friends, because a man sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking about his women friends in the way he was thinking about Kelly right now.
She hadn’t answered his question; instead, she pursed her lips in that old familiar way that Ben knew meant she was stuck for the right response. She watched Dylan and his friends, her arms folded across her chest.
Ben smiled briefly. Reading Kelly’s face had always been a piece of cake for him—
maybe because she was so special to him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Let’s see how she answered his next question. In the lift the other day, she’d blustered.
Now, she’d had time to prepare herself.
“Dylan’s a great little kid. Who’s his father?”
She swung round to face Ben square on, and he could see challenge—no, denial—
Julie Mac
written all over her face.
“Ben…you…I…” She reached up and pulled off her sunhat, pushed unnecessarily at her hair. She fiddled with the brim of the hat, then he saw her hands still as she began speaking again. “You and I knew each other at school, and then...then there was that…you know, that little bit of time we had together.”
Ben lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head on one side. So that’s how she remembered that night; a little bit of time together. Funny, he thought they’d shared something stunningly passionate and beautiful.
Kelly cleared her throat and continued, “A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then.” She lifted her chin higher but he saw that it trembled slightly.
“Was he anyone I know?”
“What?”
“His father. Your boy’s dad. Would I know this guy if he happened to be standing here, right now, beside you, watching Dylan play?”
Her eyes became bright with unshed tears. She shifted slightly so she was looking out to sea, and for a long time, she was silent.
“I’m sorry, Ben.” Her voice was a ragged whisper. “I don’t want to talk about it. I think it’s better to let sleeping dogs stay sleeping.”
She glanced briefly towards him, then let her eyes veer out of contact, focussing on something in the distance.
Deep down, he felt the toxic simmer of anger, but the last few years had taught him plenty about controlling emotions, and living with lies when necessary. And right now, it was better for everyone, Dylan included—especially Dylan—to let the lie live.
Still, it hurt to his deepest core. He was shocked at how much it hurt to have been denied the most fundamental human truth for damn‐near seven years. He was a father; he had a beautiful little son whose existence he’d had no inkling of until five days ago.
‘ I’m sorry, Ben.’
What for? Having the baby and not telling him? Having the baby, at all? Abortion was a legal option.
She lifted a hand and pulled some strands of hair across her face in a nervous, defensive gesture he remembered from their schooldays, and suddenly, he felt sorry for her.
It hadn’t been easy for her either.
“Was Dylan an unwanted baby for you?” He asked the question quietly.
“No! Never!”
She moved again to face him. The flash of anger in her eyes was followed quickly by gut‐wrenching sorrow, and he knew he was pushing her too far. He swiped both his hands A Father at Last
through his hair to stop himself from reaching out, holding her and kissing her until the sadness disappeared. He should change the subject, now.
But there was something he needed to know… “What do you tell him when he asks where his daddy is? When he asks why his friends have got dads and he hasn’t?”
He saw the pain in her eyes, sharp and hot. Then she looked towards the beach where the happy sounds of boys playing football drifted up to them.
“I tell him—” still she didn’t look at him, “—I tell him that…his father…his daddy…was an old friend of mine. An overseas law student.”
He allowed himself no reaction to the knife stab of her words. He saw her chest heave
She hadn’t answered his question; instead, she pursed her lips in that old familiar way that Ben knew meant she was stuck for the right response. She watched Dylan and his friends, her arms folded across her chest.
Ben smiled briefly. Reading Kelly’s face had always been a piece of cake for him—
maybe because she was so special to him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Let’s see how she answered his next question. In the lift the other day, she’d blustered.
Now, she’d had time to prepare herself.
“Dylan’s a great little kid. Who’s his father?”
She swung round to face Ben square on, and he could see challenge—no, denial—
Julie Mac
written all over her face.
“Ben…you…I…” She reached up and pulled off her sunhat, pushed unnecessarily at her hair. She fiddled with the brim of the hat, then he saw her hands still as she began speaking again. “You and I knew each other at school, and then...then there was that…you know, that little bit of time we had together.”
Ben lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head on one side. So that’s how she remembered that night; a little bit of time together. Funny, he thought they’d shared something stunningly passionate and beautiful.
Kelly cleared her throat and continued, “A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then.” She lifted her chin higher but he saw that it trembled slightly.
“Was he anyone I know?”
“What?”
“His father. Your boy’s dad. Would I know this guy if he happened to be standing here, right now, beside you, watching Dylan play?”
Her eyes became bright with unshed tears. She shifted slightly so she was looking out to sea, and for a long time, she was silent.
“I’m sorry, Ben.” Her voice was a ragged whisper. “I don’t want to talk about it. I think it’s better to let sleeping dogs stay sleeping.”
She glanced briefly towards him, then let her eyes veer out of contact, focussing on something in the distance.
Deep down, he felt the toxic simmer of anger, but the last few years had taught him plenty about controlling emotions, and living with lies when necessary. And right now, it was better for everyone, Dylan included—especially Dylan—to let the lie live.
Still, it hurt to his deepest core. He was shocked at how much it hurt to have been denied the most fundamental human truth for damn‐near seven years. He was a father; he had a beautiful little son whose existence he’d had no inkling of until five days ago.
‘ I’m sorry, Ben.’
What for? Having the baby and not telling him? Having the baby, at all? Abortion was a legal option.
She lifted a hand and pulled some strands of hair across her face in a nervous, defensive gesture he remembered from their schooldays, and suddenly, he felt sorry for her.
It hadn’t been easy for her either.
“Was Dylan an unwanted baby for you?” He asked the question quietly.
“No! Never!”
She moved again to face him. The flash of anger in her eyes was followed quickly by gut‐wrenching sorrow, and he knew he was pushing her too far. He swiped both his hands A Father at Last
through his hair to stop himself from reaching out, holding her and kissing her until the sadness disappeared. He should change the subject, now.
But there was something he needed to know… “What do you tell him when he asks where his daddy is? When he asks why his friends have got dads and he hasn’t?”
He saw the pain in her eyes, sharp and hot. Then she looked towards the beach where the happy sounds of boys playing football drifted up to them.
“I tell him—” still she didn’t look at him, “—I tell him that…his father…his daddy…was an old friend of mine. An overseas law student.”
He allowed himself no reaction to the knife stab of her words. He saw her chest heave
Similar Books
Homeport
Nora Roberts
Rachel's Hope
Shelly Sanders
Riding Out the Storm
Emma Jay
False Picture
Veronica Heley
Matchplay
Dakota Madison
Death in Sardinia
Marco Vichi
The Blood Binding
Helen Stringer
Twilight's Eternal Embrace
Karen Michelle Nutt
Heartland Junk (Part II): Sanctuary
Eli Nixon
Diving In (Open Door Love Story)
Stacey Wallace Benefiel