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“I’ll make some coffee.” I reach for the boxer briefs I kicked off before I climbed into bed.

I feel her gaze on me as I tug on the briefs and cross the room to my closet to grab a pair of black sweatpants.

“I should get dressed too,” she says. “Where did my dress end up?”

It’s in the living room. I stripped her bare right after we got here.

I tug a blue dress shirt from one of the hangers in my closet. “You can wear this.”

She nods. “Is it alright if I meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes?”

I welcome the time alone. I need to figure out how the hell to tell her the secret I’ve been carrying with me since we reconnected.

Pressing a kiss to her mouth, I hand her the shirt and take off down the hallway, with my heart thundering inside my chest.

***

“Did I overstep when I asked about Kristin?”

I glance up from my half-empty coffee mug and study Katie’s face. I see concern blanketing her expression.

I know why it’s settled there. She thinks I’m torn up about the fact that I haven’t seen my daughter recently.

She has no idea that it reaches well beyond that.

I shake my head. “No, not at all.”

She takes another small sip of coffee. Her gaze wanders around the living room. We’re sitting on the sofa. She gathered the blue wool throw she knit for me over her legs.

I love that she felt comfortable enough to do that.

Memories of nights in California spent on our sofa flit through my mind.

I was too trusting back then.

I took the word of an ex-girlfriend over the plea in the eyes of the woman I loved.

If I had told my fiancée that Madison claimed Kristin was mine, Katie would have kept a level head.

I know for a fact that she would have told me to get a DNA test.

I didn’t cross that bridge until Perry, Madison’s ex-lover and current husband, walked into the picture and I saw my daughter’s chin, and her nose in his profile.

“Will you be seeing her soon?” Katie presses for more.

I can’t blame her for wanting to know. I fucked off once because of my child. There has to be concern rooted deep within her that the same thing would happen all over again.

I rest my mug on the table and turn to face her.

I bite the fucking bullet because I’m done hiding behind my view of what I think Katie needs or wants to hear.

I give it to her straight knowing that the chips are about to fall where they may.

“I don’t know when I’ll see Kristin.” I pause and draw in a deep breath. “I’m not her biological father.”

Chapter 45

Kate

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