Secret Daddy: A Second Chance Romance

by Scarlet West

  “I’ve cleaned up,” I said breathlessly. “Can I go, now? I just remembered I have an urgent appointment.”

  Sloane’s tailored brow went up archly. “If you have to go then go. Please be on time tomorrow though, ok?” she asked.

  “Of course,” I answered.

  I grabbed my coat and my purse and ran quickly out.

  “Damn it,” I swore, my high-heels pounding on the sidewalk as I ran from my work to my home which was fortunately within walking distance. . It wasn’t so much that I thought Tom would be upset or offended, as that I had missed his call and I figured he’d be worried. He was super-protective and always worried about me, especially if I had to walk home after work in the dark. As it was, it was summertime and the sunshine was only just starting to move toward the horizon.

  “I’m coming,” I yelled, pounding around the corner and up to my flat. I grabbed the door handle, raced inside, and ran up the stairs to the first floor. There, exhausted, I stopped, and my jaw nearly hit the floor.

  “Why, hello, Trina,” Tom said, grinning at me, blue eyes shining. “Great to see you! I was just starting to get worried. Look who’s here! Isn’t it amazing?”

  I was already looking. And it was amazing. And scary. And unbelievable.

  Standing next to my brother, wearing a tweed jacket and jeans, looking every bit as handsome and shy and gorgeous as he had the day I met him, was Drake.

  “Hello, Trina,” he said.

  2

  Drake

  I stared. The woman in front of me with tousled dark-blond hair, flushed cheeks, and wide blue eyes was the woman who had been in my thoughts, on and off, for the last decade. With her eyes wide and her lips moist and parted in surprise, she looked even more beautiful than I remembered.

  I can’t believe it.

  I swallowed hard. Tom shifted from one foot to the other and I suddenly remembered my manners as I glanced at his nervous smile.

  “Hi, Trina,” I said again. “It’s great to see you again.”

  I coughed, feeling my words caught up in my throat, which was as dry as if I’d swallowed sandpaper. I was nervous; way more nervous than I ever was when I stood on a stage on Broadway. Between an audience of a thousand people and looking like a fool in front of a woman you loved, I knew which one was more daunting.

  Give me a thousand people any day.

  She looked confused. She blinked up at me, licked her lips and nodded. A little frown played across her brow, then smoothed. I remembered that frown.

  She had frowned like that when we’d first been intimate together. That moment in the car, when we’d been kissing, her body held in my arms, lips parting underneath mine and then I breathed into her ear my question.

  “Shall we go to my place?”

  She’d frowned, and her eyes looked worried. “Drake…”

  “Trust me, Trina,” I’d whispered. “I promise I won’t do anything unless you want to.”

  “Oh, Drake, ” her mouth had formed that little round shape, showing surprise. I had felt my loins tense and done my best to control the overwhelming reaction in my body. She was close and smelled like flowers and warmth. Her breasts, round and soft, pushed against my football-fit chest. I held her close and knew that I wanted us to spend the night together.

  “I won’t do anything to hurt you,” I whispered into her hair. “Only what we both want.”

  “Okay.”

  We’d kissed again. Her mouth tasted like heaven. I drove us to my house and we went upstairs together. I recalled in a flash her sweet body, clad in a white lacy bra and white mismatched cotton panties. I remembered pushing her back onto the bed, plying her lips with kisses while my hands explored her warm curves, remembered her cry of pain and then her gasp of pleasure as I entered her for the first time.

  I heard Tom cough, and my memories shattered. I focused on that hauntingly lovely face in front of me.

  “Hi, Drake. It’s been a long time.”

  Silence. We looked at each other and in my head a thousand memories crowded close. Trina, walking on the beach the day we took a bus to Lake Michigan, her hair tangled in the wind, blowing around the happy glow of a smile. Trina, on my bed. The scent of her skin, like powder and lavender.

  “Trina.”

  “Ahem,” Tom cleared his throat. I twisted around sharply to look at him. He looked a bit confused, as if he wondered what the heck just happened. “Guys? Should we go inside?”

  “Oh!” Trina looked embarrassed and fumbled in her purse for a door key. I gave Tom a level look over her head as she bent to unlock the door, feeling a little annoyed with him. He clearly hadn’t told her I was coming, and she’d been put on the spot.

  “So, how have you been?” I asked as she opened the door.

  “I’m fine.” Her voice was flat, inexpressive. She seemed reluctant to say more, and so I didn’t ask anymore.

  We went in through the door and I looked around, impressed. The flat was small, neat and pretty. It was quite clearly Trina’s place, with everything arranged and a subtle but strong aesthetic. I couldn’t help casting a nervous, curious eye around.

  She’s probably with someone by now. You’ve missed your chance.

  The thought surprised me. I hadn’t known until that moment that I was even thinking about trying to win her back. But the moment I saw her, I had to admit it was the first thing on my mind.

  “Trina. I’m sorry if something else came up?” Tom was saying, hanging his coat on the coatrack by the door as he spoke. “I did call, but I guessed you were working, because you didn’t answer.”

  “I didn’t hear you,” she said. She’d gone through to the kitchen, and the cups she produced from the cupboard clinked on the metal around the sink. “Coffee?”

  Tom looked at me. I nodded.

  “Please,” I said. “That’d be great.”

  “Sure.”

  Our eyes held and I felt a strange tingle in the pit of my stomach. It could have been ten years ago, with us sitting in that café on Stanley Street together. It felt as if no time had passed. It had passed, though, and the girl in front of me was no longer a sunny teenager, but an alluring woman. The effect she had on me had been strengthened by that.

  I swallowed hard, aware of an annoying impulse in my groin. I looked around the room, trying to find something to focus on to distract myself. The place was neat and tidy, ordinary. Nothing I could fasten onto as a topic of conversation.

  “You’ve lived here long?” I asked, clearing my throat. Tom had gone to the restroom and I was left alone with Trina, which was slightly terrifying.

  “I moved last year,” she said. She was busy with the coffee; focused on pouring milk into the cups. She got to the third one, then stopped.

  “I don’t take milk,” I said.

  “I just remembered.”

  She had just put the carton aside, before I spoke.

  Our eyes met again. In that moment, it felt almost as if her gaze was a touch, stroking my skin. I stared and felt like I was falling into her blue eyes; those endless pools drawing me in and drowning me. I felt myself bend forward, as if I was about to kiss her. My back stiffened and I stepped back.

  What the hell are you doing, Drake? You’re not nineteen anymore.

  I made myself lean back again. She stepped away, reaching for the electric kettle.

  “Drake?” Tom’s voice filled the strained silence as I watched her and tried not to let my eyes stray to her firm waist, her rounded buttocks.

  “Yes?” I tore my gaze away from Trina’s shapely, jeans-clad form, and back to my best friend.

  “You told Trina about your latest job? Why you’re here?”

  “Um, no. I hadn’t gotten to that yet.”

  “Your latest job?” Trina asked, looking up at me curiously. “What job, Drake?”

  “Um, nothing so exciting,” I stammered. “Shall we have coffee?”

  “Drake?” Tom sounded amazed. “Here you are, the homecoming hero, and you’re not
even saying? Come on! Quit with the modesty! We all want to hear about your awesome idea.”

  I felt my cheeks going red, and saw Trina looking at me curiously. I felt flushed and wasn’t sure if I loved or hated Tom in that moment, best friend or not. It was embarrassing, being put on the spot like that.

  “Can I maybe sit down first? Have coffee? I’ve been traveling nine hours.”

  “Sure,” he nodded. “I’m sorry. I guess I was just excited.” He looked contrite.

  “I’m glad you were,” I said, instantly regretting my sharpness.

  “Can I do something?” he asked Trina. “Like, carry the tray, or something?”

  “It’s okay,” Trina said, lifting a tray with three rather nice earthenware mugs and a plate on it. “I’ve got it.”

  She carried the tray across from the kitchen area to a low coffee table. I sat down on the couch and looked across at her. Tom sat on my right, Trina opposite me. We looked around and one another for a moment, sharing nervous smiles.

  Tom chuckled. “It’s just amazing, having you here like old times.” He lifted his coffee and stirred it, then set the teaspoon aside and taking a sip.

  “It is,” I murmured. “Just like old times.”

  Trina looked at me and I held her gaze. We stared at each other a long moment. She broke eye contact first.

  “So,” she said. “Tom mentioned this idea?”

  “The job. Yes,” I coughed, looking at my hands. “It’s a silly idea, really. I just heard about the economic difficulties of town, and I wanted to do something to help, and…”

  “Drake’s making a movie about the place!” Tom cut in.

  “Um, yes. That.” I smiled at my best friend’s enthusiasm for my project.

  “A movie?” Trina stared up at me. “You’re making a movie? About Bridgeway?”

  Her blue eyes were wide with surprise and I felt a tinge of pride touch my spine and shiver upwards, making me blush. I couldn’t have asked for a better reaction. For once, I felt really proud of what I had become.

  “Um, yeah,” I said. “About Bridgeway. And the mines, and how they’re closing. It’s a docu-drama, really. I’m producing it.”

  “And acting in it, and probably directing too,” Tom chuckled. “It’s going to be awesome.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “You became an actor, after all? You always said you would.” Trina’s voice was gentle.

  I felt my heart reach out to her and wished that I could touch her.

  “Yes,” I said. I had forgotten she wouldn’t have known anything about me. I felt guilty. I really had disappeared from her life without so much as a call in all these ten years. I had done it to myself; I’d known I would never have been able to leave her unless the contact was stopped.

  “Good for you,” she said. “You were always so passionate, about it. Even as a teenager.” She looked happy for me, but sad also.

  I chuckled. “Especially then. I think it lost some of its promise when I was working ten-hour days on Broadway.”

  “You were on Broadway?” she stared at me, mouth half-open.

  I flushed. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m a stage actor, normally.”

  She smiled, then, and I found I couldn’t look anywhere else. She was so beautiful that my heart flipped over and I felt like I could stare at her forever, just watching her smile.

  “How long are you staying for?” Tom wanted to know. I had suggested to him I’d be more than a month, but we hadn’t discussed anything concrete.

  “Six weeks,” I said. “Or, that’s what length of time is planned for shooting.”

  “I see,” Tom said. “You’re all set with a place to stay?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “The cast is staying at the Kingsley Hotel.”

  “It’s still open?” Tom wanted to know.

  I shrugged. “Yeah. Why?”

  “So many businesses have closed,” Trina informed us. “The second supermarket – remember, the one on the corner of Stirling Street? It closed last year. And the car dealers and the other garage and…” she shook her head. “It’s in a bad state, this place. With the mines emptying, people have less money, and businesses less work.” She looked at her hands, and I could see anxiety in the set of her posture. “It’s a real mess.”

  “That’s too bad. That’s why I want to help,” I said softly. I could only imagine how much pressure it was putting on Trina. I didn’t even know if she was married or what her job was. “Is it affecting your work?” I asked.

  “Surprisingly less than you’d think,” she chuckled. “Hairstylists don’t run out of business as fast as car dealerships. Us and restaurants, we do okay, even in recessions.”

  “That’s surprising,” I admitted, nodding. “I’m glad, though,” I added hastily, in case I had been inadvertently rude.

  “I’m glad, too,” she said. She gave me a weary smile.

  Suddenly, I felt more than glad that I’d gone back there. Trina was struggling. She didn’t need to say it in words for me to be able to see the slope of her shoulders, the little twist at the edge of her mouth. She was stressing about her livelihood. The town’s fate affected her as well as everyone else.

  And I can make a difference.

  Maybe it was arrogant of me, but I knew I could do something. Perhaps the place could find new income as a tourist town, or maybe more investors would see the movie and be inspired to invest money. The place could do with new industry, besides mining.

  “So,” Tom said, leaning back on the couch. “You have plans, while you’re here? Things for your free time?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Visiting people, mostly. Maybe going out into the countryside a bit? I remember there was a great place, just near here, with hills.”

  “Westhill,” Trina said automatically.

  My eyes held hers. I remembered hiking there with her, ten years ago. Her long legs in shorts, the long grass tickling her knees, the way we’d laughed and chased each other down a slope, then tumbled into the shade of a tree together. Making love, afterward, the scent of grass in her hair.

  She blushed and I looked away.

  “Yeah,” her brother said, unaware. “I remember the place. Had some nice hiking trails. We should go there.”

  “No,” I said automatically.

  Tom frowned at me. “Okay,” he said slowly, leaning back. “We won’t, then.”

  Trina frowned at me too, and I struggled to think of something to say. It wasn’t that I didn’t love the place or cherish those memories. It was because if I went there, all my old feelings would be awakened. I didn’t want to remember her that way.

  If I do, I’ll never go back.

  It was a stupid fear, I reckoned. I had to go back to my apartment, my career, my life. All the same, I knew that, more than ever, my thoughts would come back here to a time with Trina when I had been happy. I couldn’t bear it.

  “How’s life been treating you?” I asked.

  She stared at me. I realized what a weird thing I’d just done, asking her that out of the silence. I reached for my coffee, taking a sip. Distracting myself.

  “Um, life’s fine,” she said awkwardly. “I have a nice boss – well, mostly nice – and work is alright, and Tom’s always around the corner,” she added, with a grin at her twin brother.

  “I’m glad to hear that’s a plus,” he teased.

  “Oh shut up,” she teased him back. “You know it is.”

  They grinned at each other and I was struck, as always, by the resemblance. Both had long, oval faces and blue eyes, their hair soft and wavy. It could in many ways have been the same face, only made masculine for Tom. His nose was different – a larger bump on the bridge – and he had a strong jaw and a mild expression in his eyes, which were a slightly different shape to Trina’s.

  They were a lot alike in personality as well. The thought made me grin. Both were curious, open, funny people, with a love of life and a sincere affection and loyalty to their friends. Nice p
eople. Kind people.

  And I took Trina’s trust in me and smashed it. What kind of a person did that make me?

  I shifted in my seat, uncomfortably. Tom had never reproached me with that when we met up years later, after college. I think he hadn’t known just how close we were. It wasn’t something I’d felt comfortable discussing with him, after all.

  Best friend or not, it was still his sister.

  And so, I’d never told Tom about our short but passionate relationship. When it happened, he’d already headed off for college anyway, and I was just finishing my gap year. Trina had been there, finishing her last exams and with plans for hairdressing.

  I was glad to see she’d stuck to her plans as well. I studied her while she chatted to her brother about someone at his work. Her hands moved as she talked, her fingers long and tapering. I could remember those hands so well. I’d always thought them beautiful, with the long fingers and that one slightly twisted little finger that she’d broken when she was a little girl and was always shy over.

  As I studied her hands, I realized something. She wore no rings.

  I felt a peculiar sensation in my chest. Hope.

  “So,” Tom frowned at me. “You’re here for six weeks, you say?”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, non-committal. At that stage, I still wasn’t too sure if I wanted to see Trina every second of every day, or never see her again. Her effect was worrying.

  I never thought I’d fall in love with her a second time, so fast.

  As I watched her, smiling at the little gestures, the way her chin puckered when she grinned, I realized that I had already fallen again, hard. Though in honesty, I’d never really let her go fully to begin with.

  “So,” Tom said. “We’re probably going to be seeing a lot of you, then?” He sounded hopeful. I looked at my cup, trying to think of something to say.

  “Um, probably I won’t be free that often,” I stammered. “I mean, with the shooting, and the producing, and…”

  “I understand,” Tom waved an airy hand over my worries. “But maybe we can hang out a bit before you start filming?”