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My Playboy Fiance: A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance

Page 61

by Katerina Cole


  We had this kid now. We had a tree. We had a family. And it was because of her.

  I glared at Savannah, daring her to mess with it. Daring her to touch my family.

  We sat around the kitchen island while Mia poured everyone a mug of coffee.

  “Cameron is still asleep, but I need to wake him up in thirty minutes to get him ready for school,” she explained to Savannah.

  “I understand, but this couldn’t wait.”

  “Spit it out.”

  “Legal called me before I called you.” She sat on the small stool, gripping her coffee cup. “And it seems like a lot of people saw Cameron and Mia in your family box last night during the game.”

  “So? There’s some kind of problem with that?” I didn’t get it. I hadn’t watched the playback of the game like I usually did. Instead I was making a paper chain out of construction paper.

  I could tell Savi was selecting the words she wanted to use. She only did that when she had bad news to deliver. Like my contract was in jeopardy, or I had lost another sponsor.

  “A woman saw Cameron at the game. She called the police and reported him as her son.”

  “That’s impossible,” Mia blurted out. “Cameron’s mother died.”

  Savannah looked at each of us. “The woman claims that Cameron was kidnapped from her and that the woman who died was not actually his birth mother.”

  Mia staggered backward and I caught her before she hit the counter. “I’ve got you, baby.”

  “That can’t be.” Her face was white.

  “No, it can’t,” I growled. “She’s lying.”

  “Legal is looking into it, but so far the woman’s story checks out. She had a son who matches Cameron’s description who was reported missing three years ago.”

  “Oh my God.” Mia’s knees buckled and I scooped her to my chest. “No. No.”

  Savannah looked as stricken as we felt. “I have a private investigator on it. And of course the police are now involved. But I wanted to tell you before the lawyers called. I know you two have your hearts in this.”

  “He’s not going anywhere,” I barked. “He belongs here.” There was a fucking Christmas tree with his little cut out hands all over it. No one was taking Cameron out of this home.

  Savannah grimaced. “He might have a birth mother out there who has been looking for him for three years. Crawford, I don’t know what the right outcome is here. But Cameron doesn’t need to know anything until we have some proof. You don’t have to tell him.”

  I felt the sob wrack through Mia’s body. I was helpless to do a damn thing about it.

  “We aren’t telling him anything, because it’s not true. He has parents now. Parents who want him. Parents who will do whatever we have to do to keep him. Do you understand me?” I knew Savannah didn’t deserve the brunt of my anger, but she was the messenger and in this case I had to shoot someone.

  She rose from the island. “I’m sorry. Really I am. And I hope we have answers in the next day or two. Just don’t give the police or the attorneys a hard time. It won’t make things any easier.”

  Mia nodded with a sniffle. “We’ll cooperate. Of course we will.”

  Savi touched Mia’s arm. “Call me if you need anything.”

  She walked to the door and gazed up at the tree. “I like it. Not your usual beer can Christmas, huh?” She smiled at me sadly.

  I knew exactly what she was thinking. It was the same thing running through my soul. I finally opened my life to love and look what happened.

  37

  Mia

  I didn’t know what was happening. I wished at moments like this that I could see into the future and see how things were going to play out. What was the right path to take? Were we doing the right thing? I wondered how many parents asked themselves these same questions every day. How many times a day do they ask them?

  “Are you ready, sugar?” Crawford asked and I nodded my head, letting him know I was.

  I couldn’t bear to speak right now. Otherwise I was afraid I would start babbling and crying all at the same time, and honestly no one needed that.

  “Cameron, do you have your backpack? Last week of school before Christmas break.” He grinned at the child.

  Cameron nodded, sleepily. We let him stay up way too late last night working on the decorations for the tree.

  I knew he could tell something was going on, but he hadn’t asked yet and I hoped to God he wouldn’t on the way to school. If we could just make it to the classroom, he would forget that he walked in on me crying and Hawk trying to console me.

  He would focus on his end-of-the-year art project and his spelling test. He wouldn’t realize I was a weeping mess.

  The last thing I wanted to do was make him worry. I would rather die than have this little amazing boy think that the safety he had finally found was suddenly at stake. I refused to let that happen.

  Hawk pulled me toward him at the front door. “I’ve got this, baby. I promise.”

  I looked into his eyes needing those words to be true. But I knew they were only words. He couldn’t promise me something like that. If Cameron’s birth mother was out there, it was our job to reunite them. The problem was that it came at the cost of three broken hearts.

  “Bye, Crawford.” Cameron waved.

  “Bye, bud. Have a good day.”

  I couldn’t say anything. I turned, buttoning my coat, braving the snow and took Cameron to school.

  I checked my phone all day. There was no news. Hawk hadn’t heard anything from the investigators except to say that the woman who claimed to be Cameron’s mother had in fact filed a missing child’s report three years ago. That alone didn’t encourage me.

  What if this boy had been kidnapped? Did he have memories of it? Was he too young at five to remember another family? I stared at my class while they worked on their social studies assignment.

  They had zero attention span this week. I knew today was probably the last day I’d get any productive work out of them. After this, the rest of the week would be spent watching movies and making crafts.

  And then we had almost three weeks off. Three weeks that had turned into some kind of a fantasy of mine. Spending them with my boys.

  Christmas Day, Hawk had the most important game of the season. But we were going to be there. After we opened presents and had breakfast we were going to meet my dad at the stadium. And then later after the Sharks won, Daddy was coming over for Christmas dinner. Maybe even Pops.

  I didn’t care that I was completely outnumbered by the men in my life. I had fallen in love with it. With football. With being a new mom. With being Hawk’s.

  And now what? Was Christmas destroyed? Were our lives completely wrecked? Would we be able to survive if this child was ripped away from our home?

  I’d never look at that tree again. A tear started to slide along my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away before the students saw it.

  “Miss Bristow?”

  “Yes?” I looked up with a fake smile.

  “Can you tell me about the Supreme Court again? I’m stuck on the puzzle.”

  I walked out from behind my desk. “Sure.” It was a small distraction, but I needed it. Needed it as badly as I need air to breathe. If I didn’t have news from Hawk soon, I was worried I wouldn’t make it to the end of the day.

  Cameron and I walked through the front door. The loft was quiet. Too quiet.

  “Hawk?” I called out.

  He was off today. I expected him to be on the couch watching Sports Now.

  I ran to the bedroom. He wasn’t there.

  “Hey, Crawford I made a really cool snowman today,” Cameron hollered running up the staircase.

  “Let me see if I can find him,” I told Cameron.

  I dug though my purse until I found my phone. I typed out a text.

  We’re home. Where are you?

  Taking care of it.

  I bit my lip. What in the hell was he talking about?

  Where are
you?

  I texted again and waited for some kind of answer that made sense. I was nervous. Worried that Hawk’s way of taking care of things were part of his past, not his present.

  I’ll be home after dinner. Sorry.

  That was the last text I had from him. What was he going to do? How would he handle this? I wanted him home—dealing with this crisis with me. I needed him. Didn’t he know that?

  I stared at the phone when Cameron came bounding down the stairs.

  “Can we make that popcorn strand you told me about?”

  “Sure. Sure we can.” I tossed my phone on the table. “And we can put on a Christmas movie. How does that sound?”

  I made my way to the kitchen and started on the popcorn. I had no idea where Hawk was and I didn’t like the feeling in my stomach one bit. I felt nauseated again, and my head suddenly felt fuzzy. It was too much stress. Too much worry. But I had to power through. For Cameron.

  38

  Crawford

  The woman who sat across from me in the diner kept picking at the stuffing coming out of the booth.

  “Coffee?” I offered.

  She looked over her shoulder at the waitress approaching the table.

  “Yes, I’d like a cup.”

  I nodded to the waitress to bring us two cups.

  “So, tell me Ms. Martin. Why did you make up this story?”

  I wasn’t the kind of man to hold back my emotions or my thoughts. I knew when someone was conning me. And this woman wasn’t taking my son from me.

  She slammed her fist on the table and hissed, “My son was kidnapped. I didn’t make it up.”

  “Yeah, that part of your story checks out. But why do you think it’s my son? Why did you contact DC police last night? Cameron has been in the system for three years. There is no record of anyone ever trying to contact him, meet him, reach out to him. Nothing.” I glared at her.

  She pulled the wool cap over her forehead. “How was I supposed to know he was in DC?”

  She had met me on I-95, just south of Fredericksburg. I was surprised no one had spotted me yet.

  I leaned back, crossing my arms. I didn’t buy it. None of it. “You’re not that far away. Tell me what it is you want.”

  “I want my child,” she seethed.

  “Cameron isn’t yours,” I countered.

  If Mia knew I was here, she would kill me. But I had to get to the bottom of this myself. The investigator had reluctantly given me the mother’s name: Martha Martin. The rest I did myself with a little web search.

  “You don’t know that.” She wasn’t backing down.

  We waited while the coffee was served until we resumed our argument. “I know that kid has had a shitty life. He’s been in and out of foster homes. He didn’t have clothes. He wasn’t eating. Shit, he barely spoke a sentence when I met him. But you know what? He’s happy now. And you’re crazy as hell if you think I’m going to let you ruin that with some kind of insane claim.”

  She leaned over the table. “You think the courts are going to take your side over mine?”

  “It’s not going to get that far. Name your price. I know that’s why you’re really here.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t pretend you’re shocked. I know bullshit. Fuck, I invented bullshit. Cameron isn’t your kid. You saw him on TV. You saw the story on how I’m trying to adopt him and you thought you could cash in on that.”

  Her eyes darted wildly.

  She was caught.

  I pulled out a file I had received from the lead investigator and slapped it on the table. “In here is a list of some of your pettier crimes. Check fraud. Shop lifting. I think I saw an attempted breaking and entering. Drugs. So I’m going to put my money on the fact that this was the biggest opportunity you’d ever seen and you thought you could walk away with some serious money.”

  “I lost my son three years ago,” she spoke slowly. “How can you say any of this to me?”

  I nodded. “I know. I’m sorry about that. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a child. But you know what that feels like. So why in God’s name would you try to put me through it?” I sat for a minute before I continued. “I’ll write you a check right now. A huge check. You take it and cash it in the morning and then you call the police and tell them you were mistaken. That you were so emotional you made a mistake.”

  I pulled out my checkbook. I wrote in the date and her name on the top line.

  “But what if he is mine?” She looked at me.

  “Martha, we both know that Cameron isn’t yours.”

  She closed her eyes and nodded.

  “Martha, where is your son?” I pressed.

  She sighed. “I don’t know. Really, I don’t. But I think with his father. Maybe in Florida? That’s where he always said he’d take him. He said I had to sober up.” She started to break down, the fierceness from before diminishing, she knew she’d lost. “Are you going to call the police?”

  The woman had a hard face. The kind that told the story of her life. I’d seen the same look on my own mother.

  “I’m not going to report you. I’m not even going to consider this extortion. This is a gift from me to you.” I made sure there were lots of zeros on the end before tearing it from the book.

  I handed it to her.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice shaky. “Why would you help?”

  “Because. I’d do anything in this world for that kid. I haven’t always been like this. I’ve made mistakes. Maybe more mistakes than you. And I’m trying to help you from making any more. Start over, Martha. Start over. Make your son proud of you.”

  She teared up and folded the check, tucking it inside her shirt.

  “Thank you,” she whispered and then walked out of the diner.

  I sat across from the empty booth and finished drinking my coffee.

  When I walked through the door at the loft Mia jumped from the couch. Cameron was asleep with a book across his chest.

  “Where have you been?” she questioned me.

  “It’s a long story.” I hung up my coat. “But I took care of everything. We don’t have to worry about losing Cameron,” I whispered.

  “I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “What happened?”

  I took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom so Cameron couldn’t hear us in case he awakened.

  I started to explain how I started my day feeling helpless, but ended up taking control. That’s what I did. I controlled the situation.

  “The woman who claimed to be Cameron’s birth mother wasn’t his mother. She won’t be bothering us. She’s dropping the claims.”

  Mia’s face turned pale. “Oh my God. How did you find out?”

  “I went to see her.” I smirked.

  The shock was immediately replaced with anger. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Shit. I thought it would make her happy, but I saw the fury in her eyes.

  “I didn’t want to get your hopes up or down or whatever roller coaster this is.” I tried to soothe her. “I knew I could handle it,” I explained.

  “You drove to see Cameron’s possible mother and didn’t think I could handle the roller coaster?”

  “Ok. Fuck. When you say it like that it sounds shitty. But, baby, I was trying to help. And I did. It’s over. He’s ours.”

  “He is not ours.” Her hands flew to her hips. “I’m not on the papers. I’m not even listed for guardianship. And what you did tonight, shows me exactly where you think I fall on the list of people you need to consult. At the bottom.” Her eyes flared.

  “God, no. I was trying to take care of you.”

  “This isn’t how you do it, Hawk. You don’t just make all the decisions yourself. There’s a child involved. You said we were doing this together. And right now I feel completely alone in this. You went out on your own. You didn’t ask. You didn’t need me. You didn’t want my input.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know why I’m here.�
��

  Fuck.

  “You’re here because he needs you.” I lowered my voice. “You’re here because I need you.”

  Her sapphire eyes lifted to mine, cutting me right through the chest. Did she know she could take my breath away with one look?

  “You don’t act like you need me. You act like a man who is used to being alone. Who doesn’t know what family looks like.”

  I knelt in front of her.

  “You’re right. I don’t. I never had a real family. I never had Christmas. I never had someone like you.”

  I tilted her chin toward me. “Don’t shut me out now, Mia. Not when we just got our shit together.”

  “Isn’t that what you did? Shut me out as if I’m not even here?”

  I hung my head. “Damn it. I don’t know what I’m doing. I fucked up ok?”

  “Do you see those boxes? The suitcases?” She pointed across the room where she had started moving her things over from her apartment. “I can easily take it back. Take all of it back.”

  “Fuck. No,” I growled. “You’re not leaving because I screwed up. I can’t do this without you, baby. I don’t want to.”

  “You have to include me. No more decisions about Cameron without me. Understand?”

  Damn. She had me by the balls. “Got it.”

  I thought I saw a grin tug at the corners of her beautiful lips.

  “Cameron’s been asleep for two hours.”

  “I’ll carry him upstairs. Don’t move.” I didn’t want the tiny bit of forgiveness to evaporate. I had to capitalize on it while I could.

  I walked to the living room where the boy was curled under a blanket. The tree twinkled next to him. I lifted him into my arms and took the stairs two at a time. His eyes opened for a second when I lowered him to the bed. I pulled the covers up to his chin and he rolled on his side.

  “Good night, son.” I kissed him on the head, turned off the light, and closed the door.

 

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