by Lizzie Shane
His voice seemed to echo and Rachel glanced nervously at the table beside them—the couple there had been ignoring them earlier, but they definitely had their attention now. She pitched her own voice low. “You were married.”
“So that justified it.” He tore his gaze off the phone and his grey eyes seemed nearly black as they met hers. “Would you ever have told me, if we hadn’t run into each other yesterday?”
She opened her mouth, but there weren’t any words to make this better. Because she might not have. She might have left him in ignorance for his entire life. Or at least until Sofie was old enough to make her own choice whether or not her father was in her life. The screen in her hands went dark.
“I have to think of Sofie,” she whispered, unable to meet his eyes. “I want her to have everything I never did.”
“Like a father?”
She flinched.
They’d never fought before—in the dizzy first flush of those three weeks everything had been perfect and then she’d broken things off without giving him the option. She was unprepared for him to lash out like a wounded bear—and unprepared for him to know exactly which barbs to throw at her. Suddenly she wished he didn’t know her so well. That she hadn’t been so open with him about her past back then. That she hadn’t trusted him so much. He knew everything.
She met his eyes, her skin cold and her face calm. “I hate that I was honest with you when you were lying to me.”
“I wasn’t lying,” he growled, leaning across the table. “I was waiting for the right moment, trying to find a way to tell you in a way you’d understand.”
“Then you should be able to understand why I didn’t tell you about Sofie.”
“You were just waiting for the right moment?” He rocked back in his chair, sarcasm heavy in his voice. He shook his head, disgusted. “I had a right to know.”
“Why?” she demanded, defensiveness that he was right making her voice sharp. “Because you provided the genetic material?”
“We were more than that.”
“Were we? I can’t remember.”
Except she could. Even having all those memories tainted by the belief that he’d cast her as his mistress hadn’t completely erased them. She remembered what it felt like when they’d been together. The possibility. The hope. The rightness of it.
Cam was staring down at the table cloth, his hands flat on the table, breathing slowly in and out like he was trying to force himself to calm. He had a level-headed reputation. The catcher who could calm down any pitcher and stop a bench-clearing brawl before it could start. That reputation was being put to the test today.
Finally he looked up, a man wearing his calm like an ill-fitting Halloween mask. His gaze flicked down to the darkened phone. “Can I meet her?”
Rachel’s stomach dipped and swung. She’d been expecting those words, but still they caught her right in the gut. “Of course.” She swallowed down her nerves, clenching both hands around her phone. “That’s why I picked this place. It’s close to my apartment. We can go there after we eat.”
“Let’s go now.” He shoved back his chair, already pulling a twenty from his wallet and dropping it on the white tablecloth even though they hadn’t ordered anything.
She wanted to argue, to delay, to come up with some excuse—but there wasn’t any. Cam wanted to meet his daughter. However he felt right now, she knew he would never hurt Sofie—and he wasn’t likely to calm down and enjoy a pleasant lunch with Rachel before he saw her.
She pushed back her chair. “You can follow me in your car.”
* * * * *
He had a daughter. A daughter. The words kept repeating inside him, like they were rewriting his DNA with the new knowledge that he was a father.
Cam flexed his hands on the steering wheel and concentrated on following Rachel’s car down the quiet city streets. Not too close—he didn’t want her to accuse him of tailgating—but close enough that no other cars could get between them. On his way to meet his daughter.
He’d always wanted to be a dad.
Well. Maybe not always. He hadn’t really given it much thought until the last few years when it had become a point of contention with Erika and he’d realized it wasn’t something he was willing to give up on. He loved his nieces and nephews, loved being the fun uncle, but he also wanted more. He wanted the whole shebang—first steps, dirty diapers, skinned knees. He wanted to be the one they ran to when they were upset. He wanted to be the one to put the fear of God into any potential boyfriends so they wouldn’t dream of hurting his baby.
He wanted that. And it was hard not to be pissed at Rachel for depriving him of the time he could have already spent with his daughter. Sofia. He hadn’t even gotten to name her. Or even consult on the name.
He knew Rachel had been upset when she thought he was married and he understood that, but how could she not tell him? That didn’t even seem to be on the same scale. This was his child.
They pulled into the parking lot of a modest, low-rise apartment complex and Cam followed Rachel to the lot alongside one of the buildings. He shut off the engine and closed his eyes, pulling hard on his calm. No matter how he felt about Rachel right now—and he had several choice words he would undoubtedly be sharing with her later—his daughter wasn’t part of that. He needed to make the best possible first impression. Even if she might not remember this, he would remember it for the rest of his life.
He opened his eyes and stepped out of the car. Rachel was waiting for him on the sidewalk. She didn’t say a word, turning toward the exterior staircase as he fell into step behind her.
It had warmed up overnight and yesterday’s snow was already melting, dripping off the eaves in a steady rhythm that seemed unnaturally loud, as did their footsteps as they clomped up the stairs. Her keys jingled as she unlocked the door and she called out, “Yaya, we’re here,” as she pushed it open—
And then he was stepping into the apartment, looking around, his eyes landing on his child. His daughter.
She stood on pudgy legs in the middle of a cordoned off play area, clutching an oversized Elmo stuffed animal in one arm and an empty Kleenex box in the other. He’d seen the picture, but somehow hadn’t been able to wrap his head around it. She hadn’t been real until this moment, and he realized as he stood there that she was bigger than he’d expected. Taller. With more curly dark hair flying in every direction. There was an older woman in the room as well, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the baby long enough to greet her. His daughter lifted her soft baby face toward the door, instantly dropping both items she held and thrusting her arms into the air. “Mama! Up!”
“Hi, sweet girl.” Rachel set down her bag and walked to the play area.
“Up!” The toddler demanded again, arms thrust imperiously upward, and Rachel reached over the barrier surrounding the play area and lifted her into her arms.
Mother and child turned toward him. And suddenly he couldn’t breathe.
Chapter Eight
Cam didn’t look so good.
He’d gone pale, standing woodenly in the doorway, his eyes never leaving Sofie. Her daughter’s warm weight was a comfort in her arms as she faced him, her own nerves oddly calmed by seeing him so overwhelmed.
“This is Sofie,” she explained unnecessarily. “Sofie, this is Cam.”
That got a reaction. He shot her a look and Rachel flushed.
“Your daddy,” she amended awkwardly—not that Sofie would understand. The words were for Cam. Sofie didn’t entirely understand the concept of parents yet. There were just people in her life who adored her. Whether they were called Mama or Yaya or Gam—as she called her grandmother—they were just satellites orbiting her, the star at the center of their world.
“Hello, Sofie,” Cam said softly, his scratchy voice sounding even deeper and raspier than usual. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Sofie stared at Cam in silence, studying him, until he took a step toward the
m. Sofie turned her head away sharply, burying her face in Rachel’s shoulder, her little arms suddenly clinging tight as if to make sure Rachel wasn’t considering handing her to the strange man. Sofie was usually social, smiling and waving at everyone she met, but she must have been picking up on Rachel’s tension. She soothed the baby with a soft sound and a hand on her back. “It’s okay, Sofie Bear,” she murmured.
Though nothing felt okay.
She didn’t know what to do. Cam stared at Sofie. Sofie cowered from Cam. Yaya watched it all. And Rachel had no freaking idea what she was supposed to do next. She’d thought about what she would say to him, how she would tell him. She’d thought about the moment when he would see his daughter. She just hadn’t let herself think beyond that and now panic was starting to claw up into her chest.
“Maybe you should go.”
Cam jolted like she’d tazed him. “What?”
“You can come back later. It’s almost time for her nap.” It was true but it was an excuse. A desperate excuse. “I just think we could all use some time to process. We can talk again in a day or two. Figure out…figure out what’s next…”
“Rachel.” He stepped forward, as if he might reach for Sofie, but the baby was still clinging to her, refusing to look up. For a moment she thought he might argue. Refuse to go. Part of her almost wanted him to—though she wasn’t sure whether it was because she wanted him to take charge of the situation or because she wanted him to be unreasonable so she could dislike him and feel less like the villain in the room.
His expression was so raw when he looked at Sofie. So vulnerable. And Rachel was starting to realize he might not be the guy she’d told herself he was for the last two years.
But that still didn’t mean she knew what to do with him.
“Okay,” he said finally. His right hand flexed at his side. “If that’s what you want.”
She didn’t know what she wanted, but she nodded as if she did, shifting Sofie in her arms.
Cam nodded as well, his Adam’s apple shifting as he swallowed. “Okay,” he repeated. Sofie had lifted her head and was now peering at him curiously. His gaze fell back to her and didn’t move, like he was trying to memorize her face.
Rachel let him stare until she couldn’t stand the awkwardness anymore. She cleared her throat and Cam jerked.
“I’ll see you soon.” He moved quickly once he started, out the door, his footsteps receding down the steps outside.
Rachel hugged Sofie, breathing in her sweet baby scent and hoping she hadn’t made a huge mistake.
* * * * *
“What do you mean you have a daughter? Like, a daughter daughter?” Shelby demanded.
“Is there another definition for that word?” Carly snapped at their sister, so at least Cam didn’t have to.
He’d driven straight to Carly’s house after Rachel kicked him out. He’d wanted to argue. Wanted to stay. Wanted to hold his child. But he didn’t know what to do, so he’d honored her wishes and left—hoping as he did so that he was somehow proving she could trust him. If she knew he would leave when she asked, wouldn’t she be more likely to let him back in? He needed to be let back in. That was his daughter. His baby.
“Yes, a daughter daughter. Her name is Sofia and she’s a year and a half old.”
Shelby swore softly under her breath and Cam silently echoed the sentiment. This wasn’t at all what he’d expected when he went to meet Rachel for lunch. He never would have thought he could feel this desperate—or this angry at her.
She’d kept him from his child. Maybe it was a good thing he’d left her apartment. He’d been so focused on Sofie that he hadn’t acknowledged the anger simmering beneath the surface toward her mother, but it was there, bubbling hotter every time he thought about the two years he’d lost.
First words. First steps. So many milestones.
“Are you sure it’s yours?” Shelby asked—and everyone in the room turned to glare at her.
He’d driven to Carly’s without calling or texting ahead, not thinking—hoping his sister would be home and not out Christmas shopping on a Saturday afternoon less than three weeks from Christmas. He’d found not just Carly, but Shelby and Ashley as well. They’d been baking cookies for a school fundraiser—a task which had been delegated to the husbands as soon as Carly had seen Cam’s face. They were now cloistered in her upstairs “sewing room”—which, to Cam’s knowledge, had never actually been used for sewing and was actually where she went when she needed to close a door between her and her passel of children.
Children she’d been there for the birth of—though that was stupid. Of course she had. She’d given birth to them. But his brain wasn’t working. All he could seem to think of was all the things he’d missed because Rachel had decided he was evil. He hadn’t been there when his own baby was born.
“What?” Shelby demanded when Ashley and Carly turned death glares on her. “It’s a valid question. He’s a professional athlete.”
“She’s mine.”
“I’m just saying, a little paternity test goes a long way—”
“Shelby. She’s mine.” And he hadn’t even gotten a picture of her. Shit. Why hadn’t he taken a picture?
“Okay.” Carly clasped her hands, leaning forward. “Next steps. What’s the situation? What’s the relationship with the mom? Obviously you knew her.”
“We dated a couple years ago. It was before my divorce with Erika was final and when she found out I was still technically married she assumed the worst. Instead of talking to me, she broke up with me via text and I never heard from her again until this week. She’s coordinating the Russell House fundraiser.”
“The Bachelor Auction?” Ashley perked up. “She picked you for a bachelor auction?”
“She didn’t pick me. Don’t look so excited. It wasn’t a ploy to see me again. She had no idea I was involved when her boss assigned her to the event.”
“That you know of.”
“She kept the existence of my child from me for years,” he reminded Ashley.
“Okay, but maybe she wanted to tell you.”
“Ashley,” Carly cut in. “Not helping.”
Cam wasn’t sure what would help at the moment. He didn’t know why he’d come. He’d somehow thought that Carly, who always thought she knew what was best for everyone, would know what to do.
“I take it you want to be in her life,” Carly said.
“Of course I do.”
She nodded. “Good. Knowing what you want is the first step. Now we just have to figure out how to get it.”
“She wouldn’t have told you unless she wanted you in the baby’s life,” Ashley said.
“Or money,” Shelby added.
Carly shot the younger two a look to shut them up, but Cam frowned. Why had she told him? He’d been so focused on the fact that she’d kept the secret for so long that he’d never really thought of why she’d changed her mind.
She knew he wasn’t married anymore. She knew he hadn’t used her the way she’d assumed. But she’d still been so guarded. So protective of the baby, holding her like she was afraid Cam would snatch her out of her arms.
But she had told him.
There had to be a reason. Maybe they could start with that. He still wanted to roar when he thought about what she’d done, but maybe he needed to stop thinking about all he’d missed so he didn’t miss out on any more.
Carly smiled, seeing the shift in his expression. “Ready to look forward?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You know it’s really annoying how you think you’re right all the time.”
“You love that I’m right all the time. That’s why you came to me. You needed someone to tell you to stop dwelling on pointless shit in the past that you can’t change and focus on the baby and the future. Say, Thank you, Carly.”
“Please don’t,” Ashley begged. “She’s insufferable enough as it is.”
“Have you noticed her
ego just keeps getting bigger?” Shelby commented. “You’d think it would have a maximum size, but no.”
“You’d all be lost without me,” Carly declared, her ego on full display. “And I expect gratitude in the form of lavish, over-the-top Christmas presents.”
“That reminds me,” Ashley said sweetly, “I need to get to the Dollar Store to finish my Christmas shopping.”
As his sisters continued bickering cheerfully amongst themselves, Cam let the sound wash over him, calming his anxiety. Sofia was family. Rachel was family now. And family made it work. He was going to be part of their lives. They were going to make it work.
* * * * *
Three hours later, Rachel still had no idea how this was going to work. She’d gone over every moment of the aborted lunch and Cam’s introduction to Sofie, and she couldn’t seem to get the look on his face when he’d looked at their daughter out of her head—the combination of shock and wonder and vulnerability, like his entire heart had been laid out for her to see.
It was exactly how she felt every time she looked at Sofie. And it scared the crap out of her.
Somehow this would be so much easier if he hadn’t looked at her daughter like she’d taken his whole heart at first glance.
Her mother and Yaya had taken Sofie to the grocery store so Rachel could think, since riding in the cart and waving at people was one of the baby’s favorite pastimes. Rachel knew if she stayed in the apartment she’d only drive herself crazy. She had to do something productive, so she grabbed her car keys and headed to the storage locker to collect the Christmas stuff she’d been neglecting for the last week and a half.
She’d just punched in the code for the storage place’s gate when her phone rang. Panic stabbed in her chest and she knew it was Cam. The number wasn’t one she recognized. A seven-two-oh area code. Her rational brain argued that it could be any local caller, but her heart wasn’t listening. She hit the button to connect the call, her pulse thundering in her ears, and the SUV jerked through the opening gate as she stomped on the gas a little too hard.
“Hello?” she asked breathlessly.