Unexpected Odds (Unexpected Arrivals #5)

by Kaylee Ryan

  “Kent, well, Kenton is my full name.” He runs his thumb across my cheek as my heart races. “You would call me Kenton if you were mad at me.” He smiles softly, the gesture lighting up his face.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper.

  “What?” His shoulders stiffen, but his dark eyes still bore into mine.

  “That’s why she hated it.”

  “Who hated what, baby?” His tone is soft, dare I say loving? It’s unexpected, but not unwelcome. The way he looks at me, the reverence in his voice, I can feel it deep inside that I was important to him. That he was important to me. I just wish I could remember.

  “My mother. She hated the name, but it was my choice. The one thing I could control. I didn’t let her stop me.”

  “Delaney, what name? What are you talking about?”

  I swallow hard as I prepare to drop a bomb on him. I’m sure he assumes with the accident that things worked out how he wanted them to. Then again, if what he’s saying is true. He doesn’t know. I don’t know what to believe, but I do know it’s him. I might not fully remember, but I see him in my dreams, and she’s his spitting image. “My daughter. My mother hates her name. To this day, she still complains.”

  “Your daughter?” he asks, swallowing hard.

  I nod.

  “What’s her name, Delaney?” The hand that’s not cupping my cheek grips my hip, tethering me to him.

  “Kendrix. Her name is Kendrix.”

  He nods. “How old is she?”

  “She’ll be five in March.” I watch as he processes what I’m telling him. “She looks like you.”

  His face goes pale. Even behind his beard, I can see it. “Is she mine?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know.” I hate that I can’t remember. What I do know is that the similarities between the two are uncanny.

  “C-Can I see her? I mean, do you have a picture of her?” His gaze penetrates mine as he swallows hard, waiting for my reply. His jaw is still, and his eyes dark—almost black with the storm of emotions raging inside him.

  I can see it. He’s worked the time out in his head. He knows as well as I do that my daughter is also his. I just wish I could remember. And what about my mom? The story she told me is nothing like what this handsome stranger—well, I guess he’s not a stranger—is telling me. Is he lying? Did she lie to me? I don’t know. I don’t see the harm in showing him her picture. It will get a reaction out of him. He can see what I see and we’ll have to take it from there. I’m used to that. My life is one big “we’ll take it from here.” I hate there are these huge missing pieces of my past that I can’t put together. Maybe Kenton will be my missing piece? Maybe he can help me remember?

  Nodding, I reach for my phone in my back pocket. Unlocking the screen, I scroll through my pictures until I find one of just her and me. Turning the phone toward him, I show him the picture of Kendrix and me the day I left to come here. “She’s with my mom. She convinced me to let her stay with her so I could get everything on track with the attorney and the construction crew. Well, you.” I offer him a smile. My mother was adamant that Kendrix stayed with her, and it wasn’t worth the fight. I didn’t know the condition of the house. But to hear Mom tell it, it was in dire straits. I wanted to check it out before I brought my daughter here. Is this why, though? The real reason? Was she afraid Kenton would see her? That he would recognize himself in her?

  “She has your eyes,” he says, not tearing away from the image on the screen. “Big blue eyes just like her mamma.”

  “And black hair,” I state the obvious. “A trait she had to have gotten from her father.”

  “Yo, Kent, let’s go!” one of the guys yells out.

  He sighs heavily. “We need to talk. I have so many questions. I don’t know what this means, but she looks like me. Like us. If I’m her father, I want to be in her life. I just— Have dinner with me tonight?” He pulls his eyes from my phone to look at me. “I feel it deep in here”—he taps my hand that is still resting on his chest over his heart—“that she’s mine, Laney.” He shortens my name and it sparks something inside me. No one calls me Laney, yet it’s so familiar. I get this feeling of déjà vu every time he does it. “I want her. I want both of you. I know you don’t remember us, but I do. We have to talk about this.” His voice is pleading and stern at the same time.

  He’s not going to back down and honestly, I don’t want him to. I can’t explain it, but I feel connected to him, and not just because my body is plastered against his. It’s more than that.

  Deeper.

  “Okay.” I don’t even hesitate. Something tells me that this man is a huge missing link to my life, to my daughter’s life. I want to hear his side. I have my mother’s side, her version of what happened before my accident. Now I want his. I can only hope that eventually, it will all come back to me, and I will learn the truth. Although, something tells me Kenton is a straight shooter. I feel as though I can trust him. But… I can trust my mother too, right? At least one would think so. I do remember growing up, everything until college, and my mom has always been a control freak. That’s a memory that just came back a few months ago, but this isn’t something I would put past her. I didn’t have a choice but to believe her. I didn’t have a name or a location or anything else to go off of.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Okay,” I say again, because what else is there to say? From the look on his face, he didn’t know about me being pregnant, if he is actually the father, but there are too many similarities for him not to be. Not to mention, something in my gut tells me he is. I’ve learned to trust that instinct since I don’t have the memories to back me up.

  He takes me by surprise when he leans in and presses a tender kiss to my forehead. Stepping back, his thumbs fly across the screen of my phone before he hands it back to me. “I added my number and texted myself that picture.” He looks down at the floor for three heartbeats exactly. I know because I counted before he looks up under long lashes at me. “She’s mine, Delaney. I can feel it. I want—” He stops and swallows hard. “I’ll pick you up at seven.” Giving my hip a gentle squeeze, he drops his hand and steps back. He walks backward for several steps before turning and walking out the door.

  I was dreading facing him, explaining the story of my accident yet again. It’s the same story I’ve had to tell more times than I can count over the years. However, this time, this time the story had a different ending. One that’s muddled with what I see in his eyes and the conviction in his voice, versus what I’ve always been told. The two are fighting against one another like oil and water.

  I’m glad we’re getting together tonight. I have so many unanswered questions, as I’m sure he does as well. I debate on calling my mother and calling her out on all of this, but I fight it. I’m going to wait and see how tonight goes. Hear his side of things and try to piece them together. Seems like that’s all I’ve been doing these last five years—piecing small bits of information—yet nothing seems complete. At least it didn’t. Awareness rushes through me. This trip might be more than just overseeing renovations. Maybe I’ll find my past and combine it with my future.

  What are the odds?

  Chapter 4

  Kent

  The rest of the day, I walk around in a haze. The guys pretty much leave me alone and let me work out all this shit bouncing around in my head. I look for her around every corner and have to fight with myself to not go in search of her. I’ve pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the picture of her daughter what feels like a thousand times.

  That last night, the night I stood her up when she wanted to talk to me, I thought she wanted more, but maybe it was more than I ever could have imagined. Maybe she was going to tell me she was pregnant. That I was going to be a father. Her daughter looks like me, but with Delaney’s blue eyes. I’ve been over it and over it in my mind, and the timeline fits. She’s mine. I feel it deep in my bones. This little girl is my daughter. A daughter I’ve been away from the las
t almost five years, a daughter I never knew about, who doesn’t know me.

  I fucking hate it.

  Tossing my tools into one of the crates, I wince at the noise. I’ve been tossing things around all day, being rougher than I should, but I’m mad. I’m beyond mad. I’m pissed, livid, infuriated, and I don’t know what to think about all of this. If what she told me is true, she doesn’t remember me. And I believe her. The connection we had, even though I refused to name it at the time, was intense, and no way could she hide that I know her intimately. Every inch of her body has been caressed by my hands, by my tongue. The time we spent together is not something that you can fake not remembering.

  Another swarm of anger courses through me. She was hurt, in a hospital bed, and I wasn’t with her. I would have been there. Sure, I was an idiot, but if she needed me, if I had known, I would have been by her side every step of the way.

  And the baby… I missed it all. I missed Delaney growing round with my child, watching her body change, being there the moment Kendrix took her first breath. Those are moments I’ll never get back.

  “What did that hammer do to you?” Tyler asks.

  I glare at him because I’m not in the mood for their shit. I need to get out of this house, get home, shower, and come back to pick her up. Hell, I’m tempted to have her ride to the shop with me to get my truck and take her straight to my place. The only thing stopping me is that she deserves better. She might not remember that night, the night I stood her up, but I do. I’m no longer that guy, and I’ll show her what she means to me, even if she can’t remember. Maybe one day she will and she’ll know I’ve changed. I’m no longer afraid of what I feel for her. Hell, I don’t even really know what that is.

  Not this new version of her.

  “We done here?” I ask him.

  “Yeah, this is the last box.” He lifts it into his arms and walks out the door.

  Before I can stop myself, I jog to the kitchen. I saw her go in there about an hour ago and I’ve been watching for her to come back out. I stand in the doorway and watch as she dips out cookie dough onto a baking sheet. “We’re heading out,” I say, taking a step into the room.

  “Oh, um, thanks.” She looks down at the scoop in her hands then back up at me and grins. “I felt like baking.”

  “I can see that. I’ll be back at seven, maybe a little before.”

  “Great. Sure, that’s great,” she says, and I see her nerves shining through. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one.

  “I’ll be here.” My voice holds conviction. She doesn’t realize that the last time I promised her I would be somewhere, I flaked out on her. Not this time. Never again in fact.

  “I’ll be ready.” A slight blush coats her cheeks, and I have to force my feet to stay rooted to where I’m standing when all I really want to do is kiss the hell out of her. It’s been too long since I’ve had my lips on hers. I know that’s my own fault. But in a way, I wonder what would have happened if I had shown up that night. Would she still have been in that accident? Would her mom still have fed me some bullshit line about her moving on? Would I have so easily accepted that as our fate? I’d like to think not, but we can’t change the past.

  “See you soon.” My voice is husky as I force myself to turn and leave her standing looking sexy as hell in her kitchen.

  “What’s up, Kent?” Ridge asks. He and I are in his truck, while Seth, Mark, and Tyler are in the other company truck.

  “She has a kid.”

  “Yours?”

  “The timeline fits.”

  “What does she say about it?”

  “It’s fucked up, man. She was in an accident and has amnesia or some shit. It’s almost too fucking crazy to be real, but I know her, and she can’t fake this. We were too close for too long.”

  “Why didn’t you ever talk about her?”

  “I was an idiot,” I mumble, turning to look out the window. There is no other reason or excuse other than I was a complete idiot. I didn’t realize what I had until she was gone. No, that’s not true. I knew what I had, but I was too chicken shit to admit my feelings. I fucked up, plain and simple.

  “There’s more to this story.”

  I nod. “Yeah, but I’m processing. Hell, I’m not even sure I know the half of it. I’m picking her up at seven and taking her back to my place so we can talk.”

  “Anything I can do?” he asks.

  “No. I have to deal with this shit, and we have to work it out on our own. I don’t know where to even start.” My phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see a message from my mom asking me if I want to come over for dinner.

  Me: Sorry, have plans. This weekend?

  Mom: Sure. Dad says hi.

  Me: Tell him hi. Love you.

  I close out of her message, not waiting for her reply, and see the one right below it. The one I sent myself from Delaney’s phone. “Actually,” I say to Ridge as we pull into the shop parking lot. “Take a look.” I open the message and hold the phone up for him.

  He stares at it for a long time, before his eyes move away from the phone to focus on me. “Congratulations, brother. She looks just like you.”

  “The eyes. She has Delaney’s eyes.”

  “You’re going to still test to make sure, right?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I mean, we have to at this point. She can’t remember our time together, but I do.” I remember every damn second. “I need to prove it to both of us, and if she is mine, which I think she is, the timeline just fits, I want to get to know her.”

  “We’ve got your back. Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks. I haven’t told the guys. Can we just… keep this between us at least until after tonight? She and I need to talk about this. We barely touched the surface earlier, and my brain is a jumbled mess. There is so much that’s happened. It doesn’t seem real.”

  “Sure thing,” he answers just as Seth knocks on his window, making a goofy face and laughing as he jogs to his truck to start it. “How does Mara put up with him?” Ridge asks, laughing.

  “She’s a saint.” With that, I head to my own truck to rush home and get ready.

  “Come on in and have a seat.” I push open the front door to my condo and hold it open for her. “Make yourself at home,” I say, taking her coat and hanging both hers and mine on the hook just by the door.

  “It’s nice.”

  “You’ve been here before,” I tell her.

  “I have?” Her brow furrows as if she’s trying to recall the memory.

  “Yeah, we used to spend a lot of time here together.”

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could remember.”

  Damn, that cuts to the bone. “Let’s start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

  “I don’t know you.”

  I nod. “I know you don’t remember me, but we were close. Really close, and, Delaney, I’m pretty sure that your daughter is our daughter. I think Kendrix is mine. I’ve run the dates in my head a thousand times today. The timeline fits.”

  “We were sleeping together?” she asks.

  “Yeah, we had been for a couple of years.”

  She scoots closer to her end of the couch, away from me. “Why should I believe you?”

  I rack my brain for some kind of proof, of some sort of evidence I can show her, and that’s when it hits me. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scroll to the one photo I allowed myself to keep all these years. “This,” I say, handing her my phone. “This photo was taken the day before you left for college after your break. I was supposed to meet you later that night. We got a room at a bed and breakfast. We didn’t need to because we had my place, but you said it would be romantic. I agreed. We took this picture then. That was the last time I saw you.”

  “My accident, it was in California.” I can hear the confusion in her voice as she tries to piece all of this, piece me into her life.

  “Yeah.” I swallow hard. “I was late. Really late, like over four hours. When I got to the bed and
breakfast, you had already checked out.”

  “Why were you late?”

  “I fucked up. I was reeling from what you made me feel. I was upset that you were going back to school. I was going to miss you and didn’t know how to handle that.”

  “How long did we… date?”

  “We weren’t exclusive,” I admit. I want to tell her that we were madly in love and that we should ride off into the sunset, but I have a feeling she’s been lied to way too much these past few years. I will never be anything but honest with her. “For about two years, every time you came home for break or for the summer, we were together.”

  “But we weren’t official? We weren’t dating?”

  “No.”

  “Did you want to?”

  “Yes. However, at the time I didn’t admit that to you or myself.”

  “What did we do? When we were together?”

  “Movies, dinner. We spent a lot of time out at the lake just sitting in the back of my truck. Sleeping under the stars, skinny dipping a time or two.” I smile, trying to lighten the mood, and the load I’m sure that’s sitting on her shoulders, just as it is mine. This is a lot to process.

  “We were sleeping together?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long?”

  “From the night we first met.” She nods, accepting my answer. This has to be hard for her. I wait patiently, giving her time to catalogue what I’ve said.

  “How did we meet?”

  “I was with the guys at Bottom’s Up. That’s a local bar here in town. You were home on summer break. Something I learned you did every year. It was the summer before your third year of college. I don’t know how I missed seeing you before then. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were someone I wanted to spend time with.”

  “So, you wanted to sleep with me?” The corner of her mouth tilts into a grin.