The old Derek Shaw would not have been a good father, and that was a fact. The question looming was whether or not the new Derek Shaw could be a good father. His daughter seemed to think so. She had welcomed him in a way that shook him to his core. He’d never felt so loved or so needed as he did whenever she turned those baby blues on him.
When they reached the fridge, Derek popped open the freezer. “Let’s see. We’ve got mint chocolate chip, vanilla, and chocolate peanut butter cup. What kind do you want?”
“I like ’em all,” she told him candidly, “but chocolate peanut butter cup’s my favorite. It’s the yummiest.”
“I agree with you.” Derek pulled the carton from the freezer and set it on the counter. “That was always my favorite flavor too.”
The amount of satisfaction Derek derived from something as simple as getting his daughter ice cream amazed him. He gave her four huge scoops in a pink bowl and sat her at the kitchen table with a spoon, watching her dig in with gusto. He was doing an excellent job of “playing” daddy, as Wynne had so snidely put it. He and Paige had already played tea party—although she had bluntly informed him he was no good at tea party because he didn’t like tea and forgot to talk with her doll—and they were getting along well.
Wynne’s trepidation was for nothing. He had proved her wrong and then some. Okay, except for the ice cream part. But that was understandable, and there was really no need for Wynne to ever find out about it, anyway.
“What do you say we play hide-and-seek after you’re done with that ice cream?” he asked.
“Yay!” Paige yelled around a mouthful. But it was enough.
As Wynne pulled up to the curb, she was aware she’d only been gone forty-five minutes instead of the hour she’d promised. But she could only mope through the bakery aisle for so long before she started to question the wisdom of leaving her daughter alone with Derek Shaw.
She grabbed her bags out of the backseat and headed inside. Upstairs, the house was seemingly deserted. “Derek,” she called out, scanning the living room for signs of him. It was empty, as was the kitchen, but there was a telltale bowl of melting ice cream on the counter. “Derek! I need to talk with you.”
Derek didn’t answer, but Paige came running down the hall toward Wynne, her bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor. Wynne sank down onto her knees, opening her arms for her customary hug. Paige ran right past her.
“I’m looking for Daddy,” she called over her shoulder. “Didja see him anywhere?”
Had the man deserted his daughter already? Where was he and why on earth was Paige skipping about the house on her own, looking for him? He was supposed to be reading her a bedtime story.
“No, sweet pea,” Wynne responded, still gritting her teeth as she rose to her feet once more. “I’m looking for Daddy too. Maybe we can find him together.”
“We’re playin’ hide ’n seek,” Paige explained, setting Wynne a little more at ease.
At least he hadn’t abandoned Paige in the apartment, then. She followed Paige back into the living room and immediately realized the sofa was pulled out much farther from the wall than it normally was. Aha.
“I don’t see him anywhere,” Wynne said loudly, walking over to the sofa and nudging it back toward the wall with her knees. It knocked into something solid and she thought she heard a soft “oof”. A smile curved her lips. “Why don’t you look in the closet, Paige? Maybe Daddy’s hiding in there.”
As Paige rushed across the room to follow Wynne’s suggestion, Wynne pushed into the sofa with more force. This time she definitely heard a noise. So she pushed some more. She hoped she was running over his arm. It would serve him right.
“Nope,” Paige reported cheerfully. “Not in the closet.”
“Hmm.” Wynne pretended to think. “Did you check in the kitchen?”
“I’ll check again,” Paige said, racing back into the kitchen.
Wynne bent over, put her hands on the middle cushion, and gave the sofa a hefty shove.
“Damn it,” grunted Derek from his hiding place. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Shh,” Wynne ordered sweetly. “You don’t want to give up your hiding place, do you, Daddy?” She pushed some more.
“Wgumpf.” There was a moment of silence, then, “Wynne, what are you trying to do, neuter me?”
“It’s not anything you don’t deserve,” she shot back, jostling the sofa into him again.
“Ouch. Damn it, Wynne.”
Paige came back into the living room then, throwing her hands up. “Can’t find him, Mama. You don’t think he went back to Californium already, do you?”
Her daughter’s face was filled with concern that stabbed at Wynne’s heart. “I know he didn’t,” she assured her. “Why don’t you come in here and look under the sofa?”
“I don’t think he’d fit, Mama,” Paige replied, looking skeptical.
Wynne squished Derek a bit more before she gave away his hiding place, then urged her daughter to look anyway. Paige sank down onto her knees and looked underneath the sofa. “I think I see something, Mama!” She scrambled to her feet and ran around the sofa, giggling when she caught sight of Derek. “Found you, Daddy!”
“Finally,” Derek groaned, unfolding himself from his clever hiding spot. “Good job, sweet pea.” He sent Wynne a meaningful glare.
She only smiled in response. “Was it a tight squeeze for you back there?”
“You might call it that,” he returned pointedly.
Paige was clinging to one of his legs, still ecstatic to have found him out. “Can we play again before bedtime, Daddy?” she demanded. “Can we?”
“Sure.” He ruffled her curls with an affectionate hand.
“But before you play another round, there’s something I’d like to talk to your father about, Paige,” Wynne said sternly. God, the word father stuck in her throat. “Why don’t you go to your room for a few minutes?”
“But—”
“No buts,” Wynne cut off her daughter’s customary protests. “Just go.”
“Okay.” Paige giggled and pressed a hand to her mouth, throwing Derek a secret look before she skipped down the hallway to her bedroom.
Wynne turned on Derek. “You gave her ice cream, didn’t you?”
He bit his lip, not answering, looking like a recalcitrant schoolboy. Okay, a sexy, grown-up version of a recalcitrant schoolboy, she amended. Not that his looks had any effect on her. Because they didn’t. In fact, the only effect he had on her was anger and she was about to indulge it.
“After I asked you not to, you intentionally went behind my back and gave Paige ice cream? You were with her for forty-five minutes and you couldn’t resist the urge to undermine my authority, could you?”
“Wait a second.” He closed in on her, standing way too close again. “I wasn’t trying to undermine your authority. I just couldn’t say no to her.”
“And that makes it okay?” She stepped away from him, unnerved.
Derek took a step closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”
“I have rules,” she informed him coolly. “Breaking them is a big deal.”
“Come on.” He raked a hand through his hair. “It was just one time.”
“You don’t know anything about parenting, so I don’t think you should be breaking my rules.”
“I don’t know anything about parenting because you kept our daughter a secret from me.” There was a hard edge to his voice. “So don’t give me that crap, Wynne, because it’s your fault. It’s your fault that Paige hasn’t had any idea who her father is for four years. If I break rules, it’s your fault because I should have had a say in making the damn rules in the first place.”
“Your breaking rules is not my fault,” she snapped, hating that what he was saying had a ring of truth. “And stop standing so close to me.”
A slow grin of realization spread across his face. “What’s the matter? Afraid you can’t resist me?” H
e moved even closer, so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.
“No.” She pushed at his shoulders—a mistake since once her hands were there, they lingered. Derek, meanwhile, didn’t budge. “Derek, just stop.”
“Stop what?” His beautiful mouth was haunting her now. If she leaned just a little bit closer, swayed forward the slightest bit…
No. She had to pull herself together. She hated this man. She wasn’t attracted to him. Even if her palms were tingling and his shoulders felt incredibly broad and strong beneath her hands. Even if he was more beautiful than any man had a right to be. Even if the title Sexiest Man Alive was the world’s biggest understatement.
There was one problem with her reasoning. She couldn’t seem to take her hands from his shoulders or keep them from sliding down across his impressively sculpted pecs. Mmm. It just felt so nice. He felt so nice, and it had been oh so long since she’d been with a man. Almost five years, to be precise.
No. She couldn’t be doing this. Shouldn’t be doing this.
“Stop,” she said again, as much to Derek as to herself.
His eyes burned into hers, blue and fiery. “I’m not doing anything.”
She knew, and that was the problem. She wanted him to be doing things—things like kissing her, for instance. Damn it, why did she have to have such a weakness for this man, of all men in the world? Why did he have this power over her?
Her hands stopped on his chest. They stared at one another. Wynne felt drawn to him as if he were physically reeling her in. It had been the same that night. It was shocking to realize that after five years, as far as Derek Shaw was concerned, Wynne wasn’t so very far removed from the naïve girl who had given him her virginity. It would be alarmingly easy to slip back into that role, back into his bed.
“Wynne, I want to kiss you,” he said.
Her breath caught in her throat and she knew he was asking permission. She also knew she had to deny him. She had Paige to think about, and Derek had more women trailing after him than he could count, she was sure. Besides, what about the “friend” he’d been living with? This could never work.
“No,” she whispered, his lips just a breath away from hers. It took every effort within her not to lean into him and taste that gorgeous mouth. She pulled away. “I can’t.”
Derek stepped back and she was intensely aware of his hot stare raking over her body. “You’re right. It wouldn’t be a good idea if you and I got involved again. But we’re going to have to work things out between us.”
What did he mean it wouldn’t be a good idea if they got involved again? Of course she agreed, but it bothered her that he had decided as much so quickly. She shook her head. God, what was she thinking? Was she going crazy?
Think, she ordered herself. Remember how much you hate him, how angry you are with him. Why was she angry with him, anyway? Oh yes, the rule breaking.
“We do have to work things out between us,” she agreed, her mantle of anger comfortably returning to her. “And while we’re doing it, let’s talk about you ignoring my rules.”
“I didn’t ignore all of your rules. Just the ice-cream one.”
“Breaking one rule is still breaking a rule.”
“Some rules are meant to be broken.”
She threw up her hands. “And this is the role model for my daughter?”
Derek’s expression turned grim. “Look, Wynne, I’ll be the first to admit I made a hell of a lot of mistakes in my life. When you first met me, I was hooked on prescription painkillers and I was mixing them with alcohol. I’ve been in and out of rehab more times than I even want to count. But I’m trying to become a better man. I’ve been sober for over a year, and I intend to keep it that way.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked softly, moved by his admission.
“Because I want you to know that I will be a good father to Paige,” he said simply. “I can’t change the past, but I can promise you that I’ll do my best in the future.”
She believed him. God help her, she did. Wynne had no reason to trust him, to believe he would even be capable of staying clean after so many years of addiction, but she could see the determination in his eyes. Maybe he could be a good father to Paige. She was almost afraid, both for Paige’s sake and for her own, to trust that he could. But a glimmer of hope began to shine within her.
“Mama?” Paige’s voice interrupted the moment.
Wynne turned, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear, and offered her daughter a bright smile. “Hey, sweet pea.”
“Can Daddy stay over tonight?” Paige asked innocently.
Wynne almost swallowed her tongue. “No,” she managed when she had sufficiently recovered. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
“Why not?” her daughter asked, looking crestfallen.
“Because Daddy doesn’t live here and we don’t have a bed for him,” Wynne explained.
“Oh.” Paige frowned. “But I don’t want him to go back to Californium yet.”
“I’m not going back to California,” Derek broke in gently, going to Paige and picking her up in his arms. “In fact, I’m going to look for a place to stay around here so we can see each other every day. How does that sound?”
Paige squealed happily in response and threw her arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his cheek.
His pronouncement bemused Wynne but she bit her tongue to keep from remonstrating him again in front of Paige. He was going to look for a place to live right here in Atlantic? Just to be with Paige? She certainly hadn’t expected that much of him, and she didn’t even know she believed him. She believed that he wanted to try to be a good father, but she also knew that the lure of stardom would more than likely pull him back into the same dangerous web he’d been caught in so many times before. Still, she hoped for his sake and for her daughter’s sake that he wasn’t making promises he was doomed to break.
A week had passed since Derek had learned he was a father and he thought he was adjusting to the role very well. He spent every day with Paige while Wynne worked at the flower shop. Wynne, he knew, had initially been dubious about his suggestion, but she seemed to trust him more and more.
He couldn’t recall a happier time in his life. He was so happy, in fact, that when his iPhone rang and the screen read his almost-ex-wife’s name, he even answered it.
Big mistake, as it turned out.
“Derek, where are you?” Her voice was so shrill he held the phone an inch from his ear for protection. “I’ve been trying to reach you for months. Your agent doesn’t even know where you are. I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m in Atlantic,” he told her with a sigh. Damn it, what had he been thinking? He was on his way to Wynne’s to pick Paige up to go ice skating. The last thing he needed was the unnecessary torture of having to listen to Trina.
“Are you drunk?” She sounded suspicious.
“No.” He was instantly annoyed. “Will you stop asking me that every time you call me? I’ve been sober for a year, Trina.”
“Well when you don’t answer any of my phone calls, what do you expect me to think, Derek? I thought you drank yourself into a stupor and crawled into a gutter somewhere.”
She had such a high opinion of him. It was flattering, really.
“I’m fine, thanks for your concern,” he managed wryly. “Now what the hell do you want? I’m busy.”
“Billy and I split up,” she said, sounding suddenly as if she was about to cry.
The last thing he wanted was to have her crying on the phone. It was so damn difficult to hang up on a weeping woman.
“I’m sorry to hear that. But what does that have to do with me?”
“I realized that I don’t love him.” She sniffed. “You’re the one I love, Derek. I want us to get back together.”
Trina had claimed to be head over heels for Billy Dillane, a young, successful actor who played mostly muscle-bound roles in action flicks. Trina had officially left Derek fo
r Billy while Derek had been in rehab. Now she wanted to get back together?
Derek almost dropped the phone. “Trina, we’ve been split for over a year. Our divorce is almost finalized. What the hell do you mean you want us to get back together?”
“I’m still in love with you.” Her voice sounded plaintive now. “Can you forgive me for Billy?”
“No, frankly, I can’t,” he said honestly. “When I needed you most, you left me for another man. I can’t just forget that.”
“Do I have to beg you?”
God, please no.
“No.” He paused. “Trina, I have to tell you something.” Best to tell her about Paige before the tabloids got wind of it first, he reasoned. He owed her that much, at least. “I have a daughter.”
“What?” she screeched.
Derek relayed the story to her—the abridged version. “So my coming back to LA is out of the question.”
“You fell for that without a paternity test?” Trina scoffed. “Derek, you should know that everyone has fake kids coming out of the woodwork. There’s always going to be some lowlife skank out there who tries to pawn off her kid on someone famous for a payoff. Didn’t you learn anything from Justin Bieber? I can’t believe you just swallowed that story.”
“I don’t need a paternity test,” he said, certain of it. “Wynne isn’t a lowlife.”
“Wait a second.” Trina’s voice grew sharp. “How old is this kid?”
“Four.” Derek could practically hear the gears whirring in her head.
“You got her pregnant while we were filming Stealing Annabelle?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“You bastard! We became a couple during that movie and you were messing around with some local bimbo?”
“She’s not a local bimbo,” Derek said defensively. Wynne didn’t fit the bimbo profile, not for a millisecond.
“What, are you sleeping with her again?”
“No.” Not that he wouldn’t like to be sleeping with her, of course, despite their differences. If the timing was right, that is. He had to admit Wynne was a good mother after watching her in action. He couldn’t fault her for wanting to protect Paige from his reputation and the glare of the media, even if he was angry with her for depriving him of his daughter.
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