by Sabrina York
But it was Lizzie’s job to protect her child. The last thing she wanted to do was set her up for disappointment. If she told Emma she might have found a potential donor, and then Danny wasn’t a match, well, that would be more than a disappointment. It would be a disaster.
Somehow, telling her that Danny was her father seemed like less of a risk. As nerve-racking as that thought was.
Through tangled emotions, Lizzie had to admit that she wasn’t sure if she was more frightened of Emma’s heartbreak, or her own.
She tamped down her fears and sucked in a deep breath. “You know I went away for a few days.”
“Yes. Where did you go?”
“I went to a little town called Butterscotch Ridge.”
Emma’s eyes crinkled. “I like butterscotch.”
“It’s a little town in eastern Washington. Over the mountains. Here. Look.” She pulled out her phone’s map. “We’re here, in Seattle. I went here.”
Her daughter glanced at the map, then took Lizzie’s hand and inspected her nail polish. “Why did you go there?”
“I, um...” This was harder than she’d imagined. Might as well just blurt it out. “I went to find your father.” There. She’d said it. She looked at Emma and swallowed heavily.
How she wished her daughter didn’t need to wear that blasted mask. It would be nice, at this moment, to be able to gauge her whole expression, not just the eyes.
Emma stilled. Stared at her. “The sperm donor?”
“Ah, yes.” Lizzie swallowed an incongruous laugh. “He doesn’t like that title.”
“So you found him?” Her daughter’s voice was hushed, tight.
“I did.”
“And... Does he want to meet me?”
Lizzie took a shuddering breath. Of course, that was the question swirling in her tiny little head.
“Yes. He wants to meet you. Why wouldn’t he? You’re perfect.”
“No, I’m not. Did you tell him I’m sick?” Emma leaped to her feet and began to pace. “What if he doesn’t want a sick daughter? What if I’m not good enough for him to stay? What if—?”
“Oh, sweetie.” Lizzie caught Emma and pulled her into a tight hug. “He knows you’re sick. He wants to help.”
Emma’s brow rumpled. “How can he help? Is he a doctor?”
“No. No. Not a doctor. But he has agreed to get a bone-marrow test. You know. To see if he can give you healthy cells for your body to grow.”
Emma plopped back down on the sofa. “So,” she said after a moment. “I have a dad. A real dad?”
“Yes.” Lizzie took her hand. “You do.”
“What’s his name?”
“Danny.”
“Danny.” Emma tasted the word. “What do I call him, though?”
What would she call him? Lizzie had no clue. This was all uncharted territory. “Perhaps you can ask him that when he comes to see you.”
Emma’s head whipped around. “He’s coming?” she asked in a squeal that only five-year-old ears could tolerate. No doubt all the dogs in Seattle started howling inexplicably. “He’s coming here?” She leaped up and danced around, and then checked her reflection in the glass. “Oh, my gosh. What will I wear? Does he like Minnie Mouse? I have to clean my room.” She dropped back onto the sofa and stared at Lizzie with an intensity that reminded her of how Emma had been...before she got sick. “When? When will he be here?”
Oh, dear. Her daughter was...excited. Lizzie wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or terrified. Nothing disappointed like expectation. Especially when it came to men. At least, that was her experience. “He’ll be here tomorrow.” Tomorrow. Goodness. The time had flown by.
“Tomorrow?” That squeal again. “We need to hurry.” She grabbed Lizzie’s hand and towed her toward the bedrooms. “We need to get ready. Everything has to be perfect.”
“Perfect?”
“Yes.” Emma leveled a too-serious look on Lizzie. “We need to make sure my daddy loves me.”
Her gut clenched. How on earth did she respond to that? “Of course, he loves you.” Who wouldn’t love her?
But she couldn’t silence the questions that plagued her. Sure, her interaction with Danny had seemed to go well. He’d seemed to be excited about meeting Emma. But this was real life. This was scary real life.
Who knew how long he’d stay? Once he realized how hard life with a sick child could be?
How long would it be before he left them?
How long would it be until he broke both their hearts?
* * *
Danny made the drive to Seattle on Tuesday in a blur. He barely noticed the change of scenery as he left the eastern desert and drove into the mountain passes, and then into the cool, lush green forests of western Washington. He did notice the rain, though. It hit as he passed North Bend and continued all the way to Seattle.
The weather seemed to mirror his anxiety, which grew with each passing mile marker, reminding him that he was coming closer and closer to his destination, to his daughter and Lizzie.
He worried whether Emma would accept him, to be sure, but thoughts of Lizzie bubbled deep, as well.
Memories of their time together taunted him.
He remembered her touch. Her kiss. The sweet smell of her as she slept in his arms. He had ached for her, for years, though he’d worked hard to convince himself he didn’t care. And now?
He couldn’t wait to see her again. And he was terrified at the same time. Because that longing was tinged with frustration and hurt that she’d kept the truth from him about their daughter for five long years—time that he longed to make up...if he was lucky enough to get a second chance.
Before he knew it, his GPS directed him into the parking garage of her building. The tall modern structure that seemed to be made of glass faced Elliott Bay.
After he found a parking spot, he took a minute to sanitize his hands and pull on a mask—because everything he’d read made clear any exposure to germs could make Emma ill. Then he headed to the elevator. It was thickly carpeted, with mirrored walls. He tried not to look at himself as he glided to the tenth floor, but then, at the last minute, he realized he should check his reflection. Indeed, he had a rooster tail, which he hurriedly smoothed down.
The walk from the elevator to Lizzie’s condo seemed to take forever. And then, once he arrived, he sucked in a deep breath before he knocked.
This was it. This was the moment he would meet his daughter. Finally.
His heart stopped as Lizzie opened the door. She was so beautiful, he just wanted to stand there and take her in for a moment. As he languished in that momentary daze, and with no preamble, she gave each of his hands a squirt of Purell.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Emma has a low tolerance for germs. We try to keep her exposure at a minimum.”
“I know that. I sanitized in the car.”
“Did you push the buttons in the elevator?” she asked brusquely.
Heat rose on his cheeks. To cover it up, he rubbed his hands together, trying to make sure the gel was thoroughly absorbed. “Nice place,” he said after a quick glance around. The apartment was sleek and roomy, and had a nice view. It was also spotless.
“Thanks. It’s Nan’s condo.” She crossed into the kitchen to set the sanitizer on the counter. He hated that her tone was so casual. As though he was just dropping by for coffee or something. They’d lived together for several years. They’d been intimate. They’d been a couple. Now they were...strangers. He hated it.
“You’re living with Nan?” Though he’d heard about her, they’d never met.
“Mmm-hmm. We’ve all lived here, well, since I left Vegas.”
“It’s nice.” Damn. He’d already said that.
“There’s three bedrooms. Emma and I are over here.” She pointed to the right.
“Nan’s in the master.” To the left, apparently.
“It’s so...clean.”
“We keep it tidy. For Emma.” A reminder, on a deeper level, that Emma was different. “How was your drive?”
He shrugged. “It rained once I crossed the mountains.”
She gave a little laugh. “That does happen.”
“Since my car broke down, my brother Mark let me borrow his truck.” He glanced around the sterile condo. “Um, is Emma here?”
“She’s with Nan, getting an infusion. They’ll be here soon. I thought you and I could talk privately first. You know, set some boundaries.”
His mood took a nosedive. He didn’t like the boundaries idea at all, but he nodded. He wanted—no, needed—to make this easy for her, even if it cost him. “All right.”
“Shall we sit?” She waved at the sofa and he complied, though it felt wrong, sitting there on her sofa as she took a seat on the other side of the coffee table. Too far away, he thought, for the conversation they were to have.
He shoved that thought from his mind and laced his fingers together, trying to think of something to say. He wasn’t sure why it was so difficult now, when back in Butterscotch Ridge, they’d been chattering like magpies.
“So,” he finally said. “You said something about boundaries?”
“Oh. Um. Yes.” She brushed back her auburn hair and he watched it fall over her shoulders. God, she was pretty, even though she wore a mask, even though there were worry lines on her forehead and her eyes crinkled when she smiled. How he wished she would smile now. “Not restrictions, per se. I just wanted to ask you to...”
When she hesitated, he prompted her. “Yes?”
“I just... Oh, how do I say this? Could you please...take it slow with her?”
Take it slow? What the hell did that mean? Was Lizzie expecting him to act like a random stranger, some...sperm donor, when he met his own daughter? He didn’t really understand the anger building in him, but he recognized the feeling of being sidelined.
“Does she even know I’m her...father?” He didn’t know why the word caught in his throat.
She nodded, and he nearly collapsed in relief. “I’ve told her. And that you’re planning to be tested.” Her eyes narrowed. “You are still planning to do that, aren’t you?”
“Of course. I’ve already made an appointment. Tomorrow, in fact.”
She lurched back and gaped at him as though he’d sprouted a third eye. “You have?”
The incredulity in her tone slayed him. “I said I would. Did you think I would flake?” But even as he asked, he knew. He knew, because flaking was what the old Danny did best. But that was why he was here—to prove to her that everything was different. That he was different. “I have changed, you know.”
“I know. I know. I... Thank you, Danny. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
His blood froze. “Let’s get something straight. I’m not doing you a favor. She’s my daughter, too. And I care about what happens to her.”
A flush rose on her cheeks, but before she had a chance to retort—thank God, because this was not going well—they heard the sound of the key in the lock. The clicks filled the room like a live wire. Danny’s blood fizzled and his back went ramrod-straight. His attention whipped to the door, and he stared, breathless and terrified and hopeful all at once.
The door swung open and Emma appeared. His gaze locked on her. He had the impression of a small sprite with a tumble of black curls that looked just like the ones he’d had as a kid. She wore a mask decorated with mice wearing colorful hair bows. It bothered Danny that the mask covered most of her face. Only her eyes were visible, and they were wide and pinned on him.
“Come on in, Emma,” Lizzie said when she seemed to hesitate.
“Go ahead, sweetie,” the woman behind her encouraged. She had to be Lizzie’s sister. They looked alike, except for the color of their hair.
“Danny,” Nan said with a curt nod, then she headed straight to her bedroom to give them privacy, which was decent of her. Because who knew how this would go?
Emma stepped toward him. When she came close, she tipped her head and studied him from one angle and then another.
His pulse pounded. His lungs burned. She was perfect. Perfect. He longed to sweep her up into his arms and hug her, but he knew it was far too soon for such a gesture. He was a stranger to her. And he didn’t want to frighten her. Aside from that, she was sick. And yeah, she was pale and far too frail for the hungry hug he wanted to give her.
“Hi,” he said, even though he knew such a greeting was utterly absurd and wholly inadequate for the circumstance of such a meeting.
She tipped her head again and her eyes narrowed. “So you’re my daddy,” she said in a matter-of-fact, far too grown-up voice.
He cleared his throat in an attempt to swallow a sudden knot. “I, ah, am. How do you...feel about that?”
Her tiny shoulder lifted. Then she said, “I want to see your face.”
Oh, hell. Of course she did. Not knowing the protocol here, he glanced at Lizzie, who nodded subtly. Danny sucked in a deep breath and pulled down his mask. He let her study him as long as he could hold his breath, then he raised the mask again and gasped for air.
She seemed impressed. At least he imagined she did. And then she said, “If you’re my daddy, where have you been?”
And, yeah, his heart clenched.
Lizzie, to her credit, leaned forward and said, “Remember? We talked about this. He didn’t know about you, honey.”
Emma’s attention never left his face. “Why did you leave us?”
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t, not exactly.” When Emma’s probing gaze sharpened, he quickly added, “I wasn’t ready to be a good dad. I guess I needed time to learn how to do the job right.”
Emma considered this for a moment and then asked, “Well? Are you ready now?”
Hell. Was he? He decided on the truth. “I want to be ready.” God, did he! “But I don’t know anything about being a parent.” He stared into her eyes. “Would you be willing to...teach me?”
Those eyes, so like his own, widened. He wished he could see more of her face, but the mask obstructed most of it. A sly crinkle at the corners of her eyes gave him a clue to her thoughts, though. “Are you a fast learner?” she asked.
He blinked. “Um, well, sure.”
“Do you like ice cream?”
“Ice cream? I’m all for it.” Hey, maybe this would be easier than he thought.
“Every day?”
He gulped. “Well...” He glanced at Lizzie, but she was just watching. Possibly biting her cheek to keep from laughing. No help there. “I like it a lot, but I don’t think I would want to eat it every day.”
Emma’s gaze narrowed until her lashes nearly fanned her cheeks. “We’ll have to work on that.”
And he couldn’t help it. He threw back his head and laughed. At that moment, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was utterly, head-over-heels in love with his daughter.
Chapter Six
Danny stayed and had dinner with them that night at Emma’s insistence.
Emma also insisted on pizza, which wasn’t a treat Lizzie allowed very often because Emma’s foods needed to be nutrient dense. But, as Emma proclaimed, this was a special occasion. Lizzie found she unexpectedly enjoyed Danny’s presence in the family circle. She especially enjoyed his awkwardness with this new role. It was fun watching the confident man she remembered stumble to find answers to Emma’s unending questions.
Yes, it was awkward at first, but as they warmed up to each other from six feet apart—specifically as Nan warmed up to Danny and set aside her veil of distrust—the meal became more comfortable. Even fun.
It was a lot more difficult for Lizzie to watch Emma and Danny bonding. Not because it wasn’t a beautiful
thing. It was. But it reminded her of just how much he’d missed. And whose fault it was.
The guilt forced her into silence.
Fortunately, those two didn’t need anyone else to share an animated conversation, which, at this moment, centered on the probability that unicorns could have evolved from horses. It was adorable to watch, but painful, too. It was clear Emma adored her father. And it was clear he already felt the same.
She wasn’t losing Emma, she reminded herself, even though, on some level, it felt that way. If anything, this change would enrich their lives and possibly save Emma from a lot of pain. But that was hard to hold on to as her limbic brain went into protective overdrive.
And then, there was the other concern, the one bubbling at the back of her brain ever since she’d seen Danny again at the B&G and her body had sparked at his nearness.
It had been five years since she’d even thought about...sex.
And now, here she was, sitting across the table from the one man who could destroy her composure and resolve, the man who could dissolve all her carefully erected barriers. A glance from him made her heart hitch. His smile made something deep in her belly tingle. His laugh made her limbs warm and loose. At one point, he caught her eye and a zing of excitement careened through her.
Naturally, she looked away. No one should feel this kind of lust at the dinner table with a child in attendance.
“So your appointment is tomorrow?” she blurted.
He nodded. “Ten a.m.”
“And where are you staying?” Nan asked.
Danny blinked. “Well, I...figured I’d find a motel or something.”
Emma’s expression turned pleading. “Can’t he stay here?” She turned to Lizzie with hands clasped. “Please? Please, please, please?”
Lizzie glanced at Nan, but her sister was no help at all. “It does make sense, I guess,” she said with a shrug.
Great. She was outnumbered. She forced a smile, against all her better instincts. “Of course, you can stay here. That is, if you don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”
