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JP cleared his throat, making his brother and Mickie whip around and face him. “Hey,” he croaked.
The smile that had made Mickie a famous movie star bloomed across her face. “Hi, honey. Come on in.” She reached for his hand, and he allowed her to pull him into the room. “I just can’t stop staring at this beautiful daughter of yours.”
His stomach lurched, and the acrid burn of bile tortured his esophagus. He couldn’t do it. He’d mess this child up for sure.
“Come see her.”
He stepped up to the little crib. Mickie wrapped her arms around one of his. Thankfully, Keith stood back and kept silent.
JP stared down at the sleeping infant.
Lying on her back with her hands up by her head as though in a stick-up, she slept in some sort of fleecy sack. They were right, she had the same near-black hair as the rest of the Benson crew. The same as him. He’d have to wait to check out the eyes. But her nose was all Benson as well. She had pink, pudgy little fingers. Actually, most of her was chubby in that way people seemed to go nuts over in babies. That was a good thing, right? A chunky baby meant healthy, didn’t it? He thought he’d heard that somewhere.
She looked so peaceful, with her little chest rising and falling in a gentle pattern. So peaceful, yet the fear she brought with her had his knees knocking and his fingers trembling.
“Gorgeous, isn’t she?”
Blinking, he nodded with robotic obedience. His throat was too dry to answer.
Mickie remained quiet, letting him absorb the moment. Who knew how long they stood there?
He was supposed to feel something, wasn’t he? Didn’t new fathers experience this intense surge of love and bonding? Wasn’t he supposed to notice the similarities in their appearances and become instantly smitten?
Because he didn’t. All he felt was…detached. Like he was hovering above the room, watching someone else’s life, because he couldn’t possibly be responsible for the living, breathing baby in that crib.
That had to be the Benson in him. The genetic predisposition to be a horrendous parent.
She moved, rolling her head from one direction to the other. A grunt came from her tiny lips. Her little legs flexed then kicked straight out.
“I think she’s waking up,” Mickie said, sounding as though she couldn’t have imagined anything better in the world. “She’s probably hungry. We gave her a bottle before she fell asleep, but Bethany said she typically wakes for a bottle once in the night.”
Waking? No. The clock on Keith’s old nightstand read two a.m. She couldn’t be waking up to eat. At two in the morning, he was typically napping next to whoever’s bed he’d stumbled into that night. Guess that part of his life was over. He’d still be spending the predawn hours with a female, but everything else had changed.
The damn elephant sitting on his chest began to jump up and down.
“Do you want to hold her and give her a bottle?” Mickie asked. For an Oscar-winning actress, she did a shit job of disguising the hope in her voice.
Did he want to hold her?
Kayla. His daughter.
The tiny baby whose fragile life now rested in his incompetent hands.
Her eyes popped open and locked with his.
His breath seized, and the fucking world stopped turning. He was experiencing intense feelings now. But none of them were good, and none of them were paternal.
He backed up, shaking his head. Every cell in his body rejected the idea of touching the baby. He couldn’t. There were too many ways he could hurt her. Too many ways he could fuck up her life right from the start. “No. I—I can’t,” he spat out. Then he fled, ignoring Mickie’s gasp and his brother shouting after him.
He was an unfit parent.
Just like a Benson.
CHAPTER FIVE
“THREE DAYS,” HANNAH heard the almost-whispered voice say from behind her. “It’s been three days, Mickie, and he hasn’t even touched the baby.”
She froze. Were they talking about JP? He hadn’t held Kayla yet? What the heck? How was that possible? Had her parents been right about him? Had she made a huge mistake allowing the social worker to take Kayla to her father? Should she have pressed her parents’ attorney to do more, like they’d wanted?
“It’s like he’s pretending she’s not even there. I’m starting to worry.”
Her insides twisted. Maybe her parents had been wise in sending her. If JP was neglecting Kayla, she wouldn’t hesitate to intervene. Heck, she’d raise Kayla herself before she let someone unfit have custody of her innocent niece.
Hannah was pretty sure that voice belonged to Ronnie. Michaela’s had a familiar ring from all the movies she’d watched starring Scarlett.
A heavy sigh followed. “I know.” That was Michaela. “I’m just not sure what to do about it.”
A waitress had sat the two striking women in the booth directly behind Hannah.
