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“Let’s get you out of here so you can have a fresh diaper.”
He could pretend that escaping that office was for his daughter’s sake, but he was the one who had to get out before he said something that could make things worse. As if that was even possible. No, they’d hit the rock bottom of horrible the moment he’d received the news that his child might not be his.
Now the DNA test to prove or disprove that premise would be delayed so that the hospital lab could fawn over his family and confirm whether Jace was the real Ace.
He pushed the button for the hospital’s wheelchair-accessible door and waited for it to swing open before pushing the stroller through. “You okay, little darlin’?”
He could have kicked himself for his outburst in the administration office that made Harper tear up, but she seemed to have no lasting effects. Instead, she happily chewed on her keys, still the same sunshine she’d been every day of her life, no matter who provided day care for her.
She pulled the toy away from her lips and began another round of her “da-da-da-da” song that she’d begun recently, though she hadn’t added any more words to her collection yet. A lump of emotion collected in his throat. Her tune got him every time.
As he reached the curb of the circular drive where cars lined to pick up patients, he paused. Willow Merrill hadn’t caught up with him, but why did he care? She wanted nothing to do with him, and that feeling was mutual. What was her problem anyway? From the moment she’d learned his last name, she’d looked furious.
What had his family done this time? Had one of his brothers dated her and dumped her in the past? Asher might have had his share of dating escapades, before Nora, but he was innocent when it came to Willow Merrill. He’d never met her before. He was certain of it.
There was no way he would have forgotten those intense eyes, the color of the seasoned terra-cotta pots at the main house, not to mention that mass of deep brown curls. Luna had twisted her fingers in it a few times while they’d sat in that office. He hated that he’d been jealous of that baby and her lucky hands.
Asher blinked away the image and the unwelcome tingles that came with it. What was he thinking? He didn’t date anymore. He wanted only one female in his life, and this one needed him to provide regular bottles, fun nighttime baths and dry diapers in addition to the lavish attention she deserved.
He wouldn’t let Harper down by losing focus on what was important. He was her dad. First. Always. And if he were considering some private comfort, it wouldn’t be with someone who could take away his child.
“Were you waiting for me?”
Asher jerked his head to find the woman he had not just been thinking about
pushing her stroller up behind him.
“No. Just trying to catch my breath.” At least the second part was true. If he had been waiting for her, it was only because he’d learned she owned a day-care center. There couldn’t be any other reason.
“I get that.”
Willow appeared to be taking a few fortifying breaths herself as she stared out into the parking lot. She was tall, he couldn’t help noticing. Barely shorter than his six feet in height, even in slip-on tennis shoes. Her legs were also impossibly long beneath the cuffs of her jean shorts. He hadn’t missed those legs before, but he doubted any straight man under ninety would have. And those older than that, only because they wouldn’t get a good look at them. Willowy. Strange how she seemed to fit her name, as if her parents had done an excellent job of predicting the statuesque woman their daughter would become.
In the stroller next to her, Luna flailed her arms and struggled against her harness straps as if to remind him she was there.
“You hate being trapped in there, don’t you, Miss Luna?” He smiled down at her. “Couldn’t blame her if she hates this whole day. I know I do.”
Willow’s posture drooped then, her head tilting forward, as if the weight of the information they’d learned that morning had parked on her shoulders. Her hands shifted from the stroller handle to the base of her neck, where she bunched those riotous curls.
She must have misjudged the ramp on the pavement, though, as the stroller pitched forward. A shriek escaping her throat, she lunged for it, but Asher caught the runaway cart first, while keeping one hand on Harper’s stroller.
“Whoa there, NASCAR Nellie. Trying to make a break for it?”
“Thanks for the catch,” she said as she reclaimed the handle, “but she probably isn’t in the mood for jokes after that meeting. She’s been working up to a good cry from the moment we got here. And you can see how much she hates her stroller.”
Asher would have asked Willow if she was talking about her daughter or herself when she’d spoken of the impending tears, if Luna hadn’t picked the moment to prove her wrong by throwing her head back and giggling.
“Does she always sound like that when she’s crying? If so, I need to come up with more one-liners.”
Willow gave him a mean look but then shrugged. “Further proof that I don’t know anything today.”
“Me, neither. I feel like I’ve just been kicked in the head by a horse, and I’m still expected to make life decisions for my kid.”
Automatically, his gaze shot to Harper, who was still chewing on her toy, but he couldn’t help but to look back at Luna again. Was it possible that she was his child instead? No. Harper was his. He was certain of it.
When he glanced up again, he caught Willow studying Harper, her brows drawn together. He knew the questions in her eyes were mirroring his own. Their gazes connected for a few seconds, and then they both looked away.
He could have kissed Luna, who picked that moment for another round of giggles. Until she lifted both arms. To him. He swallowed, his gaze flitting to the child’s mother. Her frown made it clear what she thought about that.
