Surprise Daddy: A Billionaire Doctor Accidental Pregnancy Romance

by Hunter Rose

  “Bad word, mama.”

  I narrow my eyes and glare at him, clenching my jaw so tight I’m half afraid I’m going to crack my own teeth. Roman seems to get the message that his joke has fallen very, very flat. He nods and looks down at the table for a moment, then back up at me with a resolve in his eyes.

  “I know I waited too long, but I thought about you every single day, Scarlet,” he finally says. “I actually started to call you. Dozens of times. I never let the call through, though. I always hung up before the connection was made.”

  “Why, Roman? Why didn’t you call?”

  He looks up at me, an inscrutable expression on his face. I can see that he’s still wrestling with a decision in his mind. He still doesn’t know how much he should tell me. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t like to appear weak. Vulnerable. He’s the kind of man who buries his emotions deep down inside. He fears his emotions. Fears making real connections with anybody. That much was obvious about him from day one.

  “I didn’t call at first because what we had between us was too – real,” he says softly. “Honestly, I felt so much for you and felt it so deeply that it – scared me. My own fear of what I felt for you is what held me back, Scarlet. It’s my fault. I know that.”

  I sit back and let his words sink in for a long moment. They hit me hard and send a surge of emotion washing through me. His confession is something I did not expect. I don’t know what I expected, really. maybe just some string of shitty excuses. But I hear the sincerity in his voice. See it on his face. I shake my head. I did not see that coming.

  “Anyway, aside from that, the FOB I was attached to really was attacked,” he explains. “That wasn’t just an excuse. It was brutal. My tent got hit and everything inside was incinerated – including my phone. After that, I had no way to contact you.”

  At first, I had thought that was just something he’d said to try to make excuses. But the utter seriousness in those blue eyes erases any doubt as to his sincerity. I have to say I’m feeling a bit rattled. I started from a position of strength. I was the one who’d been ghosted. The moral high ground was mine. And while he’s not totally in the clear, the honesty and sincerity I hear in his words – and the pain I see etched onto his own face – change things. Somewhat.

  “Y – you could have contacted International Physicians for my contact infor –”

  He’s shaking his head. “When I got Stateside, I tried that. I was told they couldn’t give out any of your personal information for your safety.”

  He’s right. They wouldn’t have just given out my contact information to anybody who called up asking for it. I’m processing everything Roman has said and feel some of the ice around my heart starting to thaw slightly. The situation apparently isn’t what I thought it was.

  That doesn’t make everything sunshine and roses. Not by any stretch of the imagination. But at least now, I have some understanding. And while it answers some questions, it raises even more. Questions I have no business asking myself. Questions whose answers I know will only serve to cloud everything in my mind even more. Roman and I are in the past. Everything that happened between us is long done. It doesn’t matter anymore.

  Does it?

  I grit my teeth and square my shoulders as I face him. “I – I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that, Roman,” I answer. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with any of that.”

  He spreads his hands, his palms up. “You don’t need to do anything with it,” he says. “I just – I wanted you to know that I didn’t mean to ghost you. I wanted you to know there were reasons. Some of them out of my control.”

  I don’t know what he wants me to say or do, so I remain silent. I look down at the table, trying to push the pile of emotions rising up within me back down into that black box in the back of my mind where I keep them locked up. I dump it all into the box that keeps me safe. Or at least, keeps me sane.

  “I also wanted to know if you needed anything,” he goes on. “I mean, I want you to know that I want to help you. With Kinsey. I want to help you with anything you need. We can figure out child support and whatever to help –”

  “No,” I snap. “I don’t want or need your help.”

  “Scarlet, please –”

  I know all the reasons I should accept his help. Or at least, let him live up to his responsibilities as a parent. I know that I’m in trouble, and it’s only going to get worse, not better. Everything Tyson said still holds true. But sitting here in front of him, looking into his eyes, I just can’t. Despite the feelings that persist in spite of everything, there is still a layer of hardened emotion that I just can’t get past.

  I’m still processing everything he dropped on me today, and it’s going to take a while to sort through it all – I really don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it all. But underneath everything is still a seething anger stemming from the pain he caused me. Intentionally or not, the man left scars on me.

  “I don’t know what you want from me, Roman.”

  “I don’t want anything. I’m trying to help you.”

  “I don’t need your help,” I spit.

  He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “And if I want to have a relationship with my daughter?”

  Shit. It’s the thing I feared the most on the verge of coming to pass. I grit my teeth and bite back the scathing words on my lips as Kinsey drops back down at the table, dropping her pile of paper napkins down onto the rapidly spreading puddle of ice cream. Not wanting to scare or upset her, I put a smile on my face I know looks entirely fake as I turn back to Roman.

  “That’s something we can certainly talk about,” I say as cheerily as I can. “Some other time.”

  He lets out a breath and looks from Kinsey to me. “I mean it. Anything you need.”

  “Great. Thanks,” I say. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He nods and leans forward, tugging on one of Kinsey’s ponytails and gives her a smile. She smiles in return at him; the ice cream smeared all over her face.

  “I should probably go. Lives to save, and all,” he says as he gets to his feet. “And I should probably let you check in on your husband. He should be getting out of the MRI room soon.”

  He’s out of the cafeteria, well on his way back to the elevator, before his words even register with me. My husband? He thinks that Tyson is my husband? The thought makes me laugh out loud, which makes Kinsey look at me strangely.

  I just shake my head and continue to laugh. It’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.

  21

  Roman

  “Okay, so, the good news is that I very much doubt she’s running a scam on you,” Liam says. “I think you can put your mind at ease about that.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Call it professional instinct,” he grins. “I have a nose for these kinds of things. It’s part of the reason I’m good at what I do.”

  I’m sitting in a booth near the back in Sloops with Liam a few days after our initial meeting. The man is fast, thorough, and efficient. He’s not a man who milks his clients for a few extra days’ worth of expenses in a luxurious hotel. He does what he’s hired to do, quickly and efficiently. I appreciate that about him.

  Liam has a couple of folders laid out on the table before us, the pages of his reports and the photographs in neat stacks around us. The waitress comes back and drops off our drinks – top shelf whiskey for him of course and a martini for me.

  “Got a sixth sense, huh?”

  He nods. “Something like that. I’ve also got a lot of years of experience in this field, so I can usually tell the scammers from the good ones pretty quickly. And all I can say is that your girl is pretty squeaky clean,” he explains. “Rarely misses work, pays her taxes on time, runs a slight deficit on her credit cards but nothing too unmanageable, doesn’t even have a parking ticket. She’s a total straight arrow, that one. I just don’t see her as the extortionist or the criminal mastermind type.”
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  I chuckle. “Yeah, that she is. Always has been a pretty squeaky clean.”

  My mind drifts back to Syria, and I recall that was one of the first impressions I had of her – a total straight arrow. That brings to mind something Zeke said to me that first night I met her – some things never change. In fact, they apparently don’t.

  “Also, I have a copy of Kinsey’s birth certificate, and Scarlet listed you as the father on it,” Liam adds. “It’s in that file over there.”

  I nod. I had no doubts about Kinsey’s paternity anyway. And although my name on a piece of paper isn’t definitive proof, of course, in my heart of hearts I know that Scarlet wasn’t out there sleeping with everybody. I would be shocked to learn she’d slept with anybody else after I left there. I know she only slept with me because there was a genuine connection between us. And it was strong.

  “Now, the bad news – because there is always bad news, isn’t there?”

  I take a sip of my drink and brace myself for whatever he’s about to say. Although, I can’t think it’s going to be all that bad. It’s Scarlet, straight arrow extraordinaire, after all.

  “From what I’ve found, she’s going to be losing her place to live soon. Her roommate is apparently moving in with her boyfriend,” he explains. “She doesn’t have a lot of cash, and based on what she makes at the hospital, I don’t see how she’s going to find a place given the median rental prices in the market area.”

  He hands me a sheet of paper. It’s marked as an estimation of her bank records, which shows a depressingly small – bordering on non-existent – nest egg, as well as a workup on the median price of rentals in a number of Southern California cities and counties. Like I said – he’s thorough as hell.

  “And how in the hell did you get this kind of information?” I ask, kind of astounded. “Is this even legal?”

  “This is just an estimation. But understand that it is accurate. I looked into her work history, her credit rating, any outstanding loans or debts she had, the cost of rent and utilities she pays, cost of childcare, accounted it all for the last four years and even checked into her family to see if she has any assets or wealth from that angle. This is about it.”

  I’m completely dumbfounded. “This is incredible.”

  He shrugs and gives me his best Liam Neeson impersonation. “I have a particular set of skills…”

  I laugh and shake my head. “I’ve seen that movie,” I reply. “If my daughter ever gets kidnapped, I’ll be sure to call you.”

  He laughs and takes a sip of his whiskey. Damn. She and her daughter are going to be out on the street soon, and she still refused my help? What in the hell is she thinking? Does she hate me that much? Are her feelings for me so hard that she’d put herself and our daughter at risk of homelessness just to avoid having to take my help? I know she’s a proud woman, and tough as hell, but this is taking things a bit too far.

  I sip my drink and leaf through the pages of Liam’s reports, amazed that he’s gathered such a wealth of information in such a short span of time. Makes me wonder how in the hell he managed to do it. He’s either that good or he doesn’t make a habit of observing legal niceties. Not that it matters much to me, either way. I got what I needed

  “Let me ask you something,” I start. “I’m curious about her husband –”

  “Husband?” Liam asks.

  “Tall guy? Dark. Good looking,” I say. “He looks like the slick lawyer type to me. Or maybe a hedge fund manager. Something exploitative.”

  “I didn’t find anything about a husband. As far as I know, she’s not married.”

  “Huh,” I rub my chin. “Boyfriend?”

  He shakes his head. “Not that I found,” he says. “Her best friend is a tall, dark haired guy named Tyson. Teaches ninth grade history at a posh prep school. Maybe that’s who you’re talking about?”

  “Her best friend?”

  He nods. “Yeah, he was apparently just in the hospital for an –”

  “For an emergency appendectomy.”

  Liam is consulting his notes and nods. “Yeah, that’s right,” he laughs. “I guess you got your own set of skills, huh?”

  “Apparently so.”

  We talk for another half hour or so, and he shows me some interesting points from his investigative file. By the end of the evening, I feel confident that I have all the information I need. Probably more than I need. But it’s better to have too much information than not enough. The question now is, what do I do with this wealth of knowledge?

  Liam leaves me with the file of everything he collected and says his goodbyes. He’s got to take an early flight out to meet with another client in the morning. I finish my drink and gather everything together, then head home.

  I’m standing on my rooftop deck, looking out over the ocean. Soft jazz music is playing from the outdoor speakers as I take a sip of my beer and watch the waves crashing on the shoreline. The nighttime sky is perfectly clear, and the silvery light of the moon above gives the waves a phosphorescent glow. I love the sound of the breakers crashing on the shore and the taste of the salt air upon my lips. It’s nights like these that make me love living out here on the west coast.

  Aside from all of the personal reasons I left Chicago – reasons I try to think about as little as possible – living in Southern California has given me plenty of reasons for loving it here.

  I take a long pull of my beer and let everything Liam told me sink into my head. I’ve read everything in his file enough times that I practically have it memorized already. The fact that she’s not married is a stunner. And it gives me a small spark of hope. I mean sure, she hates my guts right now, but things can change. Right? I just have to figure out how to unlock the door that’s standing between us.

  As I consider that, my thoughts turn to Kinsey. My daughter. I still haven’t quite gotten used to the idea that I have a daughter. Once upon a time, I thought about having a family of my own, but I never thought it would actually happen. And since then, I’ve been so closed off to romantic entanglements for so long that the idea of having a family is something I haven’t given serious consideration to for a very long time.

  And yet, here I am. With a daughter of my own.

  I don’t understand it, really, but when we were in the elevator at the hospital, and I looked at that little girl, I felt something inside of me shift. She’s just so beautiful. So full of life. Looking at her made my heart swell with emotions I’ve never felt before. I don’t know if it’s love? If it’s pride? It could be joy? Or maybe it’s some combination of those three things – and maybe even more. I don’t know. I can’t explain it, but it’s as real to me as those waves crashing on the shoreline in front of me.

  As I think about Scarlet and Kinsey, I realize I have the chance to have something I used to flirt with the idea of wanting, but something I’ve considered to be nothing more than a pipe dream for a hell of a lot of years now – a family of my own.

  But then those thoughts bring me back to the fact that Scarlet isn’t in a great spot. She’s about to lose her home and doesn’t have the means to rent a new one. Not unless she moves somewhere that’s less than desirable. That’s less than safe.

  I know there are a lot of places that are cheaper to live than Southern California – even a pit like the Inland Empire. The Midwest for example, has a far lower cost of living. With her skills and experience, she could land a job somewhere in like Missouri or Iowa and probably live like a queen. Or at the very least, she’d be able to live a lot better out there than she can here on the salary she makes as a nurse.

  But the thought of Scarlet having to take my daughter out of state because she can’t make it here turns my stomach. Having just found her, I want to get to know her. I certainly don’t want to lose her. Not now. And I’d like a chance at putting things right with Scarlet. Despite all of the years between us, seeing her again has lit a fire in my chest that I can’t seem to extinguish.

  Maybe Scarlet doesn’t want
anything to do with me. Even after I explained that I didn’t ghost her – not in the way she thinks – she told me to fuck off anyway. Maybe I can’t win her over no matter what I do. That’s the risk I’m going to have to take. At least, it is if I have any intention of having a relationship with Kinsey. My daughter.

  And it’s that thought that tells me what my next step has to be.

  22

  Scarlet

  After changing into my street clothes – jeans, a short-sleeve button down, and white tennis shoes – I tie my hair back into a ponytail and head out of the locker room. I glance at the clock on my way through the lobby of my work. It’s just after two, which gives me a couple of hours to go and check out a couple of places before I have to pick Kinsey up from day care.

  “Goodbye, Scarlet.”

  I wave to Martha, the desk nurse. “Have a good day.”

  I step through the doors and out into the parking lot, slipping on my sunglasses. The sun is shining down. It’s warm. What I wouldn’t give to blow everything off and just go for a drive along the coast. Or maybe go play in the sand and sea. It would be so nice to blow off adult responsibilities and just go play.

  I walk through the employee parking structure and see him in the distance. I can’t tell who it is from this far away, but I’m pretty sure he’s leaning against my car. Slipping my hand into my bag, I casually pull out my can of mace and continue walking, feeling my body tighten up, and my pulse start to race. As I draw closer, though, I see who it is – Roman.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I snap.

  He looks down at my hand and raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smile upon his lips, then raises his hands in mock surrender.

  “Apparently, I’m about to get maced,” he quips.

  I look down at the canister in my hand, hesitating for a moment before I angrily stuff it back into my bag.