The Navy Seal's Rescue

“No, actually, I’ve let it go. I don’t think he ever recovered from my mom’s death, and he never will. It’s sad, and if I thought I could help him I would. But honestly, I think there’s a part of him that blames me. After all, she died giving me life.”

“Of course he doesn’t blame you.” Cricket knew Ginny’s dad. Robert Landry was a well-known attorney, and not just in Rhode Island. “That’s completely irrational.”

“Oh, and you have two perfectly rational parents?”

Cricket let out a strangled laugh. “Good point.” She reached for a glass that wasn’t there. “Did anyone ask if you wanted a drink yet?”

“They probably figured we’ve had our limit.”

“Probably.” She leaned to the side, scanning the room for a waitress. And found someone so much better. “Oh, hello. Did you see the bartender? Nice. Despite the fact he looks as if he just rolled out of bed.”

Ginny looked over her shoulder. “Despite? I think he looks yummy just as he is. I wonder if he’s the owner.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m guessing he’s midthirties? Most of the employees are barely legal drinking age.”

“True. He’s not messing around, either. He’s really whipping out those drinks.” She liked his lean, athletic build, the broad shoulders that filled out his wrinkled T-shirt. Even from clear across the room she could see the play of muscles across his back as he turned and grabbed a bottle off the shelf.

He startled her by swinging a sudden look in her direction. “Sorry,” he called out. “Be right with you.”

Cricket felt the heat surge up her throat to her face. How had he known she was—?

“Was he talking to you?” Ginny asked, turning her head for another peek at him.

“I guess so. Was I that obvious?”

“He probably thinks you’re impatient for a drink.”

Cricket could only hope. “Tell me what you wanted to talk about,” she said, giving her complete attention to her friend.

“Actually, I need your advice on something.”

“As an attorney or a friend?”

Ginny looked surprised, and Cricket couldn’t explain what prompted her to make the distinction. “Both I hope.”

“Okay, I’ll be happy to do what I can.”

“It’s about Tilda. Or more to the point, about her father.”

“Wait. Is this a custody issue?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe.” Ginny sighed. “I really don’t know.”

Cricket drew in a deep breath and leaned forward. “First off,” she said, “you should know that family law isn’t in my wheelhouse. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help in some way. Even if it turns out I recommend someone good for you to contact.”

Ginny nodded. “I understand.”

“Has Tilda’s father been in her life at all?”

“No.”

“Did you name him on the birth certificate?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Does he even know she exists?”

“Not really.”

Cricket leaned back and smiled. “You’re going to have to tell me a bit more about what’s going on. Does Tilda want to search for him? Is that what’s bringing all this up?”

“No, but I expect she will soon.” Ginny shrugged. “If for no other reason than she’s getting to be at that age, you know?”

“How old is she now?”

“Fourteen. I have pictures if you want to see them later,” Ginny said, grinning proudly.

“Your daughter’s a teenager? How is that even possible?”

Ginny chuckled. “You never were very good at math.”

“All right, come on, let’s see the pictures.” Cricket thought back to her first visit home after graduating from college. She’d run into Ginny at the local supermarket. It had startled her to discover Ginny had a kid, which certainly explained why she’d left Julliard. All Cricket had been able to think was how horrible it must be for her. Her friend had shown so much promise. And Ginny was a smart girl, it seemed impossible that she’d have unprotected sex. Yet she couldn’t have planned the pregnancy either...

Ginny handed over her phone. “Scroll through as many as you want. I’ve got a million of them.”

Cricket smiled at the dark-haired preteen striking a goofy pose. The girl didn’t resemble Ginny, but maybe the father. “She’s a doll,” Cricket said, continuing through the photos. “She seems to have such a sweet disposition.”

“Ah, you must be looking at the ones before she hit puberty.”

“Ha. I bet she’s not half as bad as we were.”

Ginny sniffed. “As you, maybe. I was a good kid.”

Cricket glanced up and glared. Then she sighed. “Okay, you’re probably right.”

“Probably?”

“All right already.” Cricket couldn’t resist a few more pictures as it occurred to her that she was actually feeling a twinge of envy. Where was that coming from? She hadn’t thought much about kids, not for a while. That’s why she’d been okay hooking up with Grant. Her whole world was her job, although that might be changing in the very near future.

Just as she was about to hand over the phone to Ginny, a deep, raspy voice stopped her short.

“Sorry for the wait, ladies. What can I get you?”

Cricket looked up into a pair of gray eyes. He was even better looking up close. His jaw was dark with stubble, which normally would’ve been a turnoff for her. But with his lean, tanned face and firm mouth, faintly curved as he held her gaze, he was the best-looking man she’d seen in a long time.

Ginny cleared her throat. “I’ll have a frozen margarita, easy on the salt.”