Secret Daddy: A Second Chance Romance

by Scarlet West

  He raised a brow in return but didn’t answer. His eyes on mine held so many statements, so many questions. I felt my whole body heat up under the stare. What was I supposed to do? There I was, at the table, with guests and two curious kids nearby.

  “Nice weather, huh?” I said. My voice came out gravelly and thick with feeling. He shrugged, and it seemed as if he didn’t notice how strained and strange I sounded.

  “Summertime in the country. It is great, isn’t it?” he smiled, easily.

  I noticed Skyler looking down the table at us, a small confused expression on her face. I looked at my food, trying to still my racing heart.

  “Can we go see the horse, please?” My daughter raised her voice plaintively, looking at Skyler who nodded.

  “Sure, honey. Just don’t get to close, okay? He’s just been reshod and he’s cranky.”

  “Okay!”

  Both girls chorused it and jumped up from the table, dessert finished. I watched them run. I saw Drake watching them too, and besides the look of fondness I saw also speculation.

  Tell me he’s not guessing.

  I felt my heart almost stop. In some ways, it would be easier if he guessed the truth. It would save me from having to come up with the words to tell him how I’d kept her from him for all this time.

  He turned back to me, though, and in his eyes I saw only fondness, and warmth.

  I looked at my hands, my heart soaring. The afternoon was, in so many ways, absolutely perfect despite all the questions in my heart.

  12

  Drake

  I got back from the farm late in the afternoon with my head spinning. Trina’s smile mixed with her insistence that I promise not to pry. It was all so confusing that I felt a headache starting just behind my eyes, the way it did when I was stressed about a big part and the performance was getting close. I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut, and sat down on the bed.

  I wished I could just ask her what the hell was going on. I was starting more and more to suspect that Amelia was mine. But I still couldn’t get past the fact that Tom hadn’t told me though. When Tom talked to me and told me about the child, he would have told me something that staggering. He would have told me years ago.

  Unless he didn’t know. That was the only explanation that he hadn’t kicked my ass before telling me I’d left his sister pregnant and heartbroken.

  Despite my worries, I called my crew and went directly to meet with Len and the other cameramen. Work was what I needed right then to get my mind off Trina, and I was sure the guys needed some information.

  We spent three hours talking and by the time we’d made the plan for the next day’s work, it was dinnertime. I went back to the hotel. I was thinking too hard to notice I was hungry.

  I sat down heavily on my bed, my mind a whirl of confusion. She was sending me so many mixed messages I was finding it hard to keep up with her. On the one hand, I felt hostility and reservation from her, as if she would rather I went away and she never saw me again. On the other hand, I couldn’t help remembering the way she smiled at me at lunchtime.

  She enjoyed that night as much as I did.

  Memories of the night we’d been together flooded into my brain as soon as I thought of it. Dreamy, sweet images made my blood race and sent a stabbing tingle into my groin.

  Trina had more than enough to worry about without me badgering her for a second night like that one. I had been graced with one more than I ever thought I’d get, and I wasn’t about to go believing I would be that fortunate another time.

  I reached into my pocket for my phone. I could at least text her – and Skyler – to thank them for a lovely afternoon. And when I did that, at least I would have made some sort of avenue to connect with Trina again.

  As I turned on my phone screen, I was surprised to discover that I had two messages waiting.

  Hi Drake, Tom had texted. Can you chat?

  The later message, also from Tom, simply said. Got time for a drink this pm?

  I texted back instantly. Yes.

  He called me to organize a time and soon we were sitting in the bar of the hotel, a beer in front of each of us. I took a long sip, feeling relaxed – truly relaxed – and slowly mellowing.

  “So,” Tom said. “How’s the shooting?”

  I shrugged, setting my glass aside for a moment. “Okay. You?”

  “Me?” He took a sip, winced at the taste, and frowned.

  “How’re you?”

  He shrugged. “Okay,” he elaborated. “Alex is stressing about a project and work, so I’m stressing too,” he chuckled. “But otherwise, life’s going great.”

  I took a swallow of my beer. “Hey,” I started. I wanted to ask him about Trina, to tell him about the afternoon and Amelia and try to ask him in a roundabout way about the identity of the girl’s father. I just didn’t know how to ask him about such a sensitive subject.

  “What?” he asked, giving me his genial half-smile.

  “Uh, Trina. You said her daughter was nine, right?”

  “That’s right,” he nodded. “Wonderful kid. Why?”

  He was smiling fondly, and I shifted in my chair uncomfortably. I really didn’t know how to address the topic I wanted to ask him about.

  “When she was born, we would have been starting college, yeah?” I probed gently.

  “About finishing with our first year, yeah,” Tom amended. “I was taking finals at the time. It was hectic. I wanted to be there for her, but she wouldn’t let me reschedule my tests!” he shuddered. “She was all alone, and I’ve always felt horrible about that.”

  “Yeah.” I stared into my glass, feeling stupid. I hadn’t thought about the fact that Trina was struggling with birth, pregnancy and motherhood, at a time when I was behaving like an irresponsible teenager.

  I swallowed hard.

  “Drake?” Tom said.

  “Huh?”

  “It was difficult. But it was a long time ago. I reckon Trina would rather put the whole thing behind her. She went through enough at the time, okay?”

  He sounded defensive. I nodded.

  “I get it, Tom,” I said. “I won’t ask any questions of her.”

  “Good.” He looked relieved. “Sorry. Just our dad…” he trailed off, staring into the beer as if he was looking back across time.

  “I’m so sorry for her that he was such an asshole to her,” I said, feeling anger welling up in my gut. What father in their right mind would treat their child so horribly when she was going through such a hard time? Suddenly, I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know what he knew.

  “Tom?”

  “Uh huh?”

  “Who was it?”

  “The father?” Tom shook his head. He looked shy. “Like I said before, I don’t know.”

  “You mean, she just never said?” I asked.

  “I mean that exactly,” Tom nodded slowly. “I have no idea, because I was never informed.” He shook his head, bitterly. “I wish she’d told me. I would have turned the city upside down, searching for the bastard and made him suffer.”

  “That’s precisely why she wouldn’t let you know,” I reminded, gently. “She was afraid of your reaction. After all the fuss with your father, I think the last thing she wanted was for you to get into a fight.”

  “I know,” he said. “I just wish I could have done more to help her.”

  “From what I see, it looks like you do a lot with Amelia,” I offered.

  Tom smiled. “I love that kid, man. She’s pretty great.”

  We sat quietly for a while.

  Inside, I felt a sense of rage mix with a buried sense of guilt. It was my fault – somehow, deep inside, I sensed that. If I hadn’t walked out of her life so cruelly, she wouldn’t ever have been in a position to trust the kind of jerk Amelia’s dad must have been.

  But what if it was me? If Tom didn’t know, he couldn’t have told.

  The thought was so awesome, and so scary, that I dismissed it instantly. If it was me,
Trina would have told me by now, wouldn’t she?

  “When’s Amelia’s birthday? In June?” I asked, trying to guess when Amelia was born.

  “May,” Tom corrected.

  “Truly?” I swallowed hard.

  “Yeah,” Tom nodded and smiled, remembering. “I will never forget seeing Trina with her that first time. Such a beautiful experience. Motherhood suited her from the get-go.” He shook his head, grinning as he recalled the moment. I wished I could have seen it.

  “I bet.” My voice was tight in my throat. I appreciated now more than ever Trina’s. The whole world would have been heaping shame on her, questioning her, making it impossible for her to decide to keep Amelia. The fact that she’d done so was remarkable. I doubted I would have made the same choice.

  ‘It all worked out great in the end. Who can say what the future will hold, eh?” he said.

  “Who indeed,” I said grimly. Tom chuckled and drank his beer, not noticing my frown.

  The more I saw of Trina, the more I was starting to wish my future could be one I would share with her. I had been wondering for a long time why it was I had never forgotten her. Now that I’d seen her again, I knew absolutely that I didn’t want anyone else. I wanted to share my life with her. And Amelia.

  But what could I do?

  “Drake?” Tom said with a mellow expression. “It’s good to have you back. It’s been too long.”

  “Yeah,” I said, noticing that he was tired enough to start slurring after a beer. I had a thought – not a kind one, necessarily, but one that would help me out. “Another round?”

  “Sure,” Tom nodded, shrugging. “Why not?”

  I ordered us a round. I knew it was uncharitable of me, but I wanted to get Tom to open up. He had to know more than he might think he did. Trina would have told him more details about Amelia. The idea had started to obsess me and I found myself needed to know if the girl was my daughter.

  “Tom?” I asked, when he was almost through the second beer, and we’d finished talking about football and the prospects for the upcoming Bear’s season.

  “Yeah?” He raised a brow, decidedly sleepy.

  “I know I asked you this already, but you must know some details? Who do you reckon is Amelia’s father?”

  “No idea,” Tom said. “I was away about the time it all happened, remember? I only found out about it when I came home for a weekend. She hadn’t even written in an email, or called me on the phone. It was weird.”

  “Yeah,” I said, frowning. “It does seem weird.” The more I thought about it, the more I felt a sort of helpless rage. Helpless, because I knew I could do nothing about it and that terribly, it had probably been my fault it all happened.

  “I should go home,” Tom said, finishing his second beer with a gulp. “I need to check some stuff for work. And I want to be able to drive.” He made a wry grimace.

  “Sure,” I nodded. “Hey Tom?”

  “Mm?” He was pushing back his chair, fiddling in his coat pocket for his wallet. I shook my head, pulling out my own. “Thanks,” he said.

  “No worries,” I replied, taking out the cash we’d be needing. “Would you do something for me?”

  “Sure,” Tom nodded. “If I can. Why?”

  “Could you try to give me time to talk with Trina? I haven’t seen her for ages, and I’d love to catch up.” I felt slightly bad about my lie.

  “Sure,” he nodded. “How about you have dinner with us tomorrow? If you’re going to finish on site in time?”

  “You, Alex and Trina?”

  “Yeah,” he grinned, sleepy. “We sometimes have dinner together round seven. Trina usually hosts; it’s easier for her to be at home with Amelia.”

  “Sure,” I nodded. “I understand. Would she mind if I was there?” I added carefully.

  “No!” Tom laughed, genially. “She’ll be as pleased as I am to catch up.”

  “If you say so,” I said carefully.

  He shook his head. “I do.”

  He pushed back his chair and I nodded, standing and shaking hands.

  “Thanks, man,” I said, following him out to his car. “Let me know if it’s all set for tomorrow, huh?”

  “Sure will,” Tom called, slamming the door behind him and rolling down the window with a grin. “Sleep well.”

  “I will. You too,” I replied.

  If, I thought as I walked up the stairs to my room, I can get my mind off Trina.

  13

  Trina

  I lay back on my bed, fully dressed, feeing exhausted. It was nine o’ clock in the evening, and I wanted to finish with some things around the house, but I was simply too tired right then.

  Upstairs, I could hear the sound of Amelia jumping up and down on her bed. She had been so full of energy when we got back from the farm that I had trouble getting her to sit still and eat her dinner. As well as being energized, she’d been oddly distant with me. I put it down to being over-tired and had sent her up to bed as soon as possible.

  “Go to sleep, you imp,” I whispered fondly, hearing her roll over in bed again, sighing to herself.

  Thinking about my daughter was a pleasant distraction from thinking about the one issue that had been plaguing me all afternoon, and that was Drake, and my feelings for him.

  “Damn it,” I said to myself, being careful to keep my voice a whisper. I didn’t want to bring Amelia downstairs. Curious at the best of times, she had sensed there was something on my mind.

  I don’t want her asking difficult questions.

  My daughter was smart, and I had caught her eying me and Drake more than once during the lunch that afternoon. She had a small speculative frown on her face and I knew – just knew – that she was wondering who he was and why we were staring at each other.

  I sat up on the bed, feeling frustrated and sad. It had been good to see Drake, in one sense. In another sense, it had made me feel so frustrated with him that I’d just wanted to grab his collar and shake him.

  She’s your daughter, I had wanted to yell at him. How can you not know that?

  It was ludicrously obvious. Her eyes were the exact shade of green as his, her face the same . She was in many ways the image of her father. And yet nobody had noticed yet! I wanted to cry. The only person who knew was Skyler. And she only guessed because I told her.

  “Mommy?”

  I jumped, surprised. I pressed my hand to my chest, breathing ragged.

  “Sorry, sweetie,” I said, seeing my daughter standing in the doorway. “You startled me. You okay?”

  “I can’t sleep,” she said. Dressed in a pink nightie with a picture of a bunny on it, her green eyes round, she looked sad and scared. I reached for her hand.

  “What is it, sweetie?” I asked, feeling guilty. Had my own problems been so much on my mind that I’d neglected her? “Did you have nightmares?”

  “It isn’t that,” she countered, coming and sitting beside me, my arms wrapped loosely round her shoulders. “It’s the man at Auntie Skyler’s farm.”

  “What about him?” I asked. I could see something weighing heavily on my daughter’s face and I needed to know what it was.

  “You were being all weird, and you’re never like that,” my daughter said. “I tried to talk to you three times, and you never even heard me! Even Auntie Skyler gave up trying to get your attention off him. You were just staring at him like…” she shrugged. “Like he was a movie star or something.”

  “Well, he is an actor,” I began, feeling a wry smile twist my lips. My daughter snorted.

  “You see? There you are again. Weird.” She pulled a face.

  “Okay, I admit it,” I sighed after a long moment, during which my daughter went stiff and moved away from me delicately. “I am being weird.”

  “You are,” she agreed.

  “I know I’m being weird, Amelia,” I said gently. “But there are a lot of things going on right now that are grown up things I need to deal with. I’m sorry you feel like I’m being different.�
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  “I just want things to be like they were,” Amelia said desperately.

  “I know, sweetness,” I whispered, taking her hands. Stonily, she allowed me to squeeze her fingers, making no reaction. “When I can tell you more, I promise I will. But for now?” I paused, wondering what I could possibly say to reach through her stony silence. “Trust me, huh?”

  She sniffed. “I will try. Promise.”

  “Thank you.” I blinked back my own tears, not wanting to burden her with how sad I was feeling. “I’ll try to be like before.”

  “Thank you, mommy,” she said sincerely. She squeezed my fingers back and I felt my heart soar.

  “I know I must look silly to you,” I elaborated. “No, mommy,” she protested. “You don’t look silly. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “It’s true,” I snorted, feeling sorry for myself. “But I promise I’ll do better. Huh? Just trust me.”

  “Okay.”

  She was silent for a while. After I was just starting to wonder if she’d fallen asleep beside me, she stirred.

  “Can I ask you something?” she said.

  I tensed. “Sure, honey,” I said, remembering my promise. “Anything.”

  “Why were you and that man watching me all day?”

  Her eyes, when I looked down into them, were deeply troubled. I realized how strange it must have seemed, having us both stare at her.

  Because he’s your father, I wanted to whisper, and hold her tightly. Because, somehow, I think he senses it, though I can’t tell.

  “Because you’re kind of fantastic, Millie,” I said instead, grinning at her in a manner I hoped seemed playfully. “You should get used to people staring, you know.”

  She let out her breath in a sigh. I felt the relief enter her small frame. I could have cried for relief, too. It was good to finally have things straight between us. We sat silently awhile, and I really thought that that time she had fallen fast asleep. I stirred, trying slowly to inch myself away from her when she sat up.

  “Mommy?” she fixed me with a tired gaze. She was smiling, though, which was an impossible joy.