A SEAL's Secret Baby

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A SEAL's Secret Baby Page 7

by Laura Marie Altom


  “Gotcha.” With a focused expression, he turned to the task, as serious as if preparing for a top secret mission. Brows knitted, biting his lower lip, he guided Pia’s spoon with pinpoint precision.

  Ellie couldn’t help but laugh.

  “What?” He glanced in her direction. “I haven’t spilled a drop.”

  “That’s why it’s funny. It’s okay to have fun.”

  “Now I’m confused.” He leaned back in his chair. “You told me not to get it on her.”

  Pia started to fuss.

  “Like this.” Ellie covered his hand with hers, guiding it toward the girl’s open mouth. A little of the broth dribbled on the high chair’s plastic tray, but in the time Deacon had taken to manage one perfect spoonful, Ellie worked in three.

  What she hadn’t counted on was another rush of awareness stemming from touching him. Cheeks flushed, she retreated to her own side of the table, noting, “Too much spice in the soup.”

  Spooning a bite from his bowl, Deacon said, “Tastes just right to me.”

  Once Pia had eaten her fill, and started happily feeding herself oyster crackers, Ellie said, “Our talk last night has been on my mind all day.”

  Meeting her gaze, he said, “Me, too. I said too much. Dumping on you.”

  “Not at all.” She ached for what he’d been through. “I’m honored you trusted me enough to share.”

  * * *

  “IF YOU FOLD THAT FAST every day I’m going to have to give you a raise.” Ada, dressed in white wool Chanel, sat at the register, flipping through Vogue. “What—or should I ask, who—has you so driven?”

  “Well…” It was on the tip of Ellie’s tongue to tell her friend morning vitamins had her so peppy, but she wasn’t in the mood for games. “Deacon came over last night.”

  “Nice.” Ada tossed her magazine on the glass checkout counter. “Or is this an anger-fueled energy burst?”

  “That’s just it.” Ellie folded colorful designer T-shirts even faster. “We actually had a fun time. I made soup, and for at least a few bites he fed Pia.”

  “Why only a few bites?”

  “He was too slow, struggling to do a perfect job. But in retrospect, my even saying that makes me out to be a serious bitch. I was the one wanting Pia to have her dad in her life, but now that she does, I’m constantly berating him even though he’s trying so hard. Even worse, whenever he so much as accidentally brushes against me, I feel all tingly from my belly to my toes. What do I do with that? Deacon was Tom’s best friend. There can’t ever be romance between us again.”

  Ada took a few seconds to mull that over. “Why?”

  “Seriously?” Ellie abandoned her task in favor of collapsing in the nearest armchair. “The guilt of even finding him attractive is eating me alive.”

  “Let’s break this down.” Leaving the register, Ada took the seat beside Ellie. “Kinda hard to deny the guy is beyond sexy. Another fact you’re ignoring is that even though Tom died, you’re very much alive. Do you actually believe he’d wish you to be alone forever, mourning the loss of what you two shared?”

  * * *

  ONE WEEK INTO OCTOBER, Deacon showed up at the library where Ellie attended her weekly widow support group. They’d worked out a routine where he took Pia for ice cream, or strolling in the mall for an hour, and then they met up again. An hour was barely enough time to get the child into her car seat. No way did it allow for real bonding. But at this point in his short-lived parenting career, did he even know what that meant?

  “Sorry we’re late.” Ellie ran up to where he sat on his bike. The wind carried a hint of her flowery perfume and an icy nip. Pia was bundled up to her nose. “This one’s been cranky. I’m afraid she’s coming down with a cold.”

  “Have you taken her to a doctor?”

  “Not yet.”

  Ellie passed Pia to him. The little girl’s weight felt so good in his arms, and being around Ellie irrationally made his spirit soar. Lord, how he looked forward to Thursdays.

  “So far, she’s just had sniffles and a slight cough. No fever.”

  “Still…”

  “She’s fine.” After handing him her car keys—Deacon couldn’t exactly transport a toddler on his bike—she said, “Last week, a friend in my group, Mary, asked me to grab a coffee with her after our session. Would you be okay watching Pia for two hours?”

  “Sure.” Nothing would make him happier.

  Ellie hugged her daughter, then hurried into the warmth of the Victorian-style library.

  He was fastening Pia’s safety harness when it occurred to Deacon that the transition would’ve been smoother if he’d just met Ellie at her car. The lot was full, so she hadn’t been able to park beside him.

  “See, peanut?” he said to his little girl. “I’ve got to get a handle on more of these kinds of details. That way, you wouldn’t have had to come out into the cold.”

  When he left her to get behind the wheel, she cried.

  “There’s no crying on Pia and Daddy’s fun night.” Reaching into the backseat, he jiggled her boot-covered foot.

  Apparently not caring, she cried all the harder.

  Swell.

  Having extra time, Deacon headed for a place he’d carefully spent his whole life avoiding—Wacky Willie’s Pizza. He’d seen ads and the place looked mortifying. But for kids, he supposed it was playtime Mecca.

  Even the parking was insane, and Deacon finally found a spot that felt like a mile from the front door. Though he carefully bundled Pia to protect her from the wind, she was still crying.

  “Hey,” he said, bouncing her in his arms, “do you have any idea where we’re going? Kid heaven.”

  “Mommeee!” She cried so hard snot ran from her nose, and Deacon had forgotten the diaper bag that Ellie had told him to never be without.

  “Hold on, peanut…” He jogged with her back to the car, found tissue in the bag, cleaned up Pia’s nose, then started their mission anew.

  While he stood in line for pizza, Pia was still weepy.

  He removed her coat, mittens, scarf and hat, shoving them all in the magic bag. Who knew kids carried as much gear as any SEAL? “That better?”

  She shook her head, then dropped her head on his shoulder. Melted didn’t begin to describe what Pia resting on him did to his heart. “Mommy…”

  “I know, sweetie. We’ll see her soon. Right now, you’re going to play with Daddy, okay?” Whenever he was with her, he worked in his official title, in the hopes of her one day using it. It sounded good. He just selfishly wished she’d occasionally pine for him the way she did Ellie. “Daddy’s fun.”

  By the time Deacon bought a large Extreminater pizza, sodas and a sackful of game tokens, he was already worn-out. Between blasting pop music, screeching kids of all ages and a scent vaguely reminiscent of burned cheese, frosting and dirty diapers, he’d learned Wacky Willie’s should be the go-to punishment for terrorists.

  He found an empty spot, set down the food tray, then put Pia in the chair beside his. Only her head barely reached the top of the table. And she was still sniffling.

  Not seeing any high chairs, he just went with the awkward setup. “Look.” He waved a small slice of pizza in front of her. “You love this stuff, don’t you?”

  She grabbed it from him, instantly fisting it into a gooey mess.

  “Deacon?”

  “Oh, hello, sir.” He looked up to see Commander Duncan and his wife with two of their freckled grandkids in tow. From base picnics, Deacon knew them to be school-aged.

  “Reginald, Franklin,” the commander said, “this is one of my finest men, Chief Petty Officer Deacon Murphy. He’s a SEAL.”

  “Whoa! Can I have your autograph?” the taller of the two asked.

  “Um, SEALs really don’t do that,”
Deacon said, trying to keep Pia upright and contain her wadded pizza. “But I’ll bet your grandfather would let you come on base and play with some of our toys. We’ve got really good ones.”

  “That’d be awesome!” The boys gave each other high fives.

  “Deacon? Isn’t that little Pia Hilliard?” Paula asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I watch her for Ellie on Thursday nights.”

  Her expression almost hopeful, the flawlessly dressed woman gazed at him. “Are you two an item?”

  “No,” he replied with an exaggerated shake of his head. “I’m just helping a friend.”

  “That’s awfully sweet of you.” Nodding to Pia, she said, “You do know they have booster seats for children Pia’s age? Makes it much easier for you to manage a wriggling toddler. And for future reference, most children prefer plain cheese pizza.”

  “Now, Mother.” The commander came to Deacon’s aid. “My boy here is capable of taking out an entire camp of terrorists on his own. He shouldn’t also be expected to know the finer points of parenting, especially for a child who doesn’t even belong to him.”

  * * *

  “HAVE FUN?” Ellie asked when Deacon pulled the car up in front of the library.

  “Not sure I’d go that far,” he admitted, unfastening his seat belt. “And I apologize for Pia being such a mess. I did the best I could, cleaning her with wipes, but the pizza in her hair won’t come out.”

  “Hmm…” Ellie walked around to Pia’s side of the car, opening the door to inspect her child. Face and hair greasy, reeking of peppers and onions… She had never seen her daughter in such a state. “Where did you two go?”

  “Wacky Willie’s, aka hell.”

  “Mommeee!”

  Ellie reached for Pia. “I know, pumpkin. You’re tired, huh?” To Deacon, she asked, “Where are her mittens? It’s below freezing.”

  “Probably in the diaper bag.”

  “Which is where?” Ellie always kept it on the floor in front of Pia’s seat.

  Deacon slapped his forehead. “I grabbed her coat and scarf out of it, but must’ve left the bag under our table. I was kind of distracted.”

  “By what?” Closing the rear door, Ellie met Deacon on the driver’s side.

  “The base commander and his wife showed up with their grandkids. Paula straight-out asked if we’re dating.”

  Groaning, Ellie covered her face with her free hand. “I’m not ready for this. You know how gossipy this town is. See? This is exactly the kind of thing I’ve been hoping to avoid.”

  “That’s all well and good, but the truth would’ve shut her up.”

  Nausea nearly doubled Ellie over. Of course, Deacon was right. Full disclosure would’ve allowed him to admit he was Pia’s father. But that also would’ve led to a whole new set of issues—explaining that Pia’s conception had occurred before Ellie had even met Tom. But did anyone aside from Helen and John honestly need that much information?

  His hand on her back, Deacon asked, “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” She straightened. “Maybe.” She laughed. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “I know the feeling, but somehow, everything’s going to be okay. We haven’t done anything wrong. And the more I’m with Pia, the more everything feels right.”

  “I’m glad,” Ellie managed to answer with a shaky sigh. And she was. Having lost Tom, Pia deserved every shred of happiness she could get. And Deacon deserved to get to know his daughter after missing out on so much of her life because of Ellie’s cowardice. As for herself, Ellie more often than not felt nothing but disgust for the way she’d continually botched the whole situation.

  “Sorry I forgot the diaper bag. I’ll run to Willie’s to get Pia’s stuff, then drop it by the house.”

  “That’d be great. Thanks.” Even better would be if he stuck around to share Pia’s bathtime.

  * * *

  AFTER DEACON LEFT Pia’s diaper bag—declining Ellie’s invitation to stay, on the grounds that he and Garrett had plans—she knelt in front of the tub while scrubbing assorted pizza toppings from their daughter’s hair.

  Plans? Why was she suddenly consumed by thoughts of what those might entail? Drinking? Dancing? Body shots with hot young things? Where Deacon was concerned, Ellie’s imagination grew fertile, as did jealousy she had no right to feel.

  “Hope you at least had fun while getting this dirty.”

  Pia patted the bubbles and squealed.

  “Wish you were old enough to tell me what you and your dad talk about.” Ellie began rinsing no-tear shampoo from Pia’s hair. “When I was your age, I suppose I saw my father. I don’t remember. Mom didn’t start drinking heavily until I was in third grade.” She used a plastic cup to rinse, smoothing Pia’s hair as she worked. “I remember because we had a huge Christmas program and your mommy was the star—literally.” Ellie laughed. “My class made a big holiday tree and I got to stand at the very top. There was one song about a cold winter wind and I had to sway.” Her throat tightened. “I was on top of a ladder, behind risers. Some kids wore green to be branches, and some wore red to be ornaments. I was the only one wearing yellow. Our teacher held the ladder while I swayed—you know, to make sure I didn’t fall. But out in the audience, my mom couldn’t see that. I guess—” she wagged Pia’s pink duck “—I should be flattered she cared, but right in the middle of the song, my mom jumped out of her seat, stumbled past all the other kids’ parents, climbed up onto the stage and then up the risers. At the top, she grabbed me, tossing me over her shoulder and yelling at my teacher about how she shouldn’t have put me in danger.”

  Ellie had been old enough to realize everyone in that gymnasium was staring. The next morning, she had gone to a meeting with the counselor and her mom. Her mother had been sober and apologetic, explaining how confused she’d been on prescription cough syrup.

  She had been a master at disguising her alcohol usage.

  Ellie lost count of how many times school officials had asked if her mom was drinking, but Ellie always covered for her, knowing the alternative was foster care.

  “Sorry to be a Debbie Downer during what’s usually a fun time for us.” At least Ellie’s mind was temporarily off Deacon.

  Pia had ignored Ellie’s speech, intent on scooping bubbles into measuring cups.

  “With Halloween coming, we’ll be having lots of fun. You like fun, don’t you?”

  Pia grinned. “Daddy fun! Daddy fun!”

  As much as Ellie hated to admit it, she had to agree. Which was a problem, considering how she was all over the map emotionally. Scared of Helen and John never speaking to her again once they learned Pia wasn’t theirs. Guilt-ridden over wishing she’d never told Deacon the truth. Ashamed by the fact that every time he was near, her body hummed with attraction.

  Chapter Seven

  Halloween night, while Tom’s parents and dozens of friends and neighbors played with Pia, Ellie helped herself to more vampire punch. Though she’d been worried about John and Helen thinking it odd that Deacon wanted to join them, they’d been gracious, adopting a more-the-merrier attitude.

  “Help me with a refill?” Deacon held out his black plastic goblet.

  “Sure,” Ellie said over blaring, kid-friendly monster tunes, the whole while praying he didn’t notice the silver ladle trembling in her hand. “Having fun?”

  “Oddly enough, yeah.” His gorgeous smile made her stomach flip.

  With her dressed as Red Riding Hood and him as a fireman, they stood side by side at the deck railing, staring out at the dark ocean view.

  The night was clear, and with Pia off playing with friends, the stars and moon provided a far more romantic backdrop than Ellie would’ve liked. Her whole side nearest Deacon tingled, and she vascillated between enjoying the sensation and wishing it would stop.


  Deacon sipped his punch. “This place is awesome.”

  “Agreed.” Tom’s dad had made a considerable fortune in stocks and was now retired. When Tom was stationed in Virginia Beach, his parents had moved, too. Though the modern home was mostly made of glass, Helen had enough antiques mixed into her eclectic decor that her high-end Halloween decorations managed to look both elegant and festive. “Pia’s loving this.”

  “I’m getting a kick out of seeing her interact with other kids. Did you see her face when Austin tried scaring her?”

  “Yes.” Ellie laughed. “But she wasn’t having it. I caught myself holding my breath, waiting for her to cry, but she didn’t back down.”

  “Yep.” Deacon puffed out his chest. “That’s the SEAL in her.”

  “Stop!” Ellie gave him a playful pummel, then abruptly stopped. What was she doing? To anyone viewing them, they must look like a couple flirting!

  “You know it’s true.” When he continued their fun by nudging her side, she scooted away a good six inches.

  “Maybe so, but I thank my stars every day that I had a girl, and not a boy who wants to follow in his father’s footsteps.”

  “Aw, don’t say that.” Deacon’s tone had sobered. “Sure, being a SEAL is dangerous, but a lot more than sweat went into earning my Trident. I learned about honor and trust and never giving up. Pia’s going to learn all of that up front—from you and me.”

  “I—I hope so.” Damn her racing pulse. What was it about Deacon vowing to share in teaching good values that made Ellie’s knees weak and stomach flutter? Then he had to go and meet her gaze, holding it as if to seal an unspoken promise to always do right by their girl.

  Hastily dropping her gaze, Ellie reminded herself how much she loved John and Helen—far more than she ever had her own parents. Once the Hilliards learned that their son had had nothing to do with Pia’s DNA, would they drop Ellie and her daughter cold? The thought terrified Ellie—so much that to stop her punch from spilling she held her quaking goblet with both hands.

  “You all right?”

  She should’ve known nothing escaped Deacon. After setting his own drink on the railing, he curved his hands over hers. His touch was warm and solid and entirely too reassuring—a horrible development, considering her need to stay away. “You’re shaking.”

 

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