Delinquent Daddy

by Linda Kage

  Pulling away so he could see her perfect, heart-shaped face, he wiped at the corner of his eye and sent her a watery smile.

  "It's nice to finally meet you," he said, hoping she wouldn't notice how nervous he was, how his hands shook, or how sweat gathered on his brow. When he straightened, her head fell back as she gaped up.

  "You're tall." She took a step back to study him. Boston opened his arms to give her an unrestricted view, suddenly uncertain with his body, wondering if she'd find him lacking or—

  "Are you rich?" she asked, taking in his tie and jacket.

  Boston cringed. Why hadn't he changed out of his work clothes before coming? He'd left straight from EarthNet, wondering why he'd even bothered to go in at all. Sure, he had a pile of projects to finish, but he hadn't gotten any work done. Now he wished he'd changed into something more—

  God, what did dads wear?

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  "Ah..." He cleared his throat, not sure how to answer. He didn't want to look pompous and brag about how well off he was, but—

  "Are you married?" she broke in, obviously thinking he'd taken too long to answer. "Do I have any brothers or sisters?"

  "No," he said, glancing quickly at Ellie and hoping she didn't think it was because of her he'd remained single. "I'm not married, and you don't have any brothers or sisters."

  "Where do you live?" Cassie went on, not even taking the time to digest his answers.

  Feeling as if he were in an interview, Boston wiped his damp palms on his pant leg. "I live in Kansas City. Er, actually Overland Park."

  "Kansas City?" She gaped, her eyes widening. "That place is enormous. Mom took me there once to see some Christmas lights in this really long mall."

  He grinned.

  "Do you have a Nintendo Wii?"

  The unexpected and abrupt change of subject made him blink. "Ah, no. No Nintendo Wii." He hoped that wasn't the wrong answer, because, hell, if it made this little angel happy, he'd buy six of them.

  But his daughter didn't seem to care one way or another.

  "My friend Keller has one," she said conversationally. "When his mom bought it, he gave me his old Xbox."

  "I don't have an Xbox either," he murmured.

  Cassie's eyes went huge with disbelief. "Really?"

  He managed a smile. "Back in my day, there was only a regular PlayStation. And the basic Nintendo."

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  "Wow, you're really old then, aren't you?" Cassie grabbed his hand. "Hey, want to play on my Xbox? I just got this totally awesome Pokemon game. It's sweet."

  Boston lifted his eyebrows. Sweet? Man, he must be old.

  Whatever happened to awesome, and cool, and far out?

  When he realized Cassie was waiting for a response, he panicked. His daughter expected him to play a video game with her. He hadn't played one of those things in years. He'd probably be so rusty, he'd die on the first level...if they even had levels anymore.

  "How about I watch you play instead?" he suggested.

  "You don't want to play with me?" she asked, her eyes going large with disappointment.

  Boston's heart turned over. The mere thought of letting her down made his breathing catch. "You'll have to show me how," he started. "I don't know—"

  "Okay," Cassie said cheerfully. She grabbed his hand and led him down the hall toward her room. He followed willingly, glancing back once to check how Ellie was dealing with this.

  She watched her daughter with a slight smile. Then she lifted a hand to her eye but dropped it quickly when she caught Boston's gaze.

  He turned back to Cassie.

  "It's real easy," she was saying as they entered a lavender room edged with a pastel-flowered border. Out of his element, he faltered. But Cassidy looked right at home as she flopped onto a beanbag chair in front of an ancient television and turned on the power, all the while constantly explaining the game.

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  As she chattered, Boston settled onto the floor beside her and tried to listen to her instructions, though he was too busy staring at her to soak in the rules. She really did look like the pictures he'd seen of his mother at this age. It was remarkable. She was so pretty...and intelligent. He just couldn't believe something so completely perfect had come from his loins.

  As they started the Pokemon game, Boston learned tidbits of her life, such as the fact that Nora Young was Keller's mother and babysat for Cassie when Ellie was at work. From his daughter's continued gossip, he guessed Nora had been the nosy neighbor he'd already met.

  From just listening, he also discovered Ellie was a paralegal who worked for Keller's uncle. That information surprised him. He couldn't see Ellie working for a lawyer.

  She'd always acted so disgusted by the profession. Or maybe she'd been disgusted by Boston's drive to become one himself. He'd put law school before her, and that had never settled well.

  He shifted uneasily and focused on Cassie. His daughter liked to talk, which was fine with him. He was too nervous to speak anyway.

  The one thing that truly surprised him about her, though, was her ability to touch. Physical contact was something he distinctly remembered about Ellie...or rather the lack thereof.

  Touching had never come easily for Elora Trenton, and it had only made Boston want to put his hands on her all that much more. As one who'd been overwhelmed with a close-knit family, Boston had been crowded by parents, cousins, aunts, 72

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  uncles and his four siblings. He'd been handled to the point he'd always sought space and privacy.

  So, realizing Ellie wasn't used to her personal room being breached had been very strange to him. And it never failed to fill him with the urge to invade. He'd felt it was his duty to be the one to teach her the simple enjoyment of holding hands and giving massages, making Eskimo kisses, butterfly kisses, French kisses.

  He could still remember the first moment she'd voluntarily reached for him. It had thrilled him enough to haul her off to the first available private spot and take her against the wall of a public park's bathroom. But God, he'd loved touching Ellie.

  He used to spend hours just stroking his fingers over—

  Not that this had anything to do with their child. Boston was merely surprised Cassidy was so big on touching. She had no qualms about it whatsoever, in fact. She crawled all over him like a little monkey. She automatically set her hand on his knee when she leaned forward; she unconsciously bumped his elbow; she braced her fingers on his shoulder when she stood.

  She was constantly touching him, and he loved it. For a man who had always craved more room, he only wanted to move closer to Cassidy. It was just like it'd been with her mother. He couldn't seem to get near enough to those Trenton girls.

  It struck him then that Cassidy's ability to touch had probably come indirectly from him. He'd taught Ellie how to get up-close and personal, and she'd in turn passed the 73

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  learned contact on to her daughter. The thought made him feel better.

  Yeah, he might've missed nine years, but a part of him made it to Cassie anyway—a realization that unwillingly brought his mind back to her mother. Ellie obviously didn't hold the fact that Cassie was his daughter against the girl.

  She was a good parent, and she loved and provided for her child despite the child's paternity.

  All that made him even more curious about the woman Elora had become.

  Ellie waited until ten thirty before she approached Cassie's bedroom. All evening, she paced the kitchen, hoping she hadn't made a mistake by not immediately kicking Boston out of the house after meeting Cassie—or God, even letting him inside in the first place.

  But the deep sounds of his laughter mixed with Cassidy's higher-pitched voice kept float
ing down the hall, telling her how pleased her daughter was. And though Ellie still wanted to pack two bags as soon as he was gone and move her and Cassie to Oklahoma in the middle of the night, she was glad Cass could have this moment she'd wanted for so long.

  It was time for the "moment" to end though. An hour and a half past Cassie's bedtime and five hours past the moment she'd wanted Boston out of there, Ellie inched toward her daughter's room.

  Holding her breath, she tapped cautiously on the door as she opened it.

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  Two pair of blue eyes glanced up at her and, for a moment, she couldn't breathe. They looked so much like each other.

  "Uhh..." Feeling regretful for interrupting, she hesitated.

  Biting her lip, she said, "Cassie usually goes to bed at nine.

  And...and she has school tomorrow."

  Boston glanced at his Rolex, blinking. "Wow. I didn't realize it was so late."

  As he stood, Cassidy clamped her arms around his legs.

  "Don't go!" she begged. "Please, oh, please don't go."

  "I...I'm sorry, I can't stay," he told her, looking bowled over by the idea his daughter wanted him to stick around.

  "You have to go to school tomorrow, and I have work.

  Besides, I have to drive all the way back to Kansas City tonight."

  "Where exactly do you live?" Cassie asked, looking curious.

  Unable to watch their goodbye, Ellie stepped into the hall and quietly closed the door.

  "...well, that's not so far away," Cassie said.

  Boston reached out and sat his hand on her hair. "Not so far at all," he agreed softly. He could visit her just about every day at this distance. "Well, I guess this is goodbye," he said, noticing—in his peripheral vision—that Ellie had slipped back out of the room to give them a private farewell.

  Reaching down, he scooped Cassie up, making her eyes go big.

  "Cool!" she said. "Mom can't lift me like this anymore."

  Boston grinned and gave her an encompassing hug. Cassie wrapped her arms and legs around him, hugging him back.

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  "When will I see you again?" she asked.

  "Whenever you want."

  "Tomorrow," she decided.

  He nodded. "I could do that."

  "Could we go to Chuck E. Cheese's?"

  "If you'd like," he answered on a chuckle as he smoothed his hand over her hair again, still amazed he had a daughter.

  He was touching his daughter.

  "Then I want to go to Chuck E. Cheese's," she said.

  So it was set.

  He was whipped.

  Boston could already tell he was going to be one of those soft fathers who spoiled their little princess rotten. And he was going to love every second of it.

  After tucking her under the sheets and kissing her forehead, he slipped out of Cassie's darkened room and saw a shadow of movement down the hall, coming from the kitchen.

  Ellie.

  His mouth went dry, but he started that way, wondering what he was going to say to her. Instinctively, he wanted to thank her. He wanted to show her his appreciation for her help in easing his way into Cassie's life tonight. He was glad she'd given him some time alone with their child. But then he figured she damn well better have...since it was her fault he didn't know Cassie in the first place.

  He also wanted to yell at her, cuss her out for keeping him from that adorable, smart, remarkable little girl. He had a daughter, and he'd been absent from nine years of her life...because of Ellie. He wanted to hate her as much as he 76

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  wanted to share this magical moment with her. He had this strange urge to go into the kitchen, sit down and tell her about all these amazing feelings surging through him.

  Boston didn't give into any of his urges, however. Instead, he stopped in the opening of the kitchen and paused.

  She sat at the table where it looked like she was paying bills. Though he was curious just how well—or not so well—

  she was doing financially, he stayed rooted in the doorway.

  Ellie slipped off a pair of reading glasses that made her look sexily astute. The wary gaze she sent him, however, reminded him how they weren't friends and how he shouldn't be thinking of her cute button nose or large brown eyes.

  He didn't want to be attracted. He was still mad at her.

  Yet, unable to forget the physical relationship they'd once shared, he ached with hungry nostalgia.

  "I'm heading out," he said.

  She nodded and rested her elbows on the tabletop.

  He couldn't seem to move and just stood there, staring at her for another moment.

  "Some time," he started, "we're going to have to get together and talk about custody."

  Ellie's face drained of color. But she didn't say anything.

  She merely turned back to her work, ignoring him.

  Realizing he'd outstayed his welcome—not that there'd been one from her anyway—he tipped his head in farewell and backed away from the room.

  Well...he was a father now. He had a little girl who was absolutely perfect. He hadn't realized he'd been nervous over 77

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  what she'd be like until the relief over having a smart, cute, well-behaved daughter swamped him.

  Ellie had done an excellent job raising her.

  Ellie.

  Boston lifted a hand and pressed his palm to the side of his aching head. God, he didn't want to think about her too.

  There was too much other stuff going on right now, though he had to admit the last ten years had been kind to her in the looks department. Very kind. She'd been pretty at nineteen, but at...what would she be now...twenty-nine? Thirty?

  Whatever. The fact remained, she was gorgeous.

  Catching her stripping in the kitchen hadn't deterred that conclusion either. Ten years...and his body had still reacted like the horny twenty-two-year-old he'd been so long ago when he'd stepped into the doorway and found her with her shirt off and her arms over her head.

  Oh yeah, she'd definitely aged nicely. Her breasts specifically.

  Boston had accidentally overheard two of his sisters discussing their breasts after having children. One had complained that hers had shrunk and another was bemoaning the fact that she'd only gotten bigger. Though Boston had booked it out of the room as soon as he'd stumbled across such a conversation—hell no, he didn't want to hear about his sisters' breasts—their words had left a distinct, lasting memory.

  And when he'd seen Ellie all shirtless and inviting, he thought, oh yeah, she'd gotten bigger after having Cassie. He would definitely know, too. Once upon a time, he'd imprinted 78

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  every inch of her body into his brain. And her boobs had not been that full ten years ago. These days they'd probably fill his hands to overflowing.

  Boston let out an aggravated groan. He'd wanted to test his theory. He'd wanted to stroll over to her, tug that shirt right back off, and cover her with his hungry fingers. He missed her body more than he'd ever missed anything, no matter how much he denied it.

  He'd also wanted to give her a disdainful look and mutter something nasty like, "Not interested," or, "Been there, done that." But his mouth had been too dry to say anything, so he'd settled for a snort and forced himself to turn away like he didn't want to bury himself inside her for old time's sake.

  As he'd moved off, he'd come across pictures and graded papers on the refrigerator. Instantly, his mind had returned to the right track.

  Cassidy.

  He was there for Cassie. Not Ellie. Never Ellie. He'd burned the Ellie bridge, then he'd set the whole damn forest on fire so another could never be rebuilt in its place. And then he'd gone and flooded the banks between them. There was no
way, no how, he'd ever cross back over. Too much pain and anger and hurt had filled their last few weeks together.

  Yet, from the rubble of their ruined relationship, an amazing child had emerged.

  Except for those few weeks when he was about to be a daddy, he hadn't thought about having his own child. And back then, he'd been too freaked out to think much at all.

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  Now, however, his mind whirled. He was a father. He had a daughter. And he wanted her.

  Already thinking up a contract for parental rights, Boston turned down his street. Tomorrow, he'd have to research custody and child support. God, he probably owed a fortune in child support. He was going to have to calculate that and be prepared in case Ellie fought back. Still deep in thought, he pulled into his drive and sucked in a breath, slamming on the brakes when he found his way blocked.

  Damn, he should've expected this. Half a dozen cars—none his own—crowded into his half-circle drive. His parents', his brother's, Cameron and Olivia's automobile, along with all his sisters' cars sat waiting for him.

  As he parked behind his parents' Dodge Avenger, the front door of his house opened and the hoard spilled out, making him regret ever giving anyone a spare key.

  Staying in his Infiniti a moment after killing the engine, Boston closed his eyes and wondered briefly why he couldn't have been born an orphan. He didn't want company right now. He didn't want all the questions and concerns. He just wanted to lock himself inside his house and quietly digest the evening he'd just spent with Cassie...and Ellie.

  But no, there was no way that was going to happen. Not with his family. His door was pulled open and Olivia's voice immediately asked, "Is she yours?"

  A dozen people crowded the opened space as he blew out a lungful of air and climbed from the driver's seat. Someone shut the door behind him, and he studied the quiet, expectant faces. It was after midnight, but no one seemed concerned 80

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  about the time...or even tired for that matter. His yard lamp spotlighted them, and he could tell they were all going to get about as much sleep tonight as he was, which was absolutely zilch.