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Almost every night we had sex. Lots and lots of sex. And we spent the night in each other’s arms and usually woke up in a tangle—unless I was too hot and got up to prowl when my thoughts became too much.
We’d gone to The Spinning Wheel to play pool one night and besides the occasional whispers and interested glances, we’d been ignored for the most part. Which was just fine by us. She’d mentioned hanging out with Mickey, a double date with her latest guy, but it hadn’t happened yet. I was hoping to bring Honey to a Broadway show in the city later in the month, and of course the holidays were coming up…
This Sunday dinner was the last one before Thanksgiving.
Holidays were big things for couples. A time to get closer or to grow further apart. Just how was I supposed to tell Honey she’d be meeting the daughter I’d hidden from everyone with literally no notice?
Who just happened to be not much younger than she was?
The shithole I’d dug for myself was getting deeper all the time. But that wasn’t Reagan’s fault. I’d be damned if I let her be touched by any of this mess.
“Reagan?” I asked softly into the silence. Had I heard a sniffle?
“Are you sure, Dad? I don’t want to put you out. I know you’re not sure I should be doing this. I mean, moving for school. And for you.” Her voice sounded small.
Not at all like the usual boisterous girl I was so proud of despite no one on the planet having any clue she was mine.
Just her and her mother, who was now marrying her “soulmate” Kyle she’d met online and planning to move across the country.
I braced my head in my hand and worked to keep my voice level. “I’m absolutely sure you know your own mind. I’m definitely sure I can’t wait to see you. You really think you’re going to travel several hours to come here and then stay in a hotel?” I ignored her mention of Gigi and Gramps. Ignoring Penelope’s parents fit their treatment of me for all these years. “I have a couple of spare bedrooms so there’s plenty of room for you.”
“Thanks.” Her smile came through the line loud and clear.
“I’d like for you to meet someone though. Well, a bunch of someones actually.” I let out an awkward laugh. “Your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. But I realize that might be a little overwhelming all at once, so that’s totally up to you. But maybe Grandma’s—” and how weird was that to say, “—famous chicken pot pie will help sweeten the deal.”
“No, I want to meet them. Your family’s really big, right? Chicken pot pie is my favorite. Mom’s is always from a box.”
“Don’t ever say such blasphemous words around Grandma. She’s all about home-cooking, all the way. She would never so much as buy a single frozen dinner.”
I wouldn’t mention the stack of exactly that in my freezer. What my mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
I hadn’t inherited the skill for cooking like Murphy. Hell, even Penn could whip up a mean shrimp scampi. Travis was as useless in the kitchen as I was. I had one or two meals I could make in a pinch and had a signature pie. Period.
Thank God Honey was a whiz when it came to both cooking and baking. We would never starve with her around.
You think this is more than temporary? Even if there was a chance it was, your almost adult daughter will put the end to that. Honey’s at a different place in her life right now.
Reagan giggled. “Okay, gotcha. Message received. So I can’t tell her how I’ve been nuking my own Hot Pockets for breakfast for years?”
“No.” I frowned. “Your mom doesn’t make your breakfast?”
“I’m seventeen, Dad. I’ve been dressing myself for years too.”
Every time she so offhandedly called me Dad my stomach twisted. I wanted that so badly. I wanted to be her father in all the ways that counted and out in the light, not in the shadows. The only reason I hadn’t shouted it from the rooftops already and damn the promise I’d made to her mother was due to Reagan. I didn’t want to put her in the middle of our drama and cause her one moment’s pain. She was the first person I thought of when I woke and the last I thought of when I slept just as she had been since her birth 17 and a half years ago.
My baby was almost eighteen. Almost legally an adult even when she’d never ever been officially my child.
“I know you are, sweetheart.” My eyes smarted and I tipped my head back, staring up at the pinprick lights in the ceiling until my vision wavered. And the wetness dissipated. “But you’ll always be my baby.”
I turned my head at the flash of tan the color of our uniforms. My throat tightened at the fury locking Maverick’s jaw.
Fucking A. So much for hoping not to be overheard.
Getting sloppy. You know better to keep your voice down—or better yet, not talk about any of this here.
But my secrets were spilling out all over the place now. It wasn’t possible to keep the lid on them any longer.
“I have to go. Work stuff. I’ll call you later, okay?”
