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The Daddy Secret

Page 2

by Judy Duarte


  Buddy was one of Rick’s rescue animals. He’d been brought to the veterinary clinic by a couple of college students who’d found him abandoned by the side of the road and knew he would die without medical help. Buddy, who’d been malnourished, dehydrated and septic from an infected leg wound, was barely alive when the kids had dropped him off.

  Rick had told them to leave the dog with him, knowing he’d probably never see any payment. He’d never seen the college kids again, either.

  In the meantime, after Buddy responded to the antibiotics and treatment, Rick moved him from the clinic to the rescue yard, planning to find him a new home. But it soon became apparent that the rambunctious Buddy would need some obedience training before he was ready to become a real family pet. Otherwise, whoever adopted him might give up on him and abandon him to a shelter because of his rascally ways.

  As the boy ruffled the dog’s head, Buddy gave him a sloppy kiss, which caused the kid to laugh. “He likes me.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I sure wish I had a dog,” the boy said.

  “Oh, yeah? Well, it just so happens that Buddy is looking for a home.”

  “No kidding?” The boy looked up at him with big, blue eyes, reminding him of one of those trusting expressions Joey, his kid brother, used to flash at him years ago. “You mean Buddy doesn’t live with you?”

  “He lives with me, but only until I can find him a home with a real family.”

  “Wow. That would be way cool to have a dog of my own. I always wanted one, but when we lived in the city, my dad said it wouldn’t be fair to an animal to keep him cooped up inside all day long. But now I live in a house with a yard.”

  A squeaky screen door swung open, and Alice Reilly stepped onto her porch. “Oh, there you are, Lucas. I see you’ve met Dr. Martinez.”

  The boy, who’d been looking over his shoulder at Alice, turned back to Rick. “You’re a doctor?”

  “Yes. Actually, I’m a veterinarian.”

  “Cool. Just like Dr. Doolittle, huh? Buddy’s lucky to have you.”

  Rick laughed. “Apparently Buddy isn’t so sure about that. He’s still trying to decide if there’s a better place he’d rather live. Otherwise he’d stay in the yard or on the leash.”

  “If I can get permission, I’d like to keep him,” Lucas said. “We might need a need a bigger, better fence, though.”

  Rick studied the kid for a moment, noting his short, dark brown hair and the cowlick that grew much like his own. His blue eyes were also a little unusual in those with a darker skin tone. But then again, Rick had Hispanic blood and blue eyes. It happened. He credited his olive complexion to his old man and one of his blue-eyed genes to his Norwegian mother.

  Talk about mismatched couples. Rick had given up trying to figure out why his parents had gotten married in the first place, let alone why they’d stuck together long enough to make everyone around them miserable.

  He’d always found genetics interesting, but psychology had never been one of his favorite subjects. Maybe because his family had been so screwed up and it would have given the most gifted therapist a headache to try and figure out a way to straighten them out.

  Rick glanced across the street at the house where Mallory had just moved in, then back at Lucas.

  No, it couldn’t be. Mallory was as honest as the day was long. She wouldn’t have deceived him like that and not said a word about it. Besides, the boy—Lucas—had mentioned having a dad and referred to his parents. And Mallory wasn’t married. At least, she hadn’t been wearing a ring—Rick had checked.

  Still, he’d have to find time to talk to her one of these days. There were a few things he’d like to ask her, like why she’d quit taking his calls. And why she hadn’t come back to Brighton Valley when she’d said she would.

  If they were going to be neighbors, they’d be running into each other on occasion. And it might be best to address some of that stuff and get it out of the way so they could each move on with their lives and not be uncomfortable around each other.

  He’d have to stop by her house another time, when he didn’t have Buddy to worry about.

  He’d told her he’d come back and help clean up Buddy’s mess, which would give them an opportunity to talk then. But she’d been pretty adamant about doing it herself. Maybe they both needed to put some time and distance between them until they got used to the idea that they were going to be neighbors.

  “Well, I’d better get home,” he told Lucas and Alice. “It’s feeding time at the zoo.”

  “You have a zoo?” the boy asked, his eyes growing even wider than before.

  Rick laughed. “It feels that way sometimes, but no, it’s not a real zoo. I do have quite a few rescued pets, though. Maybe Alice will bring you to visit someday.”

  “Will you, Mrs. Reilly?” Lucas turned to the gray-haired woman, reminding Rick that polite kids didn’t call their elders by their first names. Then again, he’d never had lessons in courtesy when he’d been growing up.

  “I’d be happy to,” Alice told Lucas. “That is, as long as our visit is at a convenient time for Dr. Martinez.”

  After saying goodbye, Rick took one last glance across the street at Mallory’s new digs before taking Buddy home.

  All the while, his thoughts drifted to the baby he and Mallory had conceived, the child they’d given up for adoption. He had no idea if the baby had been a boy or a girl, but he thought about it a lot, especially when he spotted a kid about the age their baby would be now.

  He hoped that he or she had ended up with better parents and a much better home than Rick and his brother Joey’d had. The fear that he might not have been able to offer the poor kid much better was the only thing that had forced him to sign the papers and lose all ties to his son or daughter.

  Well, that and the fact that Mallory and her grandparents hadn’t left him with any other options.

  * * *

  That night, after dinner was over and Lucas had bathed, Mallory took her own shower and slipped into her nightgown. Then she grabbed a book from one of the boxes she’d yet to unpack and went to the living room before going to bed.

  She hadn’t even read three paragraphs when a knock sounded at the front door.

  Who could that be?

  A new neighbor, welcoming her to Brighton Valley? It was nearly eight and pretty late for a visit like that. She set aside the novel, got to her feet and headed for the door.

  “Yes?” she asked before reaching for the knob.

  “Mallory, its Rick Martinez.”

  At the familiar sound of his voice, her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

  She had no idea how long she stood there, wondering what to say, what to do.

  “Are you there?” he asked.

  Well, there was no getting around it, she supposed. So she took a deep breath, then slowly blew it out before unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door to see what he wanted.

  Tonight, standing under the porch light and wearing a pair of worn denim jeans and a black T-shirt, he didn’t appear anywhere near as conservative as he had earlier. In fact, he reminded her of the rebellious teen she’d once known.

  His hair was still damp, as though he, too, had just stepped out of the shower.

  “I hope it’s not too late.” His gaze moved from her eyes, to her lips, to her throat and lower, before making its way back to her face.

  She’d been so caught up in the way he filled out his T-shirt, in the realization that he still resembled a rebel, either with or without a cause, that she’d forgotten the fact that she was only wearing a flimsy, lightweight robe over a thin cotton gown.

  “I...uh...” She fiddled with the lapel, tugging at it, hoping her nipples didn’t show through the soft and comfy but well-worn fabric.

  “There are a few
things I wanted to talk to you about,” he said. “I think it’ll make running into each other a little easier from now on.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Yes, I know. And you’re probably right. But now really isn’t a good time.”

  “Why?”

  There were plenty of reasons. For one thing, she’d been harboring the pain of their breakup for years and had put it behind her. Why stir things up now?

  And if that wasn’t enough, Lucas was upstairs, although he’d been so quiet that he might have fallen asleep.

  But mostly she didn’t want to enter any kind of discussion with Rick Martinez while she was dressed in her nightgown, especially since he’d always made her a little uneasy.

  He’d also had a way of exciting her, too, and apparently none of that had changed.

  Everything else in her life had, though. She’d kicked the dangerous Rick Martinez addiction years ago.

  She had a new man in her life now, a stockbroker who cared enough about her to ask his investment firm to transfer him to their Wexler office so they could be together.

  Brian Winslow didn’t stir her blood the way Rick once had, but they were mature adults. They were also better suited to each other, with common interests and goals—things that made for an enduring relationship.

  Rick’s gaze swept over her again, sending her already thumping heart topsy-turvy. She tried to ignore the power he still held over her, hoping that once he’d said what he came to say that it would all go away. That he’d go away.

  But she wasn’t dressed for company, and even if she was, did she want to invite him in and make things more awkward between them than she had to?

  She’d never expected Rick to stay in Brighton Valley, especially since she’d known how humiliated he’d been when his uncle had been arrested and convicted for assault after beating his aunt unconscious.

  She knew, once he’d turned eighteen, Rick had only stuck around because of her. At least, that’s what he’d told her back then.

  “I...uh... It’s not a good time,” she said, using the door as a shield, “but if you’d like to come back tomorrow, that would be okay.”

  He didn’t make a move toward leaving, and that same awkward silence stretched before them again.

  For a moment, the memories came rolling back, along with the sexual awareness that swarmed around them like lightning bugs in a Mason jar.

  What she needed was a diversion.

  But the one she got wasn’t the one she wanted.

  “Hey, Mom,” Lucas called from the upstairs landing. “Where did you put my Star Wars Lego set? Is it still in one of the boxes? Or did we forget to bring it when we moved?”

  His footsteps sounded as he padded downstairs, and her heart belly flopped into the pit of her stomach. Her whole world was going to blow sky high the moment Rick spotted Lucas.

  After all, he’d have to be blind not to see what she saw each time she looked at the boy.

  Lucas was the spitting image of Rick Martinez.

  Chapter Two

  The moment Rick heard Mallory’s son call out from the top landing, reality slammed into him like a horse hoof to the chest.

  He’d wanted to shove open the door and push past her, but he didn’t need to. The boy had enough curiosity for the two of them. Within several pounding heartbeats, he joined his mother at the door.

  There stood Lucas, the kid Rick had met earlier, the boy with blue eyes and a cowlick like Rick’s.

  Of course, Rick might be connecting imaginary genetic dots, but how likely was that?

  “Hey! Dr. Martinez. Where’s Buddy?”

  Rick’s first instinct was to launch into an interrogation of Mallory, but he needed to control his gut reaction. Why take out his anger and frustration on the poor kid?

  “I’m afraid I left Buddy at home this evening,” he said.

  Mallory, her eyes wary, her cheeks flushed, looked as if she’d just picked up the wrong end of a hot branding iron. She glanced at Rick, then at the boy. Her son. “I didn’t realize you two had met.”

  Apparently not. Would she have mentioned anything about even having a son if the boy hadn’t come downstairs?

  “We met today,” Lucas said. “While I was at Mrs. Reilly’s house.”

  Mallory took a deep breath, then slowly let it out, clearly at a loss and probably trying to buy time in order to gather her thoughts—or maybe to fabricate a lie.

  How about that? If there was one thing he could say about Mallory Dickinson, at least the Mallory he’d once known, it was that she was as honest as the day was long.

  But it didn’t take a brain surgeon to see the writing on the wall. She’d kept the baby she was supposed to have given up for adoption, and she’d let more than nine years go by without telling him.

  Betrayal gnawed at his gut, and anger flared in a swirl of ugly colors. He ought to challenge her right here and now, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it in front of the boy. Apparently, she no longer saw a reason to bar him from entering the house because she stepped away from the door and allowed him in.

  “Lucas called you a doctor,” she said, arching a delicate brow.

  The fact that she found it surprising that Rick had actually made good ought to set him off further, although that was pretty minor in the scheme of things.

  Still, he couldn’t quite mask his annoyance in his response. “I’m a veterinarian. My clinic is just down the street.”

  As she mulled that over, Lucas sidled up to Rick wearing a bright-eyed grin. “Did you come to ask my mom about Buddy?”

  No, the dog was the last thing he’d come to talk to Mallory about. And while he hadn’t been sure just how the conversation was going to unfold when he arrived, it had just taken a sudden and unexpected turn.

  “Why would he come to talk to me about his dog?” Mallory asked her son.

  Or rather their son. Who else could the boy be?

  Rick’s emotions, which he’d learned to keep in check over the years, spun around like a whirligig, and he was hard pressed to snatch just one on which he could focus.

  Lucas, whose smile indicated that he was completely oblivious to the tension building between the adults, approached Mallory. “Because Buddy needs a home. And since we have a yard now, can I have him? Please? I promise to take care of him and walk him and everything. You won’t have to do anything.”

  Mallory drew a hand to her chest, just below her throat where her pulse fluttered. “You want a dog? I don’t know about that.”

  “Why not?” the boy asked.

  She seemed to ponder the question, then said, “We’ll have to talk about it later. However, to answer your question about the Legos, I put them on the shelf in the linen closet just outside your bedroom.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” He flashed Rick a smile, then turned and headed toward the stairs.

  As Lucas was leaving, Rick’s gaze traveled from the boy to Mallory and back again.

  Finally, when he and Mallory were alone, Rick folded his arms across his chest, shifted his weight to one hip and gave her a pointed look.

  “Cute kid,” he said.

  Mallory flushed brighter still, and she wiped her palms along her hips, tugging at the fabric of her robe.

  Nervous, huh? Rick’s internal B.S. detector slipped into overdrive.

  Well, she ought to be.

  When he’d found out about her pregnancy, he’d only been seventeen, but he’d offered to quit school, get a job and marry her.

  However, her grandparents had decided that she was too young and convinced her that giving her child up for adoption was the only way to go. So they’d sent her to Boston to live with her Aunt Carrie until the birth.

  Yet in spite of what she’d promised him when she left, she hadn’t
come back to Brighton Valley. And within six months’ time, he’d lost all contact with her. She might blame some of that on him, but he didn’t see it that way.

  Either way, she’d had a change of heart about the adoption. And about the feelings she’d claimed she’d had for him.

  At the thought of Mallory’s deception, something rose up inside of him, something dark and ugly and juvenile, something that reminded him that he might always be prone to bad genetics and a lousy upbringing. But he tamped it down, as he’d learned to do in recent years, and glared at the woman he’d once loved instead.

  As a teenager, Mallory had attended church regularly. Now she stood warily in the center of her living room looking as guilty as sin.

  “Excuse me for being blunt,” Rick finally said, “but your son looks a lot like my brother Joey did as a kid.”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  What he thought was that she’d lied to him, that she’d kept their baby. Was she saying that she hadn’t?

  “If I’m off base, suppose you set me straight.”

  She glanced upstairs. “Not here. Not tonight.”

  Rick wasn’t sure if Lucas could hear their conversation or not. But she was right. Any further discussion ought to be done in private.

  “All right,” he said. “Another time. Preferably tomorrow. You tell me when.”

  “I...” She bit down on her lip, then glanced upstairs again. “I have a job interview at two o’clock and have already lined up Alice Reilly to babysit. I’ll ask her to keep Lucas longer. Would that work for you? We can meet here in the late afternoon.”

  He had a pretty full schedule at the clinic tomorrow, as well as a couple of minor surgeries. “That’s fine, as long as it’s after five.”

  “Okay.” She started for the door, signaling that it was time for him to leave.

  All right. He’d go for now.

  Mallory might have shut him out of her life when they were teenagers, deciding she’d rather raise their son on her own, but a lot of things had happened since she’d been gone. A lot had changed.

  When Rick stepped out of the house, she closed the door behind him, shutting him out once again, it seemed.

 

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