Daddy Undercover (Crescent Cove Book 9) Page 4

  Except Jared wasn’t budging from the doorway.

  I sighed. “Seriously? Can’t you take a hint?”

  “I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t proud that I’d done it.”

  “Oh, no, did you have first time regrets?” Being a smart ass under pressure was a bad habit of mine, and usually, Jared just laughed off my remarks.

  He was not laughing now. In fact, his expression was practically a glower.

  “It wasn’t my first time, which you damn well know. Far from it. That blessed event belonged to Anna Nordway when I was fourteen.”

  “Fourteen?” I couldn’t help widening my eyes. “Early bloomer.”

  He shrugged. “It’s different for a guy.”

  I shook my head. “Oh, Lord, please grant me the serenity not to knee him in his misogynistic balls. He’s already gotten some use out of them, so I could look at it as a public service.”

  He surprised me by laughing. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Yes, you did. Next, you’ll say women should stay in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant.”

  His nostrils flared, and something stirred way down low in my belly. So low I wasn’t sure anything had ever gone on in that particular place before. “What about you?”

  I was breathing way too fast. Did he mean… “What about me, what?”

  “How old were you?”

  Through the miracle of oxygen finally filtering through to my brain, I recovered enough to comprehend his question. But that didn’t mean I was going to miss a chance to razz him. “Gotta be a bit more specific there, Sheriff.”

  “How old were you when you let a man touch you for the first time?”

  My heartbeat tripped. “He wasn’t a man, definitely a boy, and I touched him first. As I tend to do.” I wetted my lips. “Seventeen.”

  “Not that long ago for you.”

  “Long enough. There have been a few in between. Surprisingly enough, you get better with practice.”

  His jaw tightened. “How much practice?”

  I wasn’t an expert on male-female relations, but even I could tell this conversation was veering into dangerous territory. Especially when our emotions were high, and he’d had a baby with someone else.

  He’d kissed her.

  Touched her.

  Made love to some faceless woman I couldn’t help hating no matter how much I told myself I was better than that.

  Tomorrow, I’d be better. Tonight, I’d be honest—with myself, at least, if not with him.

  “I do believe that’s a conversation you aren’t getting out of me without a bottle of wine between us. And that’s not happening tonight.” Lightly, I gave his chest a shove.

  He gave way without a fight, stepping out of the doorway so Sadie and I could pass into the hall.

  I didn’t know if I was relieved or disappointed.

  Scratch that—honest, remember? I was disappointed, because I was like a ball careening around the table before I sank into the corner pocket. Hurt and anger and confusion had made a crazy brew inside me, and I wasn’t above wondering what she had that I didn’t. Why he’d been so driven to have his baby’s mother when he’d never so much as looked at me.

  But that was chemistry, right? And it was just my damn bad luck that mine for him pinged so hard I couldn’t see straight sometimes when he got nothing but a flatline in my direction.

  No harm, no foul. He didn’t know. No one else did in the world. So, it’d just be my stupid little secret.

  Along with one other that he also would never know. The one at the root of the ache in the pit of my belly.

  But that was mine alone too.

  I glanced back at him, and his stark, pained expression tugged hard at me. Despite my best efforts, I’d never been able to shut out Jared Brooks from my heart—and I wasn’t going to start now. Not when he needed me most.

  When that little girl needed me, even if looking at her chipped off more pieces inside me I didn’t have to spare.

  “I’ll take Sadie outside,” I said gently. “Then I’ll come back in and we’ll figure this out.”

  The hope that exploded across his face would’ve been comical if his relief wasn’t so palpable. “You’re not leaving me?”

  I frowned. An odd way to phrase the question to be sure, but this had been a strange night. “I won’t ever leave you. Even when you’re a bonehead.”

  Even when you ground my heart to a pulp—whether or not you meant to.

  He moved toward me so fast that I had no time to prepare. His big hand came up to cup my cheek as he searched my eyes. “No matter what happens, you won’t. Promise me, Bee.”

  Every molecule in my body yearned. In that moment, I would have pledged anything to him. I couldn’t have stopped myself. “I promise.”

  Four

  I’d been a father for almost seven hours, and the baby was still alive. I considered that a victory.

  Granted, I’d been a father a lot longer than that, but I hadn’t known about it so it didn’t technically count. At least not for the purposes of keeping her in one piece. But I hadn’t managed that feat alone.

  I didn’t have words to convey my gratitude toward Gina. Even if she’d basically stopped speaking to me after taking Sadie out on a long enough walk around my property that I’d been tempted to go out to search for them. She tended to like to walk down to my boat launch, but it was a cold, raw night, and it was too easy to trip and fall in the dark. She’d waved off the flashlight I’d tried to force on her, and I’d reminded myself that Sadie knew every inch of this area.

  Still, I’d wanted to go after her. To try again to explain. But I didn’t have words for that either.

  How could I spell out why I felt so guilty without making it sound, well, suspicious?

  Not that it was suspicious. Not at all. She was my best friend. I loved her, of course, but I wasn’t in love with her. I’d never been in love with any woman. After my mother had shown me the worst of human nature when I was a kid, I’d sworn I never would be.

  A three-year-old’s promises were valid too, even if you only made them to yourself.

  “What should we name her?” I asked in the silence broken only by Sadie lapping water from her dish in the kitchen.

  Gina didn’t look up from her phone. She’d been scrolling and typing a lot for the last hour or so, which I supposed was preferable to talking to me. “You’re sure she doesn’t have one already?”

  “The note didn’t mention one.”

  She tucked her phone against her hip and stuck out her hand. “Let’s see it.”

  Rising, I tiptoed around the boat that still held the sleeping baby—despite Gina’s eye roll when I’d said she was content there—to the basket I’d tucked beside the couch. When I picked it up, I noticed there was a hidden compartment on the bottom I hadn’t seen before. I fumbled with the recessed latch and opened it to find an envelope and two more full bottles.

  “Some lawman I am,” I muttered. “I didn’t even see this before.”

  Gina was already standing next to me. “Oh, bottles.” She kept her voice low to not wake the baby as she tugged them out of my hands.

  Before I could say anything, she took them down the hall to put them in the refrigerator. Somehow they’d still seemed cold. It probably didn’t hurt I kept my place a few degrees warmer than an icebox.

  She came back in, moving at her typical warp speed. “Glad to find those bottles. I was about to run to the store, but they’re handy to have on hand.”

  “What do you mean you’re going to the store? Who’s going to watch her?” So much for keeping our voices low.

  Or keeping mine low. I was on the verge of a panicked shout. Luckily, the kid hadn’t noticed yet.

  Gina’s brows spiked high enough to nearly flirt with her hairline. “Um, her father, maybe?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t done this before.”

  “And I have? Did I give birth and not realize it?”

&nbs
p; I frowned. Had I imagined the catch in her voice on that last bit? “You’ve done a lot of babysitting.”

  “I’m sure you babysat Mason.”

  “Not until he was fully ambulatory and didn’t consider his thumb a food group.”

  She shook her head and curled up in her corner of the couch once again. “What are you going to do about work?” she asked quietly, not meeting my gaze. She probably knew full well I hadn’t considered that yet.

  I picked up the envelope from the basket and returned to my chair. Since I wasn’t in the mood for any more revelations right now, I tucked it in my pocket beside the note I’d found earlier. “I’m not ready to tell the whole town.”

  “I’m not talking about the whole town. But you need to tell the people you trust at work, so you can make arrangements to miss shifts or reschedule them when necessary.”

  “I can’t miss shifts, I’m the damn sheriff.” Gina pressed her hand downward to remind me to lower my voice. “I took a vow to the Cove, and it’s moving into one of our busiest tourist seasons.” I blew out a breath. “I’m not going to leave anyone in the lurch.”

  “The Cove isn’t exactly New York City,” she said drily. “Pretty sure you taking a few hours off here and there to watch your daughter won’t make the murder rate skyrocket.”

  “What murder rate?” I couldn’t keep the indignation out of my question. “We haven’t had a homicide in this county since 1989 when Joe Richie shot his girlfriend for—”

  “Cheating on him with the mailman, after he came in and found them boinking on the washing machine. Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard the story a million times.” She snorted. “I wonder if their rocking action got the clothes any cleaner before she bought it?”

  I did not smile. “They were not on the washing machine. Try the stove.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I folded my arms. “Considering I am the one with access to official documents you and your fellow gossip hounds are not privy to, yes, I am sure.”

  “Save me from your holier than thou lawman spiel. Washing machine is better for local flavor, but anyway, thirty plus years ago, champ. Think you can skip out early some days and not risk public safety. Oh! I’ve got it.” She snapped her fingers. “What about one of those cloth snuggie things you hook around your neck? You could get one of those and work with her on your chest. Or bring a playpen to the station. You know, like bring your daughter to work day, except all the time.”

  I wanted to cover my ears, but that would not make her stop talking. She’d just get louder and then possibly wake the baby. “I cannot wear a snuggie or whatever it’s called to work. I’m a duly sworn officer of the law. I might have to handle dangerous—stop laughing. Just stop it right now.”

  She rocked back and forth and buried her face in her hands as she tried unsuccessfully to quiet her laughter. Maybe she wasn’t even trying. She was having a fine time at my expense, and I couldn’t even be that annoyed because I knew she was just yanking my chain.

  And she was still here. Still being my best friend. So, I supposed I could handle a little chain-pulling. Which I could dish out just as well.

  “You know, maybe we could get matching ones? I’m sure they have sets. You could wear it at the diner. Think of all the tips you’d get toting around a cute baby.”

  Her laughter ceased as if it had never been. And when she dropped her hands, her eyes seemed wounded. “She’s not mine, Jared. She’s yours.”

  “I know that. I was just kidding.”

  “No, I’m not sure you do know that.” She stood and walked stiffly to the kitchen.

  I tossed another glance at the still-snoozing baby—thank God—and followed.

  This time, Gina had bypassed the sink to stick her head in my refrigerator. She emerged with a package of fully cooked bacon, which she began readying for the microwave.

  It was late, but I knew very well her penchant for eating while she was upset—it didn’t matter if it was eleven at night or noon. She was obviously very on edge, even if I wasn’t sure of all the reasons why.

  I waited until she’d plated the bacon to speak, though I wasn’t sure I could talk reasonably without ripping the plate out of her hand. Naturally, she hadn’t offered me any.

  Make a baby with a random woman, no bacon for you.

  But before I could say anything, Sadie trotted in, lured by the scent of bacon. Earlier, she’d been lured by the scent of baby, but we’d managed to keep her out of the living room through an assortment of tactics from tossing her most-loved toys to plying her with her favorite treats. I didn’t know if that would work again after Gina gave her bacon.

  She loved Sadie, so of course, she’d slip her some. Me? I was beyond in the doghouse. I might as well have been in a whole new village.

  Sadie sat at Gina’s feet and gave her the most adoring expression ever. Gina immediately softened and dangled a piece over Sadie’s mouth. She took it so gingerly she probably didn’t even nip Gina’s fingers.

  When I occasionally offered my dog table scraps, she usually tried to take my fingertips off too.

  The two of them ate bacon and ignored me until Gina heaved a giant sigh and pushed the nearly empty plate into my gut on her way past. I snagged my fingers in the back pocket of her jeans to stop her, and the look she flashed me was pure ice.

  “Watch where you put your hands, pal.”

  “Technically, just my fingers.” But I eased back and held up the hand in question in apology. “All night, you’ve either been darting away from me or playing with your phone.”

  “Oh, was that what I was doing?”

  Judging by her pissed off tone, I ventured, “No?”

  “No, I was not. I was scrolling through baby sites trying to make lists of what we need for her, and then you made that jackass comment about my wearing a snuggie at the diner. It finally woke me up. I can help, but I can’t do this for you. I want to make it easier, but I don’t want the lines to blur. And right now, they’re so wavy they’re wrapped around my damn ankles.”

  With the promise of bacon gone, Sadie trotted out of the room. I was so focused on Gina’s flushed face, I barely noticed.

  Until Sadie let out a bark from the living room.

  Gina and I stared at each other before bulleting down the hall, elbowing each other to try to get there first.

  We burst into the room to find Sadie standing in one end of the boat, nosing at the baby’s face while she awkwardly patted the dog’s cheeks.

  “Aww,” Gina murmured. “See, you didn’t have to keep them apart. They’re already fast friends.”

  “Am I asking too much of you?” I asked quietly. “Is that what you meant in the kitchen? Putting a burden on you that you don’t want, because hey, you’re my friend, not her mother.”

  “No, I’m not her mother. And I can’t pretend to play that role even if I wanted to—which I do not, because she has one. One who could come back at any time.”

  “She’s not coming back, Bee. Ever. I know you can’t believe something like that but it’s true.” I pulled out the folded note in my pocket, still ignoring the envelope I’d shoved in with it.

  Gina took it from me and read silently while I watched the dog and the baby basically making kissy faces at each other.

  “She said if she kept her, something bad would happen. She didn’t mean…”

  “I don’t know. I also don’t know how I didn’t see that kind of darkness in her but maybe in the space I was in, I wanted that.”

  “Are you saying you like chained her up or something kinky? Possibly involving your handcuffs?”

  I didn’t want to laugh. Not now. Maybe not for a good long while. “No. Wasn’t anything kinky. When you’ve gone long enough without, missionary feels exotic.” I raked a hand through my hair. “Shit, I can’t believe I just said that to you.”

  She returned the note. “Women are lucky. We have bottom drawer boyfriends for the lean times.”

  “Bottom drawer boyfriends—you kn
ow what, nope. I’m not going there. Not tonight.”

  “Probably best.” Gina nodded gravely as I tucked the note back in my pocket.

  I wanted to burn it, but the part of me trained to gather evidence insisted it was proof. I needed to keep every bit of documentation for when I saw my lawyer and took the next steps, whatever they happened to be.

  “We—you,” Gina amended, “need to give her a name. Unless it is mentioned in that envelope you tucked away.”

  “I don’t know what it says.” I also didn’t reach for it.

  My eyebrows climbed as Gina reached over to slip her fingers into my pocket. She fumbled around gingerly before withdrawing the envelope and sliding her finger under the flap. “Can I?”

  I shrugged. I wanted her involved. Sure, part of that was because I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. But the rest was because we were a team. It felt as if we’d always been one. She was the first person I thought to tell when good stuff happened, like when my brother moved back to town last year and opened his restaurant.

  I also relayed the bad, but that depended on severity. She could be a worrier, and I didn’t want to cause her undue stress.

  But if she was conflicted about getting in too deep with this, I didn’t want to make it harder for her. What I wanted wasn’t the only consideration. I could tell her own needs weren’t all she was thinking about either.

  She studied my face and let out a sigh. “You don’t make it easy, Brooks.”

  I didn’t know what exactly she meant, but I couldn’t deny a sense of relief as she withdrew a piece of paper from the envelope. She was still in this situation with me.

  Even if she didn’t entirely want to be.

  Her forehead wrinkled as she read. “Your daughter’s name is Samantha Mae. At birth, she was 19 inches long and weighed six pounds, four ounces,” her voice cracking, she met my gaze, “and her birthday is September eighteenth. So, she’s just about two months old on the nose.”

  I sagged into my recliner, somehow managing to absently pat Sadie’s head when she ambled over. I slid a look toward the baby and found her watching us while she chewed on her fist.