Love and the Single Dad

by Susan Crosby

  “In for a penny, in for a pound,” she said cheerfully.

  He smiled for the first time since she’d driven up. “Exactly.”

  “I’d like to know the people my lad will be spending his life with, so a couple of days would be grand. If you’re quite sure your mum won’t mind.”

  “If I took you to a motel, she’d just drive up and get you, so, yes, I’m sure she won’t mind. I’ll stay at Mom’s, too. This is my brother Joe’s home. I don’t have a house here in town.” He gestured toward the stack of paperwork. “His birth certificate says he was born in Maine.”

  “Anne didn’t plan it that way. She was there on a job interview to teach at the university since her writing wasn’t going to pay the bills entirely, but she went into labor. He was a month premature.”

  “I thought women couldn’t fly in their last trimester.”

  Millie cocked her head.

  “I’ve got five sisters. I hear things,” he said, trying to make light of it. But it was typical of Anne that she’d taken such a risk. She’d probably convinced some doctor to give his approval.

  “Well, you know Anne,” Millie said, echoing his thoughts. “She ended up getting the job and staying on.”

  “Why would she choose Maine, of all places?”

  “She said it was because you wouldn’t think to look for her there.”

  That confused him. “With very little digging, I could’ve found her. I saw her byline occasionally. I could’ve contacted her publisher.”

  “But you never did, did you? Maybe she wanted you to find her, I don’t know. Why didn’t you come looking for her?”

  “Because it was over.”

  “It didn’t occur to you to find out if she was pregnant after you split up? You’d been together quite a while.”

  Six months. Long enough to have fallen hard for her, but not long enough for her to feel the same. “It never would’ve occurred to me that she wouldn’t contact me to say she was pregnant.” Selfish. He had a feeling that word was going to come up a lot.

  He focused on Millie then. “My mom and grandmother drove to Sacramento this morning, but they’ll be back in a few hours. Would you mind staying here while I go talk to my lawyer? I’ll let my brother know, so he doesn’t come home to find you without warning.”

  “That would be all right.”

  He walked over to where Ethan was playing, his tower a couple of feet tall and wobbly. His child, and he hadn’t even touched him.

  Donovan laid a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. The boy jerked back a little, and Donovan quickly released him.

  “I’m your father.”

  Ethan nodded.

  Love rushed through Donovan, a powerful need to protect this sad, worried child of his. “I’d like to give you a hug,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

  Ethan looked at Millie, who smiled and nodded. “Go on, then, love. It’s okay.”

  Still Ethan hesitated.

  “Maybe later,” Donovan said, disappointed but understanding. “I have to go somewhere for a little while, but I’ll be back. I promise I’ll be back. If you want to rest, there are two bedrooms. You can use either one. Or you can just keep playing.”

  “I’ll play, thanks. These toys are wicked fun.”

  Donovan laughed at the New England term, although said with a slight British inflection. “Yes, your uncle Joe has a wicked-good toy cupboard.”

  He wrote down his cell phone number and gave it to Millie; then he escaped.

  Escaped. There was no other word for it, he thought, as he got into the car he was supposed to return today. He needed to cancel his flight, too. He did that as he drove, then called Joe but only got his voice mail.

  “Hey, it’s me. Listen, I haven’t left town. Something came up. Give me a call as soon as you get this. Thanks.”

  He pulled up in front of Laura Bannister’s house. Knowing she was probably in her backyard sunbathing—without a confining bikini—gave him a little bit of mental distraction from thinking about how his life had just been turned upside down and then spun on its axis.

  Because everything had changed. Everything.

  Donovan sat in his car, trying to right himself. The spinning slowed, as did his heart rate. He’d been trapped by enemy fire more than once, and this felt just as terrifying.

  He wished he had Laura’s home number. He could get her office number, but that wouldn’t help. So he walked to the blue-painted front door and rang the bell. After a few seconds, he tried again. One more time.

  The door opened. She must have looked through the peephole because she didn’t show surprise. Her face was pink from the sun. Her skin gleamed with sunscreen and sweat. She wore a pink-flowered shift with skimpy straps over bare shoulders, which meant she really had been sunbathing in the nude. Too bad he didn’t have the time or inclination to let his imagination take that picture and run with it.

  “Donovan?”

  He said the words out loud for the first time. “I have a son.”

  Chapter Three

  L aura gauged the tension in Donovan’s body, the restrained emotion in his eyes, and invited him in.

  “Grab something cold from the refrigerator,” she said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “I need to change.”

  He headed that way. She rushed into her bedroom, pulled on a pair of cropped pants and a blouse, twisted her hair up with a big clip and then grabbed a legal pad and pen.

  From the living room, she spotted him outdoors, a bottle of water hanging loosely in one hand, the portfolio he’d brought in the other. He moved closer to her pool, staring into it. Although not large, it was pretty, and set within a small forest for privacy. Peace and quiet reigned, a paradise of her own creation.

  Laura didn’t join him right away but studied the tall, ruggedly handsome man. She’d tried to avoid him the whole time he was home, but he kept popping up everywhere she went—parties, picnics, even at the diner when she dropped in for lunch or coffee. They were polite to each other, but never engaged in conversation, not just the two of them alone, anyway. It’d been especially hard this trip, because he usually came home for only a few days, and then was gone again.

  And she’d never known a man who intrigued her more or whom she needed to steer clear of more.

  She couldn’t think about that now, or that time in high school, either. She opened the glass doors and joined him. “Do you want to stay out here or go inside?” she asked.

  “You choose.”

  “Inside, then. It’s cooler.”

  “I’m sorry I interrupted your day of self-indulgence,” he said, coming back to life a little.

  “Oh, well. It was self-indulgent of me, anyway.”

  He barely smiled. “I think I have need of a lawyer.”

  They both sat. He took an overstuffed chair. She perched on the sofa so that the coffee table would be handy for paperwork. “And since I’m the only family-law attorney in town, you settled for me?”

  “If I didn’t think you were the best, here or anywhere, I wouldn’t have come to you.”

  Right answer. He seemed a little more relaxed finally, so she opened up the discussion to business. “Okay. So…you have a son?”

  “Ethan. He’ll be five in a month.”

  Laura listened to his story and sifted through the documents.

  “What happens?” he asked. “Do I adopt him?”

  “No need. You’re listed as his father. But, Donovan, are you sure he’s yours? We should verify.”

  “There’s a picture on Mom’s photo wall—my first day in kindergarten. It could be Ethan. And the timing is right. I don’t question his paternity.”

  His cell phone rang. “I’m sorry, Laura. I need to warn Joe that they’re at his house.”

  While Donovan explained the situation to his brother, Laura reread Anne’s trust documents, but what she really wanted to read was her journal. Too bad there wasn’t a legal reason for that. She thumbed an envelope that he said contained a personal
letter from Anne.

  Donovan noticed. He put his hand over the phone. “Go ahead.”

  He’d loved her, that much Laura had figured out from the way he talked about her. He was angry and hurt, too, but he’d loved her. He was also a family man, and the fact that he hadn’t known about his son all this time had to be devastating. It didn’t matter that he’d left his home and family so many years ago. They were still the most important people in his life.

  And a son? She didn’t know how much of a change he would’ve made in his career decisions, but he certainly would’ve done something.

  Anne implied in her letter that he would let his family raise the boy, only visiting now and then. Laura wasn’t so sure about that. She also didn’t know how many options he had. He was at the top of his game. How could he make a huge change at this point in his career without risking it entirely?

  “Sorry,” Donovan said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

  “How did Joe react?”

  His mouth tightened. “I can’t repeat his words to a lady—which is not the word he used to describe Anne.”

  Brother protective of brother. Family ties. Laura’s experience with them were minimal. Her parents had divorced when she was a baby, and her mother hadn’t remarried. As a family-law attorney, however, she saw all kinds of familial relationships and had come to appreciate what she had with her mother.

  “You probably heard me tell him to get it out of his system right now,” Donovan continued. “I won’t tolerate any bad-mouthing. She’s my son’s mother. That’s all that matters.”

  “That’s commendable of you.”

  “I’m not as uncivilized as some people think.”

  She raised her brows. “You’ve changed overnight?”

  After a moment he laughed. “Thanks. I needed that.”

  “Anytime you need to be insulted, just come to me,” she said, sitting back, letting herself be aware of him as a man again, not a client.

  She saw him check her out, something he always did, always seeming…interested. No, it went beyond that. Attracted. She’d been wondering for a long time how it would feel to make love with him—since before she knew what making love really meant.

  “What’s next, Laura?”

  “Give me the rest of the day to study her estate issues. Do you have a will?”

  “Yes. It’s in Joe’s safe.”

  “Bring it to my office tomorrow, and any other documents you have. Life-insurance policy, brokerage account information, whatever else you can think of. Do you own a home?”

  “I don’t own anything. I have investments, of course.”

  “You’ll want a trust drawn up. And you need to decide on a guardian, should something happen to you.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then pushed himself out of the chair. “I should get back to Ethan and Millie.”

  Laura handed him the portfolio, minus the documents she needed, and followed him to the door. “Give my office a call in the morning. I’ll fit you in.” She gave his shoulder a friendly pat, then let her hand linger long enough to feel his muscles tense. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Get to know my son.”

  “And after that?”

  He turned around, breaking contact. “I don’t know. This particular scenario hasn’t been on my what-if list. Thanks again for letting me interrupt on your day off.”

  “No problem. Donovan? How do you feel, finding out you’re a father?”

  “Bonded. Possessive. Worried. I don’t want to mess up, you know? He’s already been through more than any little boy should.”

  “Don’t expect perfection of yourself.”

  “Why should I expect less than usual?” He half smiled. “I know I have a lot to learn, Laura, and I’m probably going to mess up along the way. I’ll count on you to point out when I’m falling down on the job.”

  The last thing she wanted was to get close enough to him to do that. She would do her job as his attorney, but that was it. “I’m sure your big, boisterous family will let you know,” she said.

  “Family sees a different truth from friends.”

  She considered that, understanding what he meant but deciding not to keep the conversation going, because she had an urge to hug him, to get body to body with him—and not just to comfort.

  Laura watched him drive off then returned to her house. She still had plenty of time to relax by the pool before she started on Donovan’s case, but she was more anxious to dig into Anne Bogard’s life—and to get the job done. She couldn’t afford to spend a lot of time with him.

  She’d already surprised herself when she’d stopped by this morning to tell him goodbye. Her relationships were casual for a reason. A very good reason. She wasn’t marriage material. Period. She said as much to every man she dated, believing in full disclosure. Some men were grateful and continued a casual relationship, others backed away.

  The end result was always the same, anyway—they left. Which hadn’t caused her any heartache. Yet, she thought, as she picked up Donovan’s paperwork and headed for her office.

  By the time Donovan returned to Joe’s house, not only was Joe there, but their older brother, Jake, too. They both were sitting in Joe’s truck in the driveway.

  As Donovan approached the truck, the brothers climbed out—Joe, ponytailed and athletic, and Jake, newly married and a father to two-month-old Isabella. He looked like the adventurer he was, long and lean, with dark brown hair and probing blue eyes.

  “Joe filled me in,” Jake said.

  “I don’t suppose you helped me out by telling Mom and Nana Mae, too?” Donovan gave Joe a steady look.

  He laughed. “I left the easy stuff to you, Donny.”

  “Right.” He glanced toward the house. He wasn’t as reluctant to tell his mother as his grandmother. There had never been a McCoy born out of wedlock. She would have something to say about that.

  “How do you feel?” Jake asked.

  “Probably about the same as you when you came home and found Keri nine months pregnant.”

  “Turned out okay for me.”

  “I expect it’s going to turn out okay for me, as well.” He was grateful to have Laura helping, too. “Do you want to meet him?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  The three brothers were headed to the house when a car honked. Donovan recognized that horn. His mother and grandmother were back from Sacramento.

  Aggie McCoy, a sixty-seven-year-old widow of ten years and the dictionary definition of “mom,” leaned out the driver’s window. “Why’re you still here, Donny?”

  His brothers gave him I’m-sure-glad-it’s-you-and-not-me looks. He walked over to the car and crouched, greeting his mother and his paternal grandmother. “I have some news.”

  Before he could tell them, the front door of the house opened and Ethan stepped onto the front porch, stopping there.

  “Ethan.” Millie came up beside him. “I told you to stay inside.”

  “I waited and waited. He didn’t come in.”

  The image of Ethan standing hopefully at the window jarred Donovan. He had a lot to learn about fatherhood. “It’s all right, Millie. I’m sorry I kept him—and you—waiting. Please join me.”

  Millie took his hand, nudging him forward.

  Donovan set a hand lightly on Ethan’s shoulder. This time he didn’t flinch. “Mom. Nana Mae. This is Ethan. My son.”

  “Well, of course he is,” Aggie said, opening her car door and getting out as Jake went around the car to help their grandmother out.

  “And this is his grandmother, Millie Bogard.”

  Aggie ignored Millie’s outstretched hand and hugged her instead, one of her classic all-engulfing hugs. Donovan knew his mother must have a ton of questions.

  Nana Mae came around the car on Jake’s arm, using her bright purple cane to help steady herself on the other side. “I’m Maebelle McCoy,” she said, her voice strong. Then to Ethan, “I’m your gre
at-grandmother. Everyone calls me Nana Mae.”

  Ethan stared wide-eyed, keeping his hand firmly in Millie’s as the introductions continued with his uncles.

  “Ethan, would you go inside with your uncles and Grammy for a minute, please,” Donovan said. “I need to speak to Grandma Aggie and Nana Mae. I promise I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Okay,” he said, looking relieved, then racing ahead of the adults.

  When the door shut, Donovan took a steadying moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to warn you. I didn’t have any warning myself. They just appeared. I’m hoping you won’t mind if they stay with you for a few days, Mom. Me, too, for that matter, while we all make the adjustment.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. Where’s his mother, Donny?”

  “She died a month ago. Anne Bogard.”

  “Without telling you about Ethan?”

  He nodded. “I’ll explain later. For now I don’t want to keep him waiting. He’s still unsure.”

  “Well, of course. There’s plenty of time.”

  He turned to his grandmother then. “I’m sorry, Nana Mae. I know he’s the first McCoy born out of wedlock. I hope you won’t hold it against me, since I didn’t know myself.”

  “You should have.”

  Her tone wasn’t accusatory or angry, but matter-of-fact. And it silenced him. He should have taken the time to find out before he wiped Anne out of his life, as she had him. It was irresponsible of him.

  “You’re right,” he said to his grandmother. “No excuses.”

  She patted his cheek. “You’ll be a good father. I always knew it.”

  She headed toward the house, taking careful steps, refusing his arm, giving him a moment with his mother.

  “How can I help you the most?” Aggie asked.

  “I don’t know yet. Opening your house to us is the first step. I have a lot of decisions ahead.”

  “Including about your job.”

  “Especially that. I can only imagine what Nana Mae would think of me if I left anytime soon.”

  Her blue eyes, the exact same color as Donovan’s, twinkled. “I’ve been Maebelle McCoy’s daughter-in-law for forty-nine years. One thing I know about her—she’ll love you no matter what.”