Best Friend’s Daddy Read online

  Now I was paying the price for that.

  I took a gulp of beer. A baby. Stevie was pregnant and she was keeping the kid. She was going to raise it—alone if she had to.

  She was only twenty-one. She shouldn’t have to bear that burden alone. Raising a kid was hard at any age but to do it while so young, and without another parent there to help out…

  That child could have been mine. That stung. If only I’d had us be in a real relationship, she never would’ve gone to that asshole in the first place. She never would’ve had to even think about going anywhere else. It was my fault that she was now alone and essentially abandoned, even if Cameron didn’t realize that was what he’d done.

  I could fire him. Ha. It would fucking serve him right for all of his messed up priorities. He was always getting good tips but really, was it worth it when he was causing problems like this? He’d caused our head chef to quit.

  Although—

  Hmm.

  I nursed my beer, frowning into the distance.

  Cameron having a brief affair with a woman and then unknowingly getting her pregnant, yeah, that fit the bill. I could definitely also see the woman wanting to just go and have her pregnancy out somewhere else, and not wanting Cameron to be involved. I doubted that he’d really be a helpful father, emotionally or financially. He just wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility.

  But Stevie? It didn’t sound like her to do that with Cameron, or someone like him. Especially when she was seeing someone else. Right, yeah, we weren’t in an official relationship but we were still sleeping together and it just… didn’t seem like something Stevie would do, to be with two people at once. At least, not without telling me. She had been a virgin until I’d fucked her, for crying out loud, and maybe some people would jump right into an affair with two people after never having had sex before, but Stevie? No, that just didn’t fit.

  Not to mention, Stevie and I weren’t the most responsible. We didn’t use a condom. I should’ve known better, of course. I was more experienced than she was. I should have insisted on us using something, both for health and to make sure that something like this didn’t happen.

  But whatever I should’ve done… the point remained that I had in fact fucked her without a condom. I could’ve gotten her pregnant.

  Could it be that the baby was mine?

  It felt like a pipe dream. Like something I was just telling myself as a way to cling to Stevie, a fragile hope that I didn’t really have or deserve after I hadn’t appreciated her while she was right in front of me.

  But still. Even if Stevie had been sleeping with Cameron, and I didn’t think she would be with two people at once, how could she really know that it was his? How could she be certain that the child wasn’t actually mine? She couldn’t tell Brooke that it might be mine, of course, and saying she was unsure which of the two men she’d slept with… Brooke would want to know who the other man was, and she wouldn’t rest until she got an answer.

  I had to know. Maybe I was mistaken, maybe this was stupid of me. Maybe Stevie was gone beyond my reach and whatever chance I’d had with her was gone. But I had to know. I couldn’t just leave things the way they were, or I would spend the rest of my life wondering about both about the baby and about what could have been, if only I’d done something.

  I had to go to Sacramento to find out the truth.

  24

  Stevie

  Fridays were always an insanely busy night at the restaurant. Everyone was celebrating the weekend, people were going out on dates… I was running around like a maniac all night while Macintyre barked orders like he was applying to be a drill sergeant. I just wanted to go home.

  The end of the shift was such a relief I nearly cried. I felt like I ached all over and I couldn’t wait to get to get home and collapse into bed. Ugh.

  As I exited the back and headed towards my car, I realized that there was someone standing there, leaning against it.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  It was Michael.

  He looked as handsome as ever, his hair a little windswept by the evening breeze, wearing a button-up blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top couple of buttons undone, and a pair of dark blue jeans. I swallowed, heat flaring up in me. He looked like the hero of an ‘80s movie who had come to sweep me off my feet in the final act of the film.

  If only.

  But after my first moment of elation and arousal, the fear crept in. What was he doing here? Why? And would he - oh God, would he notice my…I wasn’t too far along in my pregnancy, was I?

  I was fucking terrified that he’d notice I was pregnant. I had no idea what to tell him if he asked. Could I lie? But Brooke knew and if I lied to him and he told her… oh this was such a fucking mess.

  “Stevie,” he said as I walked up, and his voice was like a caress. Fuck, I had missed him. So much. It felt like I had a limb reattached to see him there.

  But what could I say? What could I do? I had missed him, yes, I wanted him, yes, but not like this, not with this horrible secret literally sitting in the pit of my stomach.

  “Michael,” I replied. I tried to put on a casual smile, ignoring how my heart ached. “What brings you here?”

  His gaze flicked down over my body and I braced myself, waiting for the exclamation of surprise, the suspicion, all of it…

  Michael’s gaze met mine. “Brooke told me,” he said, his voice a bit rough. “About why you really moved away.”

  Oh, fuck. Of course she did. Brooke was the absolute worst at keeping secrets, she always had been. I could resist a small chuckle. “I should have known. She was the worst, you know in our school, it was said that if you wanted everyone to know something, just go to Brooke and tell her what it was and then say it was confidential. The rumor or whatever would be all around the school by the next morning.”

  Not that Brooke was an avid gossiper or out to hurt anyone. She was just that bad at keeping her mouth shut.

  “You look good,” Michael added, his voice sliding over me like velvet. “I was hoping I could come back to your place. We need to talk.”

  Oh no. Was the restaurant not doing as well as Brooke had thought? Had things taken a turn for the worst again?

  A thousand fears raced through my mind and I couldn’t even keep track of all of them. But I knew there was no way I was getting out of this conversation, so I just nodded. “Okay. Um. You can follow me in your car.”

  Michael agreed.

  The entire drive back, which wasn’t a very long one, my mind raced.

  If Brooke told Michael that I was pregnant, then she likely told him that Cameron was the father. I didn’t think she would leave that part out and if she had, Michael would probably have asked about it anyway. That meant that Michael thought Cameron was the father, that I had been sleeping with Cameron while I had been sleeping with Michael.

  Normally I would never want him to think such a thing. I wouldn’t be with two people at once, and I certainly wouldn’t have kept a secret like that from Michael. The idea of being with Cameron while I had been fucking Michael… it was far too close to what Virginia had done to him.

  No, we weren’t married. We hadn’t even been in a proper relationship. Michael had been clear that he didn’t want that. But still. To fuck some younger flirt and not tell him, while I was also sleeping with him, that was just… no. It didn’t sit right with me.

  But how could I tell him the truth? How could I confess that it was his child when he didn’t want that, didn’t want even to date someone? How could I dump that on him?

  On the other hand, I was a terrible liar. Maybe this would all be a moot point because I would just give the game up anyway.

  Fuck.

  No matter which way I looked at it, it sucked. It felt like my back was to the wall. Like I had no options.

  This was all my own fault. I’d brought this on myself by pushing too fast and too far for what I wanted, instead of letting things evolve more slowly. Now I was stu
ck, and I had to make a choice. I couldn’t be sure what the right course of action was but I had to pick one, and either way, I was scared that at the end of it all I would be alone and heartbroken.

  Well, even more heartbroken than I already had been, anyway.

  We parked out front and then I led him up to my apartment. A studio wasn’t very big, but it felt even smaller once Michael was inside. He seemed to take up the entire space, filling it with his presence, and I both loved and hated it.

  I loved it, because it was him, and I wanted him to take up space. I loved how he filled whatever room he was in, lighting it up, taking effortless command. But I hated it, because it showed me just how small and pathetic my new life was. This was such a sad little apartment, with no real décor, no proper space. Not even the privacy of a bedroom. I couldn’t have guests over and my kid wouldn’t get their own space, either, once they were born.

  It made me feel like I was failing.

  Michael, of course, didn’t look at anything with judgment. He took in the baby crib and the toys and all silently, something deep and heavy in his eyes that I couldn’t quite read. I watched as he slowly circled around the apartment, looking at it all, and then sat down on my bed.

  I wanted him to be on my bed, in my bed, but not like this. Not like this at all. Everything felt so right and so wrong all at once, knocked off-kilter, skewed somehow. And I didn’t know how to knock it all back into place.

  “Were you ever going to tell me you were pregnant?” he asked, his voice soft and heavy.

  I swallowed. “I… I wasn’t sure. I didn’t really know. I haven’t even told my parents yet, it’s all been so fast, I just needed distance, and space, and I’ve been, kind of avoiding telling people, to be honest.”

  “Why? There’s no reason for you to feel ashamed, Stevie. It happens, and you made a choice, an honorable one if you ask me, and you’re going to be a great mother. There are plenty of single parents out there, for whatever reason. It’s nothing to hide from.”

  I nearly burst into tears. God, we were discussing something that was, that had to be painful at least in some way for him, something that had to be shocking him, and here he was comforting me about it. I loved him for it, loved him so much that it felt like every part of me was crying out for him, like plants begging for water in a desert.

  “You have enough on your plate,” I pointed out. “Why bother telling you about a former employee who got knocked up?”

  My tongue tripped a little over ‘former’ employee, but I managed well enough. I was proud of myself for not revealing who did the knocking up. If nothing else, perhaps I could salvage that part of it. Let him walk away thinking I was a two-timing bitch. Let him think whatever he wanted of me. I wasn’t going to let him chain himself to a future he hadn’t asked for, a future that I had chosen. This child was mine and my choice, that didn’t mean that he was obligated to do anything.

  I’d rather he hated me for thinking I had slept with Cameron behind his back, while with him, than have him grow to resent me and his child for giving him a responsibility that he didn’t want. At least this way, he’d be happy.

  Michael raised his eyebrows, and I realized that he had probably noticed my careful avoidance in saying who had knocked me up. He was intelligent, I’d always known that, but now it was really hitting me full-force since that intelligence was being used against me.

  “Brooke seems to think that Cameron is the father,” he told me, as though this might be brand-new information that I wasn’t aware of. He stood up and began to slowly cross the room towards me. I told myself it wasn’t sexy. “Now, why would she come to that conclusion?”

  I shrugged, unsure how to answer. I could lie and say that Brooke must have seen Cameron flirting with me and jumped to conclusions, since as far as she knew there was no one else interested. Or I could lie and say that I had literally told her it was Cameron, instead of the truth which was that I’d just let her assume that it was him, let her fill in the blanks herself.

  Unable to face him anymore, I turned away, walking over towards the little kitchenette. “I could… um… if you’re hungry…” I managed, unsure what I was saying or doing, just knowing that I had to distract myself.

  Michael was there all of a sudden, in my space, his fingers gently taking my chin and turning me towards him.

  My breath caught in my throat as I looked him full in the face. Oh, God, he was so attractive, but more than that, the expression on his face broke my heart. His eyes were so warm and understanding, soft and dark, as they gazed into mine, and I would have kissed him then and there if I’d been able to move.

  “Stevie,” he said, quietly, and fuck, I loved how he said my name, even now, even as hearing him say it broke my heart anew. “Is the baby Cameron’s?”

  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. I was frozen.

  Michael gave a small sigh. “Because I don’t think that the baby is his.”

  His thumb was gently stroking the line of my jaw as he kept my chin between his fingers, forcing me to stay close to him, to keep looking him in the eye. “But even if it is Cameron’s,” he said, each word careful and deliberate, as if he really wanted to make sure that I heard and understood him, “I’m here for you. I want to make sure that your baby gets a father. And if I’m not the biological father, well, people take in kids all the time and give them love, and that’s what makes a parent. Not blood, but care and commitment. You wouldn’t even have to tell anyone I wasn’t, if you would feel better about it.”

  Was he actually saying what I thought he was saying? That he was willing to raise another man’s child, to take on a responsibility that wasn’t his, not by any stretch of the imagination-that he was going to do that so that I didn’t have to do this all alone? So that I could have a co-parent and someone to financially assist me? So that my baby would have a positive male role model?

  I couldn’t handle it anymore. Not the secrets and lies. Not the heartbreak. Not going it alone, or working that stupid job, or the aches and changes in my body. Not my pathetic little apartment in this town that I didn’t even like. None of it.

  To my great shame and horror, I burst into tears.

  25

  Michael

  It put an instant ache in my chest to hear Stevie crying. I pulled her into my arms immediately, cradling her head against my shoulder, holding onto her as tightly as I dared.

  I had never heard Stevie cry, not even when she was a kid and hanging out with Brooke. I knew that she had troubles, of course, all teens did, and all adults did as well, but through it all she’d kept a stiff upper lip, as the Brits would say.

  To see her crying now, to feel as her sobs wracked her body… it told me just how much stress the poor darling woman had been under. I wanted to take it all away, to banish it, and make sure that she never felt that defenseless, or that upset, ever again.

  I kissed the top of her head, and Stevie clung to me like she was drowning and I was the only life raft around. I rubbed her back, and slowly, with a few hiccups and sniffles, her crying began to subside.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her lips brushing against my neck. This was the most intimate we had ever been together. Oh, sure, yes, we had slept together. But this was something entirely different. This was holding one another, this was vulnerability and emotional honestly. There was sex, and there was intimacy. Sometimes they were intertwined, other times they weren’t, and this was definitely the latter.

  “I’ve just been so scared,” she admitted. “Scared and so alone, so lonely—nobody’s here that I really care about, I don’t care about my coworkers, and they don’t care about me, and it’s all just a mess… I feel like shit all the time, and I’ve been terrified about—about telling my parents, and my brother, and worrying that everyone would be disappointed in me, and…” She broke off to cry a little more.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. I was certain by now that the baby was mine, and not Cameron’s, eve
n if she hadn’t verbally admitted it. Did I strike her as the kind of guy who would be angry, or refuse to help her?

  “How could I?” Stevie asked. “I couldn’t add to your troubles. You had so much going on and I couldn’t add a financial burden to that, especially something like a kid when you’d already done the whole fatherhood thing and you didn’t even want a relationship…”

  I was never going to stop wanting to shoot myself in the foot for saying that, was I?

  “…and I was so ashamed, with the review, and I basically helped kill your business, I mean I staked it right through the heart, and I had been so determined to help, I’d been so sure that I could help you, and instead it was all blowing up in my face and I was taking you down with me—and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I fucked it all up.”

  “So you left,” I finished for her.

  Stevie nodded into my shoulder.

  “You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart,” I told her. I could’ve kicked myself for that endearment slipping out, but Stevie didn’t seem to mind. Quite the opposite—she clung to me even harder. “You could never fuck things up for me. If anything, I’m the fuck up here.”

  Stevie jolted a little in surprise. “What? You? Michael, no…”

  “Yes.” I kept rubbing her back. “Hey, I had a really good thing in front of me. You. You were the best thing that had ever happened to me. You had an amazing idea for my restaurant, you were everything I’d ever wanted in a life partner, you were just… everything. And I didn’t make sure that you felt valued while I had you. I was scared and fighting back against it when I should have been embracing it. Embracing you.”