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“But—”
“I’m staying and we’re not lying about who I am.”
“But—” she repeated.
“You’ll tell him tomorrow when he wakes up that I am his father.”
“But—”
“I don’t have time for games, Chrissie. I’ll be leaving for Africa soon. In a couple of weeks.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. He’ll stay with me while you go to work.” Which just occurred to him. “Do you work tomorrow?”
Staying with the boy on day one would be awkward, but he’d figure it out.
“No, I’m off for the next four days.”
“That’s good. That will give him time to get used to me before he stays with me.” And then Trace would have to leave soon thereafter. How long would it be before he’d be back in the States? Six months? A year? Maybe longer?
“He’s not staying alone with you.”
“He is.” Trace cut his gaze to Chrissie’s watery-eyed one. Under other circumstances he could feel badly for her, would have wanted to comfort her.
These weren’t other circumstances.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SEEING TRACE’S PAIN and frustration hurt.
She couldn’t argue with him. Not when in many ways he was right.
She had kept their son away from him, something that no matter how she tried to make up for, she’d never be able to. In some ways she was no better than her father.
She could remind him that he’d said he didn’t want children, but she’d never presented him with the option of wanting Joss.
“Fine. Stay here.” She gestured to the sofa. “I’ll grab a pillow and a blanket.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need them. You do.”
Was he kidding? Her brow lifted. “I’m sleeping on the sofa?”
He nodded. “If Joss wakes up in the middle of the night, it might scare him to find a strange man on the sofa. Which means I can’t stay on the sofa. Unless you’ve got another bedroom where you can put me, I’m taking your room where I can lock the door to prevent him from finding me unexpectedly.”
He was putting her on the sofa and taking her bed.
“I haven’t changed my sheets this week.”
He didn’t look impressed. “I’ve survived worse than dirty sheets.”
She’d done this. She’d set this wheel into motion. No, she hadn’t really expected him to show up at her house and announce he was staying, but it wasn’t as if she’d expected to tell him they’d had a child and him to say, That’s nice and never to hear from him again.
Or maybe she had.
Maybe she’d simply been appeasing her conscience and had hoped he’d stay away so she could go on with the way things had been before seeing him again.
“What am I supposed to tell my mother?”
