Their Secret Son

Joe’s jaw tensed, and she feared he was digging in his heels for a battle of attrition. Was he unwilling to understand, to care about her dilemma, her personal stake in all of this?

“I’m not into secrets,” he said.

She knew that. That’s why she’d never told Joe about having to sneak out to meet him. “I’ll tell my dad the truth, but I don’t want him finding out until I think his health can handle it.”

“So what are you asking me? Not to tell your father?”

“I’m asking that you honor my secret and my privacy. If I share that information with you, I want you to promise not to tell anyone until I say it’s okay.”

Before Joe could speak, the waitress brought their food. The silence was almost overpowering, as Kristin awaited Joe’s decision.

She studied her plate and poked at her food. But it wasn’t just nervousness and a guilty conscience that made her stomach all atwitter. It was the sandy-haired man across the table, the man she’d never been able to shake from her blood. Or her heart.

Time heals, the old adage said. But did it? Why did her old lover continue to stir up feelings and desires she’d buried years ago?

A wave of guilt splashed over her, as she thought about Dylan, her fiancé. He was a good man. Solid. Dependable. Willing to make a commitment. Yet, if truth be told, he didn’t stir the same fire that Joe did.

But there was more to life than hot sex. And quite frankly, a warm, dependable soul who would stick by a woman through good times and bad would prove to be invaluable in the years to come.

“Okay, Kristin. I promise to keep your secret.” His gaze cornered her, demanded to hear the words. “Am I Bobby’s father?”

The tears slipped down her cheeks, revealing the words her mouth couldn’t seem to form. She nodded her yes.

Joe had suspected Bobby was his son. Kristin’s affirmation only validated what he already sensed. He could tell by looking, by some kind of built-in parental instinct, maybe.

A part of him wanted to lash out and be angry that she’d kept their child a secret from him. But guilt came flying back in his court. After all, he’d been the one to end things that day at the ball field. And he’d made it clear he didn’t want to see her again. He couldn’t blame her for staying away.

And as long as he was placing blame, he’d throw some out at their fathers—hers for being so obstinate about wanting what was best for his daughter and his for being a low-life jerk.

But that didn’t change the current fact.

Joe Davenport had a son. A boy who was a lot like him.

And for some reason that didn’t make any sense whatsoever, it pleased him to know he and Kristin had made a baby.

He’d loved her so much back then. Of course, that was before he knew how much her father hated him, how star-crossed their relationship had been. Still, their short time together had been good—almost magical—while it lasted.

And they’d made a baby.

“Think it happened out at the lake, that afternoon?” he asked. “Or at the cabin in Julian?”

“Huh?”

His question seemed to take Kristin aback, as though she’d forgotten about the day she’d first given herself to him.

“We only made love a couple of times,” he continued. “And I guess it really doesn’t matter when Bobby was conceived.”

“It was at the cabin,” she said, her voice soft and gentle. “I’m not sure how I know, but—”

“You’re probably right.” Joe had that same feeling. The day had been special. Perfect. And if God chose to bless the world with a new baby, that would have been the time.

A sappy grin rose to the surface, and he couldn’t stop the excitement that bubbled inside. He wanted to be the kind of father he’d missed having. A father like Harry Logan, who always had time to listen, time to advise. Time to throw back his head and laugh, to enjoy an afternoon with his family, even if that family included a bunch of onetime bad boys like Joe.

Yep, Joe wanted to be that kind of dad to Bobby. He wanted to have backyard barbecues and toss footballs around on the grass. He wanted to take his boy fishing. And teach him how to ride a bike, if Bobby didn’t know how already. They’d play catch. And—

Kristin kept brushing the tears from her eyes.

Sheesh. Was she unhappy about telling him? Or sorry she’d kept the secret? Joe wasn’t sure what broke the floodgates, but he felt responsible. He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m happy about this.”

She looked up at him, surprise splashed across her face. “You are?”

“Yeah.” He shot her a smile that he hoped would help ease her mind, in one way or another. “I like the idea of having a kid.”

“But you understand, we have to take this slow. Right?”

“Yes,” Joe told her, “but I want you to understand something, too.”

“What’s that?”

“I might have agreed to hold off announcing my fatherhood, but that doesn’t mean I don’t expect to be involved in my son’s life.”

She nodded. “I understand.”

“Starting immediately.”

“What do you mean?” She pulled her hand back, and her eyes widened. “You promised not to say anything.”

“I won’t. I’ll keep the secret. But I didn’t say anything about staying away. I’ll start off by being his friend, you know, a fireman who took an interest in a fatherless boy.”

She seemed to relax, to accept his compromise. “I suppose that will work.”

“Some guys might not like a surprise like this, Kristin. But I’m not just any guy. I want to take an active part in Bobby’s life. And I plan to be the best dad in the whole world.”

She fingered the stem of her wineglass, then looked at him. Lord, she had the prettiest green eyes he’d ever seen. He’d missed gazing at her.

“But this is a secret for now,” she said.

“For now.” Joe shot her a smile. “But we’re going to tell Bobby. Soon.”

“When the time is right,” Kristin insisted. “You promised to let me decide when that would be.”

He had, although he was having cold feet about the promise. Still, he owed her something. He’d gotten her pregnant, then told her he didn’t love her anymore, left her to fend for herself and the baby.

Yep. He owed her something. And he’d given his word to keep quiet until she said the time was right.

But as far as he was concerned, that day couldn’t come too soon.

Thomas Reynolds might not think Joe was good enough for his daughter. And maybe he was right. But Bobby was a Davenport.