My jaw drops open. “Who was he?”
A smile comes over her face. “We had worked together in a restaurant here in LA before I met your father. He too had hopes of making it onto the big screen.”
It wasn’t something my mother had liked to talk about, especially in my father’s presence, but when we were alone, she’d often told me that she had had dreams of being on screen. She’d come to California to become an actress, but it hadn’t worked out for her. She had met my father and devoted her life to him.
“It was easy to find Adrian. He was still working in the same restaurant, and he still had somewhat of a crush on me. It worked as I’d hoped, and when I got pregnant, your father and I joyfully welcomed you into the world.”
My heart pounds crazily in my chest. “Did he continue trying to become an actor?” I ask my mother.
A soft smile comes to her face. “Oh yes. I had no doubt that Adrian would make it. He had a single-mindedness that I only ever saw in one other person. You.”
I know one actor called Adrian. My hands become clammy as it dawns on me that he could be my father. I do resemble him, I think. I know now that he’s retired and lives somewhere on a ranch.
“Is it Adrian Martin?” I ask her.
She nods.
“And you never told him that he had a son?” I ask her.
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Of course not! I wasn’t doing it for him. I was doing it for your father and me.”
Chapter 35
Grace
I look from Kyle to his mother, and I’m at a loss for words. My heart goes out to Kyle. I want to gather him in my arms and hold him tight. I can’t imagine how painful it must be to be told that the man you thought was your father all your life is, in fact, not your father.
Kyle covers his face with his hands and then drops them. He stares at his mother as if trying to understand her. She doesn’t seem to realize the magnitude of what she has dumped on her son in the space of fewer than five minutes.
Adrian Martin. Everyone knows him, even I, who doesn’t follow celebrity news. The more I think about it, the more I see the resemblance between Mr. Martin and Kyle before his accident.
I move from my position on the couch to where Kyle is seated and sit down next to him.
“He never knew that he had a son?” Kyle asks his mother.
“The only person who could have told him was me, and I didn’t,” his mother says casually as though it’s totally reasonable not to inform a man that he has sired a child.
My heart expands painfully at the expression of loneliness and confusion on Kyle’s face.
Kyle stands up abruptly. “We have to go.”
His mother looks momentarily confused. “So soon? I was hoping we could have dinner together and catch up.”
I’m stunned at the complete lack of comprehension on her part.
“Another time, Mom. I have a lot to process today. You just turned my whole world upside down, and I need time to deal with it.”
She stands up with a look of concern. “I’d always promised myself that I would tell you the truth if your father died before me. I know he was mean to you, and it wasn’t fair for you to keep wondering why your own father would behave that way toward his only son. I hope I made the right decision.” She twists her hands together and looks at Kyle pleadingly. Whatever she did in the past, the one clear thing is that she loves Kyle. She just loved her husband a little bit more.
“It’s fine, Mom,” Kyle says, sounding tired and defeated.
We don’t speak all the way home, and when we enter the house and shut the door behind us, he pulls me into his arms and cries on my shoulder. My heart breaks into a million pieces as I hold him tight. There’s absolutely nothing I can do to take the pain away. He slowly gets his emotions under control, and I take his hand and lead him to the living room.
“I’ll be back,” I tell him.
In the drink cabinet in the formal dining room, I get a bottle of whiskey, ice cubes, and two glasses. I carry them to the living room and pour both of us a drink. Kyle takes his gratefully and drains it in one gulp.
I pour him another one.
“I’m an adult. Such news should not affect me,” he says. “But it does. I feel as if the rug has been pulled from under my feet. Or like a boat at sea with no compass for navigation.”
“Our parents give us our sense of identity,” I tell him softly.
“The moment she said it, though, it made sense. So much fell into place. I sensed that my father didn’t like me, let alone love me, and I couldn’t figure out why. I provided them with a lifestyle that made them the envy of all their friends. They took vacations whenever they wanted.”
The anguish in his voice wants me to hold him again, but I know that he needs to talk. It’s painful to listen to, but it’s not about me now. He needs me, and I have to be strong for him.
“Does it help to know that you did your best and treated him the way a son would and should?” I ask him.
“I guess so. I’m glad I never found out when he was alive. I don’t think I can mourn for him. I have absolutely no good memories of him.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” I feel so helpless.
“It’s fine. I’m glad the mystery has been solved, albeit too late,” Kyle says.
“It’s not too late. Your biological father is still alive,” I point out to him.
A stricken look comes over his features. I know what the problem is. That is one problem that I’m very familiar with. A fear of rejection.
“My mother should have been the one to tell him.”
“But she didn’t, and now, because you know the truth, you should tell him.” I can tell from the look on Kyle’s face what the answer will be.
“I think my years of needing a father are gone. I don’t need him, and I doubt that Adrian Martin needs his life upset by learning that he has an adult son.”
“I wonder if he ever got married?” I say, trying to search my memory bank.
“I don’t think so. Last I heard, he was happily retired in some ranch in Southern California.”
I don’t voice my thoughts, but I think any man would be happy to learn they sired a son. Even if not, he deserves to know and have the opportunity to choose whether he wants to get to know him or not.
***
I tag along with Kyle in the next few days as he helps his mother make a myriad of decisions about the funeral. The funeral director is a wonderful woman named Elizabeth, and she makes the process as smooth as she can.
“Do you think your father would like it if we sang a few hymns?” Kyle’s mother asks him and stares at her blankly.
It turns out that neither of them knows whether he likes hymns, and so they settle for two of them. I never knew what a nightmare it is when someone dies. You have to choose a casket, readings for the service, flowers, and a myriad of other things.
I admire Kyle because he could easily have sent his PA to do it, but he chose to be there personally to support his mother. I try my best but seeing as I did not know the man, I can’t really offer much input apart from just being present.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Bryce,” I tell her while hugging her when she breaks down for the third time that day.
When she stops crying, she looks at me as if noticing me for the first time. “You’re a wonderful girl. Please call me Lilly; after all, I’m going to be your mother-in-law soon.”
My face heats up at her bluntness. Thankfully, the funeral director asks something else, and that moment passes.
After we are done, Kyle’s mother is tired and distraught, and she just wants to go home. Ethan drives her home first. She’s sitting in the front passenger seat, and before she gets out of the car, she turns back to address Kyle.
“I forgot to tell you. Adrian called me last night to convey his condolences. I thought it was a sweet gesture.”
Silence follows her declaration.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says and
gets out of the car.
Kyle’s breathing changes. We are both shellshocked at Lilly’s casual announcement. I glance at Kyle, but his facial expression is unreadable. I feel a headache coming on, and it’s not even my decision to make.
At home, we both head to the shower, and in an unspoken agreement, we get into the shower together. We stand under the jets of warm water, holding each other tightly without speaking. Then Kyle cups my face and kisses me as if he’s almost drowning and I’m the plank of wood that is keeping him afloat.
I run my hands over his chest and shoulders, my need for him growing with every second. His hands drop to my hips and ass, pulling me against him. His cock sits between us, hard as steel. My legs tremble as arousal takes hold of me, and my body comes alive from his touch.
“I need you so badly,” Kyle murmurs in between kisses.
“I’m here.”
He cups my breasts and teases my nipples with his fingers, pinching and palming them. I can feel his need for me, and knowing what he needs, I turn around and place my hands flat on the wall, inviting him to take me.
Kyle grips my hips and pulls me back toward him, and the next thing I feel is his tongue teasing my clit. It’s so unexpected and erotic that I start to orgasm a few seconds later.
“Spread your legs, sweetheart,” he growls.
I moan as he rubs the head of his cock up and down my slit, teasing my clit and making me beg for it. I want him inside me with a powerful need that frightens me.
“Please, Kyle.”
He grunts in reply, but he does as I ask and pushes his cock in, inch by inch. I close my eyes as my walls give in to the pressure, and his cock goes in deeper and deeper. He moves in and out in slow, languid movements. My frustration grows as I try to urge him to move faster with my hips.
“Faster,” I finally say.
He chuckles in response. “You’re a tiger in bed, but no one can tell by looking at you.”
“Call me whatever you want, but do as I say.” My words come out in a pant.
He inhales sharply and grips my hips tighter. He thrusts into me hard and fast, and I cry out every time he buries his cock to the hilt and hits a sensitive spot.
“Oh God, yes,” I cry out.
“You’re so sweet and tight,” Kyle says, his voice rugged.
He keeps up the pace, pounding me deeper and faster. The music in me grows louder and faster. I’m so close. I feel his hand on my clit, rubbing it, and that’s the last straw for me.
My orgasm is loud and explosive. I scream Kyle’s name as it tears through my body. I shake and tremble, and my pussy clenches around Kyle’s cock.
He lets out a series of grunts, and his thrusts become quick jabs.
“Fuck, Grace,” he growls before he comes, flooding me with his release. He pumps through it, and then he comes to a complete stop. He waits for a few seconds and then withdraws his cock and turns me around to face him.
I throw my hands around his neck, and he holds me tight.
“Thank you. I needed that. I needed you,” he whispers into my ear.
“I needed you too,” I say.
We move into the shower spray and wash each other, getting rid of the day’s grime. Then, wrapped in large white towels, we leave the bathroom.
Chapter 36
Kyle
There’s a stir in the church, and my mother, who is seated next to me, stands up. I turn and see him just as he’s making his way to my mother’s side. Adrian Martin. The first thing I notice is how big he is, and the second thing I notice is how much I looked like him before my accident.
He kisses her cheek, shakes my hand as well, and sits down next to my mother. My heart pounds hard in my chest. It all happened so fast and only when he’s seated do I question his presence in my father’s funeral. I know he and my mother were friends, but that was more than thirty years ago. Did she tell him about me? I feel a headache coming on. Grace takes my hand in hers. I resist the urge to turn and look at him.
I keep my gaze focused on the person doing the reading, who happens to be my father’s nephew – a cousin I’ve never met. I’d met very few family members from my father’s side. It was as if he wanted to keep his new family separate from his old one. I knew he had a brother and a sister, but we rarely saw them. My mother had been born an only child, and her parents died when she was in her twenties.
After the service, we make our way to the cemetery accompanied by a throng of paparazzi. The police do their best to keep them at a distance.
The wake is being held at my mother’s house, and Ethan drives Grace and me there after the funeral. My mother is in Adrian Martin’s car, and now I’m convinced he knows something; otherwise, it doesn’t make sense why he would attend the funeral and then the wake. It’s all too much for a man that he did not know.
I’m surprised that my mother kept the invited guests down to a minimum, and there are only ten of us, which is a relief. Grace and I have our coffee and sandwiches in the kitchen, and as we’re relaxing there, Adrian Martin strolls in. Up close, the resemblance to me is even more startling. I notice other things, too, like how he tucks his hands into the pocket of his jeans, the same way I do when I’m nervous.
He smiles at us. “Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting a private moment.”
We assure him that he’s not, and he introduces himself.
“This is my girlfriend, Grace Hughes,” I tell him, glad that we did not shake hands as mine are clammy with sweat. I feel as if I’m on a movie set about to play a role that I haven’t practiced for.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Martin,” Grace says.
“Please call me Adrian. Mr. Martin makes me feel as old as I am,” he says.
Grace laughs, and I manage a small laugh as well. I feel as if I’m looking at an older version of myself. I like that he doesn’t take himself so seriously.
Grace stands. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on something.” She leaves, and the two of us are left alone in my mother’s kitchen.
“Would you like to sit down?” I tell him, gesturing at the stool that Grace just vacated.
“Yes, thank you,” he says. He sits down and lifts his gaze to me. Time is suspended as we study each other.
An odd feeling comes over me as I stare into his penetrating blue eyes, so like my own. It dawns on me that this is, in fact, my father. This is the man who sired me. Joy seeps through me, starting like a small leak from a faucet. Then I notice the tears in his eyes, and any fear I might have felt disappears. He is where I came from. Overwhelming feelings come over me, and tears flood my eyes.
He clears his throat. “Your mother told me.”
I nod. “She told me not too long ago either. It must have come as a shock to you.”
He smiles. “It did. But it was a good surprise. Not having children was my one big regret.”
I’m a grown man, and yet hearing him say that makes me want to bawl like a child. I feel wanted, a feeling I never felt with my stepfather. I feel a sense of belonging.
“I know it’s soon, and I should have waited until after this was over, but I couldn’t,” he says, his voice breaking. “I had to meet you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
It’s odd to be so at ease with a man I’ve only ever seen on the screen and to know that he’s my biological father.
“I’m sorry about the accident. I read about it,” he says.
“I was lucky to get out of it alive.”
And just like that, we talk. Nothing too deep. He tells me that he’s watched some of my work and how he’s always been drawn to me without knowing the reason why. He thought it was just one actor admiring another one in the new generation. We flit from topic to topic. I probe how he feels about my mother keeping such a huge thing from him.
“I was attracted to your mother at the time, but I knew she did not reciprocate my feelings. I also knew when she got married. Sleeping with her knowing that she was married, was wrong on my part, but I
couldn’t help it. I hoped that she was done with her marriage. And then she disappeared, and I tried to put the whole business out of my mind.”
I’m impressed by how calm he is about it all.
“She loved your father and would have done anything for him, including providing him with a son. She did it for him.”
I’m not sure whether I’d have been that forgiving should our roles have been reversed.
“Of course, I would have preferred to have been part of your life from the very beginning, but focusing on that will change nothing. What I would like instead is to be a part of your life now, if you’ll let me?”
***
“I’m glad my mother told him,” I tell Grace later that evening as we’re having an after-dinner glass of wine.
Adrian and I had conversed for close to two hours, and we never ran out of things to talk about. He told me about his life now, which mostly consists of enjoying his ranch—which he invited me to—and his philanthropic organization.
“Which reminds me, he invited you and me to spend the weekend at his ranch. What do you think?” I’m excited at the prospect of getting to know him better.
We may never have a father and son relationship because we’ve found each other a little late for that kind of bonding, but I’m hoping we can become friends.
“I think you’ll go alone for that one,” she says, and on seeing the disappointment on my face, she continues, “I’m a little behind with my work. The show is in two weeks, and I still have two pieces I want to finish up.”
I hit my forehead. “I’m a selfish idiot. Please stay and work. I’ve been so wrapped up in my issues I completely forgot that the date of the show is rapidly approaching.”
One Hot Secret: A Second Chance Romance (Love on Fire) Page 21
