by L. B. Dunbar
“So, he’s my dad,” Sadie states after I interpret what I can of the results with her. I emphasize the bottom-line percentages, and Sadie stares at the numbers as I do. “Does this mean I have to live with him?”
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself but avoiding an answer.
“Do you want to live with him?”
“I don’t know him,” she states, looking up at me from where we sit at my kitchen table. I brush wisps of hair behind her ear. I hate the black color, but I won’t mention it to her. She needs to work through her own emotions, and I can’t imagine being in her position: dealing with the death of her mother, making new friends here, and finding out who her dad is. It’s too much, and I’ve considered finding her someone to talk to about everything.
“Can I still live with you?”
“Of course, baby. If that’s what you want.”
“Do you want me to be here?” The question startles me.
“Absolutely.” I cup her cheeks, holding her face so she’s forced to look at me. “This is where you should be. With me. But I can’t deny Billy his right as your father, and if he wants you to live with him…well, we’ll just have to work something out.”
“Like every other weekend or something?” Sadie’s question turns sharper, disappointment and disapproval in her tone.
“I don’t know what’s next.” I do know I should talk to my lawyer, the one I hired for the petition for temporary custody until full custody could be guaranteed. She’s back in Atlanta because in a small town, there aren’t many choices. It’s either one Harrington or another, and I already know Billy secured his nephew Jordan Rathstone as he is who ordered the legal DNA testing. I want to ask Billy if we can just settle things between us. He doesn’t need to file for custody. I’ll take full responsibility for Sadie. Ideally, we could work out visitation or whatever else among ourselves, but the logical side of me knows it’s in Sadie’s best interest to go through legal channels. Her mother would definitely not approve of some kind of gentleman’s agreement or a handshake on schedules and finances. She didn’t want to bother Billy with being the father out of fear he’d want half of Sadie’s time. Theresa didn’t want to share.
He’s already given me this unwarranted gift. I don’t need to divide her with him.
Yes, the one-hit wonder, king of the one-night stand was perfect for my sister’s independent spirit, not to mention, being with him—as her unending high school crush—was fantasy fulfillment. I’ve heard that’s a heavy aphrodisiac. Theresa couldn’t have made a better plan for becoming a parent. As far as planning goes, though, Theresa never saw herself as a parent.
I did. I was the one who wanted children and didn’t have any. Instead, I have a niece.
A small part of me wants to do right by Billy. It would never be fair to ask him to deny his knowledge of Sadie, for her or him, and he doesn’t seem to be balking at the idea of fatherhood. As always, he seems overconfident, as though he can fall into parenting without assistance. No man, or woman, falls into parenting with experience, but most people have a support system. When I think of the Harrington clan, Billy will have more than his share, which leaves me wondering, once again, where I’ll fit into things.
When we don’t hear anything from Billy or a lawyer, as I expected, Sadie grows quieter in asking questions, and I become irritated. His child isn’t some floozy he can dismiss or play games with. I’m sure Billy has a checklist regarding the number of days before he can call a woman, if he even calls at all. But Sadie is his kid, and I won’t let him blow her off. These thoughts fuel my ire as I stalk across the street late one evening and enter the Blue Ridge Microbrewery and Pub to confront the father of my niece.
When I enter, Billy is intervening in an altercation near the bar between a wasted Denton Chance, the newly returned prodigal rock star, and his ex-wife, Kristy Moseley. I’m quick to assume Billy’s interference is to protect Kristy as Denton is holding her waist, and my fears of Billy excluding me from Sadie’s life with a potential wife double. When Mati Harrington arrives, Denton leaves with the aid of Billy but not before he makes another small scene.
I shouldn’t be staring, but the flame of my anger dulls a little as Billy escorts Denton out of the bar. I help myself to a stool and smile at Clyde Bebzene, who’s bartending. I don’t typically frequent the pub. It’s not my scene nor do I drink much but tonight feels like a night for some wine.
“I’ll take a Moscato,” I say to Clyde. He’s a rumbled mess. His jeans don’t quite zip and his flannel could use an iron, but his smile is sweet. He isn’t married, and he doesn’t have kids, but he coaches Little League baseball, and one of Grace’s sons is on his team. I’ve gotten to know Clyde over the years as his reading interests include superhero comics and fan fiction retellings.
“It’s a brew pub. We only serve beer,” a deep masculine voice states from behind me. Clyde’s eyes widen, and I don’t need to turn around to know who spoke to me in such a manner. Clyde shifts his large body to rest his hip against the bar and side-eyes the array of liquor bottles on the back wall. Then he turns back to me and lifts an eyebrow. I shake my head, attempting to ignore the man behind me even though he’s the reason I’m here.
“Billy,” Kristy Moseley squeals. “You’re my hero tonight.”
I don’t want to acknowledge them, but their presence is close, and the ear-splitting squeak of Kristy leads me to remember her cheerleading days with my sister. In the reflection of the mirror behind the alcohol bottles, I watch Kristy make a short leap for Billy who catches her on her sides near her breasts while Kristy’s arms wrap around his neck.
“I’ve been looking for you for days,” Kristy purrs, and Clyde’s head shakes. A huffed-chuckle comes from his mouth, and he reaches under the bar for a cooler. A bottle of wine mysteriously appears, and he fills a glass to the brim for me.
“That’s more than a pour,” Billy snaps behind me, but Clyde ignores him and slides me the glass.
“On me,” he states with a wink.
“Why haven’t you called me?” Kristy whines, and I can only imagine the pout of her puffy lips. She’s bleach-blonde and big boobed, and probably everything Billy looks for in a woman. My sister certainly matched the description, but I never did. Being overweight as a teenager, my breasts were uncomfortably large. Once I started eating better and working out, I liked myself better, but the extra frontal baggage had to go. I had a breast reduction so guys would stop noticing my triple Ds before looking up at me. And I was never a blonde but a brunette before the pre-maturing gray. Now I sport a full head of wispy silver and dark chrome.
Nope, I’m definitely not Billy Harrington’s type.
“Have you been avoiding me, Billy Harrington?” Kristy drones, and I catch her fiddling with the collar of his shirt through the reflection in the mirror. Suddenly, I’ve abandoned my purpose for being here this evening, and all I want to do is disappear. I turn enough to see I’m blocked in my seat by the Krist-illy embrace behind me, and I don’t know how to escape them. Twisting back for my wine, I take too large a sip, as I rush to finish the glass, and choke on the fizziness.
“Now, why would I avoid you?” Billy responds. Clyde has walked down the bar to help another customer, but he looks up at Billy’s comment. I close my eyes, willing them all away. When I open, Clyde stands before me. He tilts his head to the side, keeping his eyes on me.
“Want to get out of here?” he mutters, and if I didn’t know better, the proposition would sound clandestine and appealing, but I have a sneaky suspicion Clyde has a crush on my employee. Still, I’m happy for his intervention due to the scene behind me. “I get a break in…” He looks at his wrist, which is missing a watch. “Now.”
“The hell you do,” Billy snaps from behind me.
“I’m taking five,” Clyde states, speaking up to his boss, and I watch him step to the end of the bar and then circle around for me. Clyde wedges his big body between Krist-illy and extends his elbow for me. I slip
my hand into the crook, silently thanking him with a glance.
“I’m so relieved chivalry isn’t dead.” I giggle as I slip from the stool, and Clyde walks me to the door. Once we step outside, I slip my hand from his elbow and stop him on the corner.
“Thank you. That was…” I turn in the direction of the front window to the pub. I don’t know how to explain myself, but my heart races, and I’m grateful to be out in the fresh fall mountain air.
“Let me walk you across the street,” Clyde offers, but I chuckle.
“The store is closed, Clyde. Grace went home.”
“What? I…I was keeping up the chivalry act.” He winks at me again, but he’s teasing. I pat his thick forearm.
“I can handle myself from here,” I state and press up on my toes to kiss his cheek. He’s a sweet man, and if Grace would ever open her eyes, she’d see someone looking for her.
I turn for the crosswalk, abiding by the rules as I cross straight across the street, then turn left to walk the length of my building for the back entrance to the apartment above. I’ve almost made it to the staircase when I hear heavy boots thundering behind me, and I spin in time to have my mouth covered before I can scream.
“Don’t scream. It’s me,” Billy says as a thick palm covers my lips, and I’m pressed against the brick building. Immediately, I swat at his broad shoulders, telling him with my body language to get off me. His free hand captures my wrist and holds it near the side of my head.
“Calm down. I just don’t want you freaking out the neighborhood.” He withdraws his hand and quickly captures my other hand, pressing it to the wall near my head as well. For some reason, his fingers spread, forcing mine to link with his.
“Oh, and like you didn’t freak me out by running up after me, slamming me into this wall, and covering my mouth, telling me not to scream.”
His pelvis leans against my lower belly, holding me in place, and a rush flutters up my middle. “Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” Concern fills his eyes although his body has not moved back from mine.
“No,” I whisper. He’s so close. His breath on my face. His hands holding mine. His lower half pinning mine to the wall at my back.
It’s just like her. The woman I saw him with.
“Why were you at the pub?” I open my mouth to respond, almost forgetting my purpose with all the Krist-illy-gate happenings, but he continues. “Did I see you kiss Clyde?”
My mouth gapes. “What?” Has he lost his mind?
“Did you. Kiss Clyde?” He slows as if I’m not quick on the intake.
“Are you kidding me? How would you notice anything being you were all wrapped up in Kristy Moseley?”
“Were you jealous?” he asks, as a seductive grin slowly graces his lips. “That’s it. You are jealous.” His smile grows salacious and pleased, but I snap.
“I won’t be squeezed out of Sadie’s life if you take a wife.”
That smile instantly disappears. “What?” He’s so loud I turn my head to the side, no longer able to face him. He tightens his grip on our linked fingers and pulls our collective hands under my chin. “What on earth made you think I’d take a wife?”
“You’re with Kristy. I’ve heard the rumors.” I can’t even use the word dating for what they might be doing.
“You’ve heard rumors, huh?” Billy chuckles. “And you always believe what you hear, right?”
“No, but—”
“I’m a real ladies’ man, one-hit wonder, right? You saw me, remember?” His laughter turns sardonic, his tone bitter, and I concentrate on his lips, trying to ignore the press of his firm thighs against the upper part of mine. Is he hard? I can’t even go there in my head. It’s been so long, and he’s so close to the promise land. I was dating Chad before I decided to move to Blue Ridge, and he decided he wouldn’t move with me. That was three years ago. Since then, the bookstore has been my lover, but it’s been a lonely substitute.
“I saw what I saw. And yes, that’s what I’ve heard,” I snap back as if it’s an insult. “And I won’t be pushed out of Sadie’s life when you take a woman as a partner.”
“A woman as a partner?” he repeats, the chuckle slowly dying. “I’m not square dancing, darlin’, and who do you think I’d be taking as a partner, anyway?”
I ignore the sarcasm and continue. “Sadie can’t have a revolving door of women in her life. She’ll need stability, continuity, and not some passing through, one-night stand floozy.”
Billy leans his upper half away from me as he returns our joined hands to the brick, but his lower half digs deeper against me. If he slips a little lower, the loose material of my skirt would easily give, and he’d be exposed to my current condition. Heat radiates between my thighs with an unquenchable thirst for friction. What is wrong with me? This is Billy Harrington, manwhore galore.
“Are you done yet?” he snips, narrowing his eyes on me. My chest heaves. The women. The one-nighters. The fear for Sadie.
“I won’t let another woman push me out of Sadie’s life.”
His eyes shift from narrowed to etched with something I can’t interpret, but the expression of his hardened jaw relaxes.
“You aren’t going anywhere. You’re Sadie’s aunt.”
“It’s more than that,” I offer, bracing to hand him my feelings. “She’s everything to me. I’m practically a second mother, and I won’t lose her.”
As Billy continues to stare at me, he gingerly lessens the pressure of his lower body on mine.
“You aren’t going to lose her.”
“I’m all she has,” I interject, and my voice cracks. The emphasis is a combination of me being all she has and her being everything to me. I can’t lose her. I can’t lose another person from my life.
“Sadie has me now, too.” His tone softens, lowering as his eyes watch my lips.
“But she doesn’t. You haven’t called her, and you must have the results. You must know by now that you are her dad.”
“I’ve been busy,” he mutters.
“That’s not an excuse. That’s what you say to someone like Kristy, not your daughter.”
Billy’s eyes snap up to mine.
“I’ve been looking for the right time.”
“There isn’t a right time, Billy. The time is now. Any time. That girl lost her mother. She found out she has a father who works across the street from where she lives. She needs you.”
Billy tips his head back, his eyes drifting up the building as if he can see Sadie above us in the apartment.
“You need to step up, William.” I’ve lost my steam and don’t even say his name with my typical demeaning irritation. My tone saddens as I address him. Sadie needs him. She won’t admit it, but her growing silence and dark mood prove what she isn’t saying. She thinks he’s rejecting her.
“Okay, Roxie.” I typically don’t like how he shortens my name because the nickname is reserved for those closest to me. I especially don’t like the way he emphasizes it—pausing on the rocks and exaggerating the e-sound—but he’s lost his bluster as well, and the way he exhales over my abbreviated name makes me shiver. The tremble draws his eyes back to my face. “I don’t have her number, but I’ll stop over tomorrow and sort it all out.”
“Don’t give me empty promises,” I state. “And don’t give Sadie false hope. If you really want to be her dad, you have to be more than a name on a certificate or a contact on her caller ID. Otherwise, you really are a sperm donor, and she doesn’t need anything from you.”
I’m not convinced Sadie can go on without Billy now that she knows who he is and where he lives, and I have a sneaky suspicion Billy might just need Sadie in his life as well.
“I’m not just a sperm donor,” he grits, his tone returning to the Billy I’m more familiar with. The one who irritates me whenever he speaks.
“Fine. Prove it.”
The gleam to those earthy-rich eyes returns. “Game on, Roxanne.” With my full name rolled from his throat, another shiver ripples up m
y spine, and my thighs clench against his.
“Now, we have other questions to be answered. You still didn’t tell me if I saw what I think I saw. You kissed Clyde outside the pub.”
“It was only on the cheek. He was being a gentleman.” I don’t know why I answer him or even justify the action because it’s none of Billy’s damn business. “Why? Were you jealous?” I retort, throwing the question back to him. His nostrils flare, but he doesn’t answer.
“Like this kind of kiss?” He lowers quickly to my upper cheek, close to my ear, giving me a whisper of a peck. I can’t speak. I’m so stunned by the motion I can’t find words. He slowly pulls back, dragging his nose tenderly along my skin to the corner of my mouth. He draws back only enough for a wisp of space between our lips.
“Or was it more like this?” He shifts his head to the other side of my face and kisses the opposite corner of my lips. My breath hitches, and my lips part. I’ve never had a corner-lip kiss before, and it’s terribly sweet and disturbingly sexy.
“More like the first one,” I choke out, my voice husky and rough. Billy tips back, allowing more space between us, but his eyes linger on my lips.
“Doing the gentlemanly thing,” he whispers. He steps back and releases my hands. I’m strangely chilled without his warmth, and my fingers tingle, wanting to reach for him and follow his retreat. Instead, I squeeze them as if restoring feeling and lower both hands to my sides. Billy turns to his side and juts out his elbow. “Allow me to walk you home.”
Too surprised by the sudden shift in him and flabbergasted by his suggestion, I wordlessly press off the wall and loop my hand through the crook of his arm. It’s only a few steps, and I’ve walked this direction a million times in three years. I’m perfectly safe in Blue Ridge, and I don’t need an escort, so I’m stumped as to why I’m playing along with him.
