Page 115 of Holden’s Resurrection

“That’s good, ‘cause I like hearing it.”

“Why was Paul my dad if you really were?”

Fuck.

How in the hell did he explain to an eight-year-old the mess he’d created?

With honesty. But how did he break it down in a way she could understand?

“When I was in the Navy, I got hurt and had to go see a doctor.” Okay, that was a good start. Now what? Holden studied his daughter and wondered how it was possible he’d had his head so twisted he’d missed really seeing her. It had been right in front of him the whole time, all he had to do was look. Faith wasn’t a carbon copy of him—most of her features came from her mom—but he was there, too. The shape of her eyes, her skin tone, her hair color, she even had his nose. Holden shook those thoughts from his mind and came back to her question. “The doctor had to give me a bunch of tests. And he told me I couldn’t have children.”

“But…you’re my dad, right?”

Goddammit. He was screwing this up. He needed Charleigh, she’d know what to say.

“Yes, Faith. You are my daughter. The doctor was wrong. But at the time I didn’t know that. I didn’t leave because I didn’t want you or your mom. I left because I wanted you so badly to be mine, but at the time, I believed the doctor. I didn’t ask the right questions and because of that I missed a lot of your life.”

“I asked Mom for a brother or sister and she told me no.”

Holden’s gut clenched at what was coming next.

“Now that you’re my dad and we’re gonna live together, can I have a brother or sister?”

Punch to the throat.

“I’d like that very much, but that’s something I have to talk to your mom about.”

“She’ll say yes.” Faith solemnly nodded.

He had no doubt. Charleigh had wanted kids—plural, as in as many as they could have and still live a life that was full of adventures and outings. The problem wouldn’t be talking her into more, it would be whether or not Holden was capable of producing them. Not that Holden would explain that to Faith. Nor would he tell her that for the time being she would be an only child. He wanted time to get to know her and build a solid relationship before they added to their family.

Then a thought hit him—he’d taken Charleigh bare. Not once had he used a condom. It hadn’t occurred to him he could get her pregnant and he hadn’t asked if she was on birth control.

She could be pregnant right now.

It was a whisper that fluttered over him. A fantasy, a wish that even in his darkest days without her had never gone away. Knowing Faith was his, and there was a possibility they could have more, revived his dream.

Maybe.

That was the best he could hope for until things settled down and he sought a second opinion.

“Time for bed. It’s been a busy weekend and you have school tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait to tell Andy I have a dad.”

Good Christ, that felt good.

“You do that. And make sure you tell him that your dad owns—”

“Holden,” Charleigh snapped and his gaze went to the door.

“What?”

“We talked about this.”

Had they? He didn’t think they did. They’d talked about when Faith could date, which he was holding firm on sixteen—eighteen if he could push it and get away with it. And they’d talked about him not being allowed to threaten a little boy. But they had not talked about Faith telling Andy and all the other little twits in her class that he owned guns and a lot of them. They hadn’t even touched on the fact that he knew a multitude of ways to inflict bodily harm. Nor had they discussed that he had zero issue kicking teenager ass if one of them tried to put his filthy hands on his girl. But if Charleigh frowned upon that, he would make sure Alec’s boy, Caleb, was up for the task. He smiled at his fiancée and added giving Caleb hand-to-hand combat lessons on his mental to-do list. Alec would be all for it—as a matter of fact, Alec might have started his training already.

“We didn’t, but I’m sensing you don’t like the idea of Faith telling—”