Reunited By Their Secret Son

He shook his head. ‘So how do you see this working? I have to confess I’m struggling here. Only, if I have a son I will do my best by him. No hesitation.’

‘I need to know you’re committed to him. That you’re not going to randomly bounce in and out of his life and hurt him.’

Shock rippled through his gaze. ‘You’ve got a pretty poor opinion of me. I know we don’t know each other very well, but you need to know I wouldn’t do that.’

They didn’t know each other at all, really. They’d made a baby but all she knew was that he was beautiful and completely unreliable. ‘I’m sure you believe you’ll be the best of fathers but I’m not willing to take a risk on you spending time with Lachie if you’re going to disappear when something else comes along.’

His eyes darkened to navy as anger started to rise again. ‘I have a right to get to know him. I’m sure there’s a law or something.’

That was the last thing she needed: some kind of injunction to add to being a working single mum and surviving each day. It was in all their interests to work this through smoothly. ‘I know. I know you have. But let’s just do it slowly.’ Then she could assess his impact on Lachie’s life and flight risk. ‘Baby steps.’

Finn glanced down at his leg and his whole body tensed as if he’d just remembered something. He looked back at her with a bleakness that tugged at her heart and raised so many more questions. ‘I don’t know if I’m even capable of that.’

CHAPTER THREE (#u16bdb405-09c5-529d-9a23-a82fef0e6688)

‘WHAT HAPPENED?’ As Sophie followed the line of his gaze down to his leg, she lost the straightened back and tight jaw and softened into everything he remembered from that long-ago night: concerned, gentle, compassionate. Colour had come back into her cheeks and her eyes were warmer now as she looked back at him. Her head tilted to one side and she smiled. Just enough to make his gut tighten.

It made him want to tell her everything. But he stuck to the medical details; she’d be able to find them easily enough if she looked him up on the health board database. Unethical, but possible, if she felt the need. ‘It wasn’t just the phone that fell down the mountain. I went with it.’

‘Wow. That must have been scary. But you’re alive, that’s something. Thank goodness.’ She looked at his leg again, then at the rest of him and it felt strange to be scrutinised by a woman who’d seen him at his physical best. ‘How badly were you hurt?’

He wondered what she was expecting him to answer when he numbered off his injuries. ‘A broken pelvis. Cracked spine. Dislocated shoulder. Displaced collarbone. Head injury. Frostbite. Hypothermia...’ He waited for all that to sink in, watched her eyes widen. He looked for pity, thought he might have seen it mixed in with her shock. ‘And my pièce de résistance...lower left leg amputation.’

‘Oh,’ she gasped. He searched for revulsion now but didn’t see that. ‘I’m so sorry—that must have been hard to get over.’

Was an understatement. ‘I’m still on that upward climb.’ He armoured himself against the inevitable. ‘So this is where you leave, right? After all, a useless father is worse than none at all.’

She frowned, taken aback. ‘Are you for real? Is that what you think? I’ve had a useless, absent father myself, which is why I don’t want that for my son, and I work with enough broken families to see how much damage half-hearted and selfish parents can wreak on a child’s life. I just want him to have a dad, Finn. One leg or two, I don’t think he’d care so long as he was around on a regular basis.’

But Finn cared, and because of that he was having second thoughts about getting involved at all. What kind of pride would shine in his son’s eyes when his dad lost the fathers’ race at sports day or needed a chair to watch him play football because standing too long hurt too damned much? None.

He felt a tight fist of pain in his gut. And how could he protect his son from hurt? He didn’t exactly have a good track record on that front. If he’d been a better person, been more reliable and less self-focused, his mother might still be alive and he might have had two legs instead of one.

No. Much better that he took some steps back and didn’t get involved. ‘Maybe it would be better if I stayed out of the picture. Stay in touch, obviously. I’m invested here, and I’ll pay what’s necessary and more. I imagine I owe a lot in child support.’

Those caramel eyes burnt hot. ‘What? You think this is about money? You think I want anything from you? I’ve managed by myself and can keep on doing that if you don’t care enough to see him.’

He thought about the little kid he’d met yesterday, the grumpiness that he’d clearly inherited from his dad. The sunny smile he’d got from his mum. Something fierce bloomed in Finn’s chest. ‘I care enough to not see him. I don’t want him to be ashamed. That’s a lot to live with for a child.’

‘For God’s sake, Finn, listen to yourself. He needs love. He needs a dad in his life, someone who is emotionally available, but if you’re not up to it we’ll be just fine without you.’ Sophie scraped her chair back and stood. She tugged a piece of paper out of her bag and thrust it at him. ‘I’ve written some details down for you, just in case you lose your phone again. It’s all there: date of birth, weight at birth, milestones, medical issues. Likes, dislikes. I thought you might want to know. And he drew you a picture on the back.’

He had his first picture. From his son. Holy hell. That gave him a jolt of pride right in the centre of his chest.

Sophie was shaking her head, her ponytail swinging, eyes blazing. So utterly at odds with the woman he’d shared the night with. This was a lioness protecting her young. She was vibrant, strong and determined. This was what parenting did to you and even though he’d only known about his child for a matter of minutes he felt the stirrings of that inside him. ‘He drew me a picture?’

‘Don’t worry; I just said it was for the nice man at the clinic. I didn’t mention your real connection, just in case—’

‘In case I didn’t want to know?’ Shame flooded through him; of course he wanted to know. How could he not? How could he deny the boy this right? Deny himself the dreams he’d had growing up? He picked up the paper, which had some of the superhero stickers on it and brown and yellow crayon squiggles. His heart contracted. ‘I won’t lose it, I promise. Thank you. Please sit down; let’s talk this through.’

Her eyebrows rose. ‘No. You need time to think and I have to go; it’s bedtime and I don’t want to wear out my friend’s generosity.’

‘I imagine things have been difficult for you. To get time for yourself.’

She stiffened. ‘I manage.’

He didn’t want her to go and told himself it was because he needed to sort all this out today. ‘We could both go to your house now and talk, work out a plan.’

She took a step back, palms raised. ‘Whoa. No way. A minute ago you wanted to stay away, now you want to see him this minute. Like I said, Finn, we need baby steps and we need to draw up some rules. Have a think about it all and email your expectations through to me. I’ll do the same. Then we can talk further. Then, and only then, can you meet him for a supervised visit.’

‘Supervised visits? You’ve pulled out the big words for this.’ He knew why. He hadn’t exactly proven himself, not just once but repeatedly. He’d wavered from promising he’d be the best father in the world to shying away from the realities of his missing leg and his limitations. But proper unconditional love overrode those things.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know you and I’m damned sure I won’t let you hurt my child. I’m just protecting us all.’

If she was intending to rile him it was working. She was clearly very protective of Lachie, and he admired that, admired how she’d brought up a good kid on her own. But her lack of faith in him stung.

‘Our child, Sophie. I’m his father; I won’t hurt him.’

She shook her head and he could tell she was not going to give in easily. ‘You provided some DNA, Finn. Let’s just see how much of a father you can be.’

* * *

‘Hi, I’m back! Thanks so much for having him for me.’ Sophie bundled through the door of her late grandmother’s house and found her friend Hannah sitting on the sofa in front of a blazing coal fire, playing with Lachie and a digital tablet. Her heart squeezed as he looked up and grinned. Her boy. Just hers for a few precious months, really, and now she was having to share him... Was she doing the right thing by letting Finn in?

She didn’t really have a choice if she was going to be able to live with herself, one way or another. Time would tell.

She let all the anger and irritation and the surprising jolt of attraction go—the guy had been through a lot and yet he was still gorgeous, still capable of being serious and yet funny. Still hot enough to make her heart race and her palms itch to touch him. He was all the things she’d promised herself not to get involved with. She needed to be just a mother now. ‘How’s my boy been?’

‘Very good—eaten all his supper and had a nice play.’ Hannah wriggled out from Lachie’s grip, planted a kiss on his head and grabbed her coat and bag. ‘Bye-bye, Lachie! Be good for Mummy.’ She leaned close to Sophie and whispered, ‘I thought I’d leave the torture device to you. I’m not brave enough to tackle that. I want him to like me.’

‘The boots and bars? Hush now. They’re for his own good.’

‘I know. I just don’t like conflict.’ Hannah wandered towards the door and waited for Sophie to join her. There was a teasing light in her eyes and Sophie’s heart fell. Because, knowing Hannah, she wouldn’t be allowed to get on with the evening without an interrogation. ‘How was the dad?’

Gorgeous. Enigmatic. Inspiring. Probably useless.

‘Shocked, but I think he’d worked it out. So I’m glad I fronted up and told him.’

‘Does he want to be involved?’

Sophie put down her bag and went to stoke the fire, absentmindedly answering her friend. ‘With Lachie?’

‘Of course with Lachie.’ Hannah glanced over to the little boy on the sofa swiping pages and telling himself the story he knew off by heart, and then back to Sophie. ‘You didn’t think I meant involved with you...’ Her eyes grew. ‘You don’t want...do you? I mean...you did like him once. Enough to sleep with him, and that’s not like you at all.’

‘Hush! No. Of course I don’t want to be involved with him.’ She didn’t. She really didn’t. ‘I can’t trust him as far as I’d throw him. My heart’s not part of the deal, nor my body. I told him Lachie needed a father; I didn’t mention anything about a family.’ Which was ironic, really, given all she’d ever wanted was a proper family of her own. But she had that now. Her and her boy.

Hannah seemed to have other ideas. ‘Still eye candy though?’

‘Outwardly, yes, gorgeous. Inwardly, a little hung up. He had an accident and I think it’s shaken him up.’ But hell, losing a limb would have an effect on...everything. ‘You know it’s not about how good-looking he is; it’s about what he can bring for Lachie. I really wish you’d never got that eye candy information out of me.’