by Marina Adair
Gage straightened, then smiled. Tiny smiled back.
“You’re a ballerina, aren’t you? Yeah, I could tell. I saw this documentary on ballerinas a few years back. They were dressed like you, minus the sparkles though. Real athletes, those women. And they talked about being light on their feet—”
“What’s a documentary?”
A throbbing started behind his right eye. “You know, like a movie or a TV show, but it teaches you things.”
“Like Angelina Ballerina?”
“Yeah, like that,” he said and, great, now he was lying to small children. “Anyway, they said that although feet were important, it was also about the arms. Ballerina’s needed to have small arms.” He thought about what kind of complex that might give a growing girl, then added, “Small but strong arms, that can fit in small, tight places.”
She crinkled her nose. “Like through a hoop?”
“Sure.” He looked at the mail slot. “Or tight spaces like that. Can you reach through there?”
“Ah huh,” she said, but instead of fetching him the letter, she took off giggling down the stairs.
“Hey, Tiny,” Gage called after her. “Where are you going?”
“To get my mom and tell her you’re trying to steal her mail.”
Shit!
At least she wasn’t fetching her dad to tell him some crazy creeper was asking about her small arms. “It’s not her mail, well the top one isn’t. It’s mine. I accidently dropped it in the slot without, ah, signing it.”
Tiny stopped at the bottom step, turned back around, and gave him a look that implied she thought he was full of shit. And he was. But he was also desperate. “Can you help me? No point in giving a letter if it isn’t signed.”
He watched her consider her options: help the stranger or run for help. And just when he thought she was going to walk on the wild side, her eyes drifted to the right—not to the house where her mom, the cook or maybe the cute assistant he’d met the other day was—but to the rose garden, where Darcy was holding a bouquet of roses, pink like Tiny’s tutu, her face frozen in horror.
Everything in his brain seemed to freeze, unable to put together the logical pieces, as he stood paralyzed on the porch of Darcy’s house.
Her home, she’d called it.
Darcy called out, most likely to her little girl, because Tiny turned her head back toward Gage, and when he met those piercing blue eyes head on, his heart stopped—right there in his chest. It gave one hard thump of recognition, then nothing.
Time slowed, rewound to a place where every pain felt fresh, raw, so insurmountable he had to question if what he saw, and what he felt, lined up. It was as if his entire body was holding its breath, waiting for his mind and his heart to search all of the implications, all of the possibilities, and come up with an answer that made sense.
The cute nose, caramel ringlets, and dusting of freckles were all Darcy’s. But those eyes—and this was where the anger made way for anguish—Jesus, those eyes were Easton blue. Filled with excitement and mischief and a little bit of attitude. Even that crooked smile, which said she knew she was in trouble for talking to a stranger but it was worth it, was all Kyle.
A feeling too difficult to articulate and so unfamiliar overwhelmed him as he struggled to get his emotions under control.
“Hey, Tiny. You never told me your name,” he managed past the lump in his throat.
Tiny looked over her shoulder once more, then gave him a toothy grin that damn near made him weep. “Kylie. What’s yours?”
Kylie.
Gage took a step forward, then eased down on the top step, afraid his knees would buckle.
Kyle had a kid.
And Gage had a niece. Who was bright, and beautiful, and liked frosting and all things dancing. Yet, he didn’t know anything else about her.
Not a damn thing.
“Gage,” he pushed out through the emotion squeezing his throat. “My name’s Gage.”
“Gage is that old friend I was telling you about,” Darcy said, her heels clicking up the brick pathway as she took a defensive stance behind her daughter.
Gage wanted to say he was her uncle, and he was sorry for not being there for her, that he didn’t know. He didn’t fucking know. But he didn’t want to scare her, or stir up more animosity with Darcy, so he just smiled like his heart wasn’t in his throat.
“The one you were sad about?” Kylie asked Darcy, her little voice all sweet concern.
Gage looked at Darcy, watched a broad wave of emotions tear through her dark brown pools and his gut knotted. From fear to relief, even some of that sadness Tiny was hinting at, it was all there, right beneath that heart-wrenching plea she was sending his way.
Please don’t hurt her. You can hurt me, but not her.
And wasn’t that a sad state of affairs. That her first thought, with regards to him, was that he’d hurt her. Hurt them.
He hadn’t meant to back then. And sure as hell hadn’t meant to now. But it was clear that she wasn’t happy he was back. Well, he wasn’t exactly happy about his reasons for coming either, or his five-year delay, but he was there now. And he intended to make it count.
“I never meant to make you sad, Darcy.”
❀❀❀
Darcy’s heart lumbered painfully at the words she’d waited so long to hear. She’d waited five years for a moment like this, to hash out the past and finally move on. But out of the countless scenarios she’d mentally played out, never once in all that time had she imagined that her reunion with Gage would take place in front of the one person it could hurt the most.
“Honey,” she said, giving her daughter’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you go grab your dance bag so we’re not late for class.”
Kylie turned those big blue eyes Darcy’s way. “But I want to meet your friend.”
Gage swallowed so hard at the innocent comment that Darcy heard it. Felt his emotion swell and expand, until all she could process was the anxious thump of his heart. She was startled to realize it wasn’t anger or blame Gage was radiating.
But anguish and heartache.
“Maybe next time,” she said, and then sent Kylie off with a gentle pat to the bum.
“Bye, Mister.”
“Until next time, Tiny,” he said, standing, as Kylie skipped up the step, her tutu bouncing. She grabbed the handle and gave it a twist, then bumped it with her hip.
“Hey, I thought you said it was locked.”
“Nope, I said we were closed. You got to jiggle it just right.” Kylie gave one of her playful grins that, God bless her, had Gage smiling back.
Kylie ran into the house, slamming the front door behind her, the sound echoing in its finality. Gage and Darcy stood silent, each second more painful than the last, and despite the warm temperature, a cold chill swept through her body.
When she was certain they were completely alone, she said, “If you came to talk about the wedding—”
“Fuck the wedding.” He turned those intense blue eyes her direction and she felt the full force of his anger. “I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about policies and family feuds right now.”
“I never meant for it to happen like this.”
Gage didn’t move, just stood there in that still way he had, keeping his emotions in check. Even when he was angry, he considered the effect his actions could have. That’s where he differed from his twin. “That implies you had some kind of plan that didn’t include hiding her from us forever.”
“I didn’t hide her,” Darcy defended, and it was the truth. “You all shut me out. I called you, I texted.”
“You called me once,” he said harshly. “Once, Darcy. A few hours after you left Kyle standing at the altar, and I was too busy dealing with three hundred confused guests to answer. And maybe if you’d started the text with, ‘Hey, I’m sorry. By the way, I’m pregnant and it’s Kyle’s,’ I might have called you back, but again, by that point I was too deep in funeral shit and my family’s grief
to see straight.”
“A funeral your mom had me escorted out of,” she said, because wow, that still had the power to hurt. She’d long ago accepted that she wasn’t part of the Eastons anymore, but hearing it solidified things. “Escorted out like I didn’t have the right to grieve the man who I’d loved enough to want to marry.”
“But you didn’t marry him.”
“No, I didn’t, and I’m not sorry about that,” she said, and Gage stepped back as if she’d slapped him. “I’m not sorry that I walked away from a marriage that was doomed, and I’m not sorry that I chose to put Kylie’s happiness first. Someone had to. But I am sorry that I didn’t try harder to tell you about Kylie.”
At her admission, his eyes flickered to the ground, but not before she saw a flash of relief. Shoving his hands in his pockets, like he used to when he’d get nervous, he asked, “Why didn’t you? Tell me about her. I mean, after she was born.”
“I didn’t know how,” she admitted. “At first I was so busy dealing with Kyle’s death and trying to figure out how to be a single mom, and before I knew it a year had passed.”
“But it’s been four years, Pink,” he said, the sound of her nickname on his lips making her heart do a slow roll in her chest. “Four years of memories and moments, four years of Kylie not knowing that she had more family out there who wanted to love her.”
“Kylie knows she has uncles,” Darcy said. “We talk about her dad, his brothers, how we met in college, and how he always managed to turn a bad situation into a party. Her favorite story is the New Year we all got snowed in and we had cake for breakfast lunch and dinner, because it was the only thing Kyle bought at the store.”
Gage relaxed slightly, though his expression was the same anguish fueled one he’d worn at the funeral. And Darcy felt a most annoying tug to walk into his arms and talk about how much she missed those days. How much she’d missed him.
That he looked like he could use a hug too didn’t help—not that she planned on giving him one. She was afraid that once she was in his arms she’d let her guard down, hand over some of the stress. And then when he walked, and he would, she’d be right back where she’d been five years ago.
Without a word, he let out a tired breath and turned to look out at the rose garden, taking in their small cottage and the tire swing hanging from the old oak tree. Belle Mont House, with its acres of land, stunning city views, and homey feel was the perfect setting to raise a child, to instill security and confidence, and imagination.
She wondered what Gage saw when he looked out. What he’d think, when he got past the anger, of the life she’d built for herself and for Kylie.
“I get that you were hurt,” he finally said. “But how could you keep her from us? From Kyle?”
“How could I not?” she defended. “Your mother had me arrested, accused me of using Kyle for his money, then sued me for the engagement ring.” She could tell by the look on Gage’s face that he didn’t know about the last part. “Yeah, she had me served at my workplace, in the middle of a corporate event. My boss was not pleased, and I was humiliated.” She shivered at the memory. “I couldn’t bring Kylie into all of that.”
She paused, knowing what she was about to say would hurt, but knowing that the only way to start the healing on both sides was the truth. “Kyle knew I was pregnant. I told him the day I found out. It was why we sped up the wedding date.”
She watched as Gage slowly met her gaze, his own full of disbelief and unprecedented disappointment. He stared at her for a long moment, studying her as if he had something important to say, something that could make it all make sense, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.
“He wasn’t ready,” she said quietly
“He told you that?” He sounded so lost Darcy placed a hand on his arm, and this time he didn’t jerk away.
“He showed me,” she said, remembering how he’d promised to stop the cheating, be the kind of husband and dad they deserved. Only he hadn’t broken up with the intern, hadn’t stopped the late nights after, hadn’t lived up to his promise. So Darcy had walked, told him that he blew it as a husband, but he still had a chance to be a great dad, and that maybe they’d be better as co-parents than a couple.
But he’d blown that too.
“He actually said he wasn’t ready to be a dad?” Gage asked, disbelief thick.
“What kind of dad-to-be gets plastered enough to wrap his car around a tree, without a second thought of how it would affect his child?” Darcy said. “I didn’t want that legacy for Kylie. She didn’t deserve to grow up with the aftermath of all of our choices. Her happiness was my number one focus. It always will be.” She looked him dead in the eye. “Which is why I need you to leave.”
“No way.” He stepped back. “You can’t drop all of that on me and then expect to just disappear.”
“I’m not disappearing, Gage. I’m taking my daughter to dance class, and trying to avoid her walking into this.” She gestured to the aggressive stance he’d adopted. “Because that’s what mothers do.”
Chapter 5
“What part of no legal standing, did you misunderstand?”
Gage grabbed a beer from the fridge and shoved Rhett over so he could sit—on his own couch.
He took a long swallow, but it didn’t help. The sharp ache in his chest that had started the moment he’d realized Kylie was his niece, had only increased as the day had gone on. Coming home to find his brothers sprawled out on his couch, drinking his beer, and demanding answers he didn’t have, only made things worse.
He didn’t even want to acknowledge the dog cozied up on his leather recliner, wearing a Seahawks jersey and chewing on a bone twice the size of his head.
“Then let’s talk to another lawyer,” Josh, the oldest brother, and mediator of the family, said. He was dressed in his usual suit and tie, slicked up and looking like he’d just come home from dinner with the mayor—which being Portland’s most influential DA, he probably had. “A better one who will give us some actual answers.”
“I called three of the best family law attorneys in Portland,” Gage said, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Unless the parents are found unfit, they maintain full custody over the child. And since the father is deceased, full custody falls to the mother, who is Darcy.”
“So she can stop us from ever seeing our niece, stop Mom from knowing her only grandchild?” Owen, the hot head of the group asked, pouring himself two fingers of scotch. “That’s bullshit.”
“That’s the law.” Gage grabbed the bottle. “And that had better not be my good stuff.”
Owen took a sip, then leaned back, setting his socked feet on the coffee table. “You mean the one you keep hidden in the laundry room?”
“Dad gave me that.” Gage grabbed the bottle, then shoved his brother’s feet to the floor.
Owen might be the biggest of the brothers, and with his buzzed head and body art, he looked more like a bouncer than an up-scale bar owner, but he was starting to piss Gage off.
“What defines unfit? Because to me she became unfit the second she decided to keep Kyle’s kid from us,” Rhett said.
“She didn’t keep her from us. He’s even listed on the birth certificate as the father,” Gage said, now knowing the truth. He hadn’t just called a lawyer. He’d hired a PI to look into Kylie’s birth. And what he’d uncovered didn’t just leave Gage with more questions, it made him wonder what Kyle had been thinking that night.
“The hell she didn’t. Naming Kyle as the dad isn’t the same as telling us. And what about the hospital? Aren’t they obligated to contact the baby’s family?”
“They did contact Kylie’s family. According to the law, Darcy is the girl’s only family,” he said, although it sure as hell didn’t feel like that. Gage had spent less than ten minutes with her, and already she’d taken up space in his heart. Being around her was like having more time with his brother.
It would be like that for all of them. So Gage und
erstood their frustration, but he also understood that it was a group effort that had gotten them to this point.
“Well, then maybe we should pay Darcy a visit, and remind her that Kylie has more family,” Owen said.
“Right, because a united front worked so well for us in the past,” Clay said, and Gage was thankful that one of them was thinking sanely.
“Well, we have to do something,” Rhett argued, standing to pace the room. “Kyle would have wanted us in her life. She needs someone who will tell her how amazing her dad was, how he was driven and funny, and a standup guy. She needs to hear all of that.”
“Darcy is treating Kyle’s memory with respect,” Gage said, wondering why telling what he believed to be the truth felt like a betrayal to his brother.
“I’m sorry,” Rhett said. “Did you learn that in the two minutes she actually talked to you or was it when that ass of hers walked away from you, again, and you started wondering why you never got to tap that?”
“Fuck you, Rhett!” Gage’s head was spinning over his brother betraying his confidence like that. He’d confessed his feelings for Darcy in a low moment, when he thought the circle of brotherly trust was in play between the two of them. “I only went back there because you asked me to.”
And that was the truth.
Arguing with his brothers didn’t feel right. Arguing about Kyle with them? That felt toxic. But looking for someone to blame wouldn’t help anyone. Been there, done that, and they’d all lost out.
Gage wasn’t about to let that happen again.
“Kyle knew that Darcy was pregnant,” he said, having a hard time swallowing the truth. “And before you go saying that she could have lied, I already checked. Kyle paid an extra fee to have Darcy added to his medical insurance. Why would he do that if she would be automatically added when they got married?”
“She was working as a contractor back then, maybe she didn’t have insurance,” Josh speculated.
That’s what Gage had thought too. “A month before the wedding, Kyle started a college fund with ten thousand dollars in it.”
Rhett took a step back and sat heavily on the couch, the wind and fight knocked right out of him.