Olive skin and high cheek bones. She smiled. "Rafe!"

  Brandon reached out with both hands for Rafe as he crossed the threshold. "Da."

  Her heart skipped. Her son called out first for Rafe. She swallowed and tried not to be disappointed.

  Rafe winked at Brandon and then gazed into her eyes. "Wow, did you teach him that in twenty-four hours?"

  "No. I've been working on Momma." There had been a slight whine in her voice. She heard it herself. Knock it off, Liz.

  Brandon squirmed in her arms and reached out for Rafe again. "Da."

  Rafe's expression softened as he stared at her son. "Can I?"

  Her son was his too; she’d just known Brandon longer. Rafe had brought him home to her. Despite how her muscles wanted to cling onto Brandon still, she offered Rafe her most precious baby as she nodded, "Here you go."

  He hugged Brandon like they were old friends, but his gaze remained on her. "Elizabeth..."

  The ache in her body for Rafe to hold her too almost overwhelmed her, but she stood taller. "You can call me Liz."

  He nodded. "Liz."

  He rocked Brandon in his arms and her son beamed a huge smile on his face. His happiness sent a calming wave through her. Rafe placed his free hand on her arm and her skin sparked with electricity as her eyes widened. He looked down at her. "You seem more at peace."

  Attraction wasn't part of her plans, despite the memory of his kiss as he’d claimed her almost two years ago. She hugged her waist and turned away. "Of course I am. You saved my life, here. I just wish I knew how to help him."

  "Is Brandon different?"

  "He was almost walking on his own and he called me mama all the time, but now he wants to be held more and he watches me like a hawk.”

  "I’ll call the therapist I mentioned yesterday and run a background check on a few alternatives, if you want.”

  "Okay. That's a good idea.” Her nose whiffed his sexy aftershave and she stepped toward the cold blast of the air conditioner to clear her senses. ”Let's go have lunch— I set us up on the patio."

  "Sounds good. I'm starving." He followed her as she walked toward the kitchen and she knew her hips swung a little more than they usually did. She refused to turn around and look at him until her pulse returned to a normal speed. “Where is Ashley, your maid?”

  “I gave her a few hours off.” She picked up the large tray of various dishes and continued onto the screened patio so they could watch the yachts in the distance. She placed it on the table in front of them and then took a seat.

  Rafe hovered Brandon over the high chair, staring at the levers. She massaged her neck but it didn't stop the heat from rushing to her face. She scooted closer to the chair and put her hands up to take Brandon from him, but Rafe slid Brandon into his chair. "Do you need help putting him in... never mind."

  He then held the boy and strapped him in safely. As he finished, he met her gaze. "It seemed easy enough. Legs go in the holes."

  Her lips puckered as she glanced at him so she sat back and took off the silver cover from the chicken. "You're an excellent father so far."

  He chuckled. "I've had less than twenty-four hours on the job. I'm a work in progress."

  She took his plate and served him chicken, mashed potatoes and corn. She watched him, and he seemed confused, either by the amount of food, or that he was sitting with her watching the water, with their child. It all felt surreal to her too. She twirled the potatoes as she hoped to make him relax and enjoy his lunch. She put the bowl on the table. "Did you have a stressful morning before you came?"

  He tugged at his ear. "Why do you ask?"

  She peeked at him through her eyelashes and then fixed herself a plate. As she settled into her seat with her food, she smiled. "You have lines near your eyes. I was just hoping you weren't stressed about being here."

  "I had to deal with a few things." He pressed his lips together, a sure signal that he didn’t want to talk about it. She swallowed. Police work? Their case? Their son? She cut a grilled cheese into pieces and placed the slices on Brandon’s tray; he swooped in and picked up his lunch fast.

  She made a hand signal for Rafe to watch their son with hawk eyes as she stood and passed by him toward her outdoor radio. She rubbed Rafe’s shoulder. "Well, now you can relax. Brandon loves music. Would you mind if I put something on?"

  Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her favorite station and swayed. Goosebumps rose on her skin because he watched her move. Her chest heaved, but she said nothing, determined to be as fearless as she’d been when she’d first met him. When she turned around, he was staring at her. "Jazz. I'm surprised."

  She fixed her hair behind her ear as she passed him. The smell of oak trees struck her hard, and she knew it was
Rafe’s after shave. Taking her seat next to Brandon, opposite of Rafe, she poured them lemonade. "Why would you be surprised that I like jazz?"

  "You strike me as someone edgier."

  Edgy? Her lips parted as she flipped her hair. She was boring in real life. "Why, because I'm blonde?"

  He glanced at his food. "No. It was... never mind."

  The last thing she ever wanted was to embarrass him. She reached out and placed her hand over his. "What were you going to say?"

  This time his eyes had a twinkle in them. "In Vegas, you were so carefree, I imagined you listened to hard rock, or alternative edgy music."

  "I don’t like hard anything, really. But you seemed dangerous at the time." He'd been someone she couldn't resist. The ache inside her came from how she felt near him. “I never pegged you for a cop.”

  "Detective, actually. I was at a bachelor party and I didn’t want to go to the strip club, which was why I was playing slots when you came and sat next to me...”

  “It was the other way around.”

  “Was it?”

  “You came and sat at my table.”

  “Fair enough. I thought you were cute.”

  “And easy.” She stared down at her plate.

  “No.” He brushed his hand on hers like he had the moment he had sat next to her in Vegas. “That was a first time for me, in Vegas. I never had sex with anyone I wasn't dating before."

  "Really? I thought guys wanted one night stands without complications."

  "I was raised by my mother and had a sister. It was my job to protect them when my father disappeared. I never wanted to be the guy I didn't want my sister near."

  He was a wonderful role model for Brandon. She sipped her lemonade and then replaced her fingers over his warm forearm. "When I remember my life before Brandon, I see a different person. I probably was more selfish then, but when it comes to music I've always preferred classic jazz. It relaxes me.”

  “I like everything, really. Different sounds help me think in different ways.” The music stopped as her phone rang. She took her hands away and he drank his lemonade. "Are you going to get that?"