AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Drake stepped in, uninvited. “I’m not staying as a guest.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering, and not from the cold. “Then why are you here?” My voice hitched unnaturally.
“Because”—he swallowed hard—“this is where you and Jameson are.”
I had zero words. Even my thoughts were discombobulated. The only thing I did know was that when Izzy woke up in the morning, she was going to really wish she hadn’t drunk all that hot chocolate. Her hangover headache was going to have nothing on the headache staring right at me, his eyes begging me to let him stay.
There was a better-than-average chance I was about to make another foolish decision, and wouldn’t you know it, a man was involved.
Chapter Eight
My eyes darted between the fire and Drake, only because staring straight at him seemed creepy. I couldn’t believe he was here. Martez had already gone to bed in the Westley and Buttercup room. He was obviously uncomfortable and had skedaddled almost as soon as I had let them in. I kept wondering what I would have done if I were still Drake’s assistant and he’d just found out he had a secret child. You know, after wanting to claw his old lover’s eyes out. I’m sure Martez was probably simultaneously dreading and preparing for the possibility that the best secret of my life was going to be discovered. It made my stomach clench.
Drake and I settled in the parlor. I say settled, but I wasn’t the least bit comfortable. I was curled up in the oversized chair, and Drake had taken the couch. He switched from scrubbing a hand over his stubbled face to leaning over and gripping his legs as if he wanted to vomit.
Perhaps he was feeling too human and it overwhelmed him.
“I thought you would be back in LA by now,” I braved saying into the heavy silence.
Drake tipped up his beautiful head and met my eyes. “I wasn’t heading back to LA. I was meeting the director and production team for the new Kaden Chandler film in Jackson Hole for some pre-pro and skiing.”
That was Hollywood talk for preproduction. It involved anything from securing locations and permits to arranging equipment rentals.
“You’re filming there again?”
“And possibly here in Fair Hollow.”
I grabbed my throat. “Oh, that’s close.” Not like Jackson Hole wasn’t close, but it was on the other side of the mountain, and no one knew me or Jameson there.
“Yes, it threatens your secret,” he hissed.
“He’s not a secret. He’s a child. My child.”
“Our child, Charlotte. One you should have told me about a long time ago,” he snapped.
“I know that, but you didn’t exactly make it easy.”
He leaned back against the couch. “I know.”
“Drake, why are you really here?”
He rubbed his temples. “Charlotte,” he sighed. “You . . . you . . .”
“I what?”
He spluttered some more. It was like reading his notes earlier today—maddening.
“Just spit it out,” I begged.
“You infuriate me,” he spat.
“I infuriate you?” I pointed at my chest. “What did I ever do to you?” You know, besides keep his son a secret from him. Other than that, I had been pretty amazing to him, if I do say so myself.
He stood and paced. “You made me feel,” he growled.
“I’m so sorry.” I oozed sarcasm.
“You could never leave well enough alone.” He threw his hands up in the air. “No. You had to push and push, making me believe I could be someone I’m not.”
“Do you want me to apologize?”
“No, I want you to realize I was never the man you wanted or needed me to be,” he said flatly.
“Then why are you here?” I cried.
He threw himself back on the couch and let out a heavy breath. “Because, for six years I’ve tried to get you out of my head, and I can’t. Because . . . I want to be the man you saw in me,” he admitted, though it sounded painful.
I held my stomach, telling the butterflies to knock off the twerking. Apparently, they’d moved on from lap dancing. We were no longer making poor choices. For crying out loud, the man had made love to me and then ignored me. And his track record with women wasn’t anything to write home about. So, I stood on shaky legs and swallowed down all the things my heart wanted to say and went with my head. “Let’s get something straight, Drake.” I used the most intimidating voice I could muster, which, let’s be real, wouldn’t scare a mouse. “No one is saying I want you or need you.” No one wasn’t saying it either.
Drake blinked a few times, like he didn’t hear me right or couldn’t believe what I was saying.
“That’s right,” I added, like I was tough or something. Really, I was a cream puff. “But the fact remains that you are Jameson’s father, so you can stay here. Just know, what I say goes when it comes to him. He will not know who you are until you can prove to me that you plan to stick around and be part of his life. If you knowingly hurt him, I will . . . I will . . .” My tough act was fizzling quickly.
