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Abigail wiggled a few more times, then let go. “It’s okay. It’s not ready yet. Maybe tomorrow.” She shot a smile at all of us. “Maybe I’ll lose it like that man.” She mimed punching her jaw. “His tooth flew right out and bounced.”
Justin groaned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for her to see that part.”
“It’s okay. She’s seen worse. I just don’t want it to become a habit.” Lucy heaved a sigh and palmed the back of her neck. The slim column begged to be kissed, but I restrained myself.
After coming down her throat in an orgasm that made my knees buckle, I should be satisfied for the night. I had a feeling that I’d never be truly satisfied with Lucy. I’d always want more of her, no matter what.
“What’s the plan?” Justin asked.
I eased my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for Lucy again. I wanted to hold her so bad that my chest ached. It made no sense, but the longing was a constant throb. “I’m getting the test.” I eyed Lucy, waiting for her response.
She chewed on her bottom lip, her face scrunched up in indecision. After a painful silence, she nodded. “Yes. We’ll get the test.” She held her hand out, palm up. “But you have to know something, Zachary.”
I shuddered at the sound of my name in that low voice. “What?”
“It won’t make much of a difference.” She set her hand in the center of my chest and lowered her voice so that I had to lean close to hear.
Desperation clawed through me. I’d wanted kids for years. This was my chance to have that dream finally come true. My heart ached with the need to have this behind us so I could become Abigail’s father. “What are you talking about?”
Things with Lucy were complicated but this was the beginning of something great. Perfection, even. I would never find another woman who made me feel the way Lucy did. Even in college, that one night we spent together, I’d known then there was something special about her.
Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away furiously, her nose turning red at the tip. “My dad will be furious with you.”
“What? Why? I didn’t know about her.” I couldn’t bring myself to say her name just yet. My voice threatened to break even thinking it. My daughter. My Abigail. I had a daughter. I didn’t need the reassurance of a paternity test to tell me what was right in front of my eyes.
“You don’t understand.” Lucy groaned and dropped her hand. “He was so disappointed in me when I came home pregnant. I’d failed him. If you’re her father…” Her head moved side to side in a distressed wag. “When he finds out, he’ll be furious. And it won’t change anything. A relationship will still be off-limits.”
Confusion battled with the rush of affection brewing in my chest. I watched Abigail over Lucy’s head. She bobbed her head side to side, humming and chewing without a care in the world. “But I’m her father. He can’t stop me from seeing my daughter.”
“No,” Lucy agreed. “But he can still cut you from the team. He can still fire me and refuse to let me see you. He can keep you and me from having a relationship. And he will. Being Abigail’s father won’t change anything.”
Hurt bloomed so fast that I staggered back a step. I would have a relationship with my daughter, but I still couldn’t have Lucy? That was ridiculous. Being with Lucy made the most sense of anything in my life.
I lowered my head so we were eye to eye. “It changeseverything.”
23
LUCY
Ibundled up Abigail and left the hotel after promising Zachary that I’d think about our options. I knew what was right. He deserved every chance to be Abigail’s father. But how did I explain all of this to the little girl chattering away in the backseat? She’d loved spending time with Zachary and the others. She’d have questions about the test and what it was for.
While telling her the truth made the most sense, I couldn’t get rid of the niggle of doubt in the back of my mind. What if I told her that I thought Zachary was her father, but then the test proved otherwise? She’d be devastated. Lying to her about the reason for the test hurt almost as much, but it made more sense.
What a mess.
My thoughts churned the whole way home, through the night as I put Abigail to bed, and into the next morning. I had to talk to someone. Someone with a level head and a heart that would take in all sides of the problem and give me an honest answer.
I needed my mother. Checking my phone, I eyed the schedule on the desk and sighed. Dad would be on his way to practice. Saturday morning practices were required once the season was underway. If they didn’t have a game, Dad made them splitup and make their own teams and play like it was a game. He claimed it helped cultivate teamwork while keeping the competitive spirit alive. I believed him. I’d seen some of theirplayfulgames through the years. Winning one of those practice games was almost as coveted as winning a real game.
Lennox, Justin, and Zachary would all be at practice today. They wouldn’t miss it. Despite last night’s incredible conclusion, they’d go about their lives today like nothing happened.
Which left me with the chance to talk to Mom without Dad’s scowling and his hints of judgment. I didn’t need him to look down his nose at me and remind me that I should have been more careful. Much as he loved Abigail, he still didn’t understand my weakness that night. Mom might not understand, but she’d listen and she wouldn’t judge. I needed that serene, listening ear more than I cared to admit.
Rolling from the bed, I rushed through a quick shower and threw on the most comfortable but appropriate clothes I could find. Leggings, a sweatshirt, fuzzy boots, and a knit cap made up the ensemble, and I didn’t give two shits that I looked like a half-asleep gargoyle when I saw myself in the bathroom mirror.
Abigail shuffled out of her room, rubbing her eyes and yawning. She blinked sleepily at me. “Where we going?”
“I thought we’d go see Gram.” I shot off a text to let Mom know we were on our way. She answered right back with an emoji of a stack of pancakes. I showed it to Abigail. “She’s making pancakes.”
