Papa Bear (Finding Fatherhood Book 1) (3 page)

The baby would likely need supplies she didn’t have available, and it was clear Angel was ready for sleep. Despite his enthusiasm and the way he’d poured on the charm during dinner, it was obvious with a quick look that Lucas was as worn-out as the baby. She smothered a yawn of her own, realizing she was still tired from her unaccustomed waking early that morning. Knowing they all needed their rest, and it was far too soon to proceed past a simple kiss anyway if they had a chance of making this work, she gave him a regretful goodnight and closed the door behind her as she entered her building, leaving him on the other side of the door.

The date had gone well, and she was feeling optimistic about the possibility of a relationship with the federal marshal. The past was the past, and maybe she could just leave it there. It was a tempting thought, and for the first time as she prepared for bed, she allowed herself to actually contemplate doing so. Could she really move on from her history, and her family history, and embrace a future with a man like Lucas?

No, not a man like him. There was no other man like Lucas. She was convinced of that, and she didn’t think she was allowing her attraction and blooming emotions to color her perceptions, at least not in that regard. For Lucas, she was willing to do something she’d never done before, and that was extend a measure of trust to someone who could hurt her deeply. She hadn’t been capable of that since she was a little girl, but maybe with him, things would be different.

Their next date was more casual, but also more intimate. She went to his house for dinner and a movie, curling up on the sofa with him and Angel while they ate Chinese food from a box and watched Netflix. When the baby woke and fussed, she held her while he went to get her bottle, and a wave of longing swept over her.

She was only twenty-eight, and she hadn’t felt the clamoring of her biological urges yet to have a child of her own, but holding Angel sent a wave of maternal feelings through her. When Lucas returned with the bottle, Libby took it from him instead of giving him the baby. As the little girl drank, she stroked her thick black hair and looked up at Lucas. “Her poor mother, not getting these moments with her.”

His expression clouded, and he looked grim. He didn’t speak, but he did nod abruptly. It was clearly a difficult topic of conversation, and he didn’t seem to encourage her to ask questions.

She still couldn’t help asking, “Have you gotten the man who did this to Astoria?”

His expression turned grimmer, and there was a hint of anger too. “No, I haven’t, but I’ve been rattling his cages pretty hard. I’m trying to turn up anything that will bring him down, or dig up another witness somewhere. It was a miracle when Astoria came to us to testify against him after she saw him murder someone. I don’t know if we’ll be that lucky again, since most people are too afraid or too involved with Deacon Hunt’s criminal empire to want to see him brought down, at least at their own personal risk.”

“Deacon Hunt was Angel’s father, wasn’t he?” She thought she remembered that correctly, and if so, it just horrified her that he could order Astoria’s death, especially when she was in labor with his own child.

Lucas nodded. “From what I can gather, Deacon Hunt probably figured it didn’t matter if had to kill the baby if it helped him remove a witness. Or maybe he never gave it a thought at all. That sounds like Hunt.”

He was quickly brooding and slipping into anger, so she leaned against him, sighing when he put his arm around her. It felt nice to have him hold her as she held Angel. Since Lucas was such a large guy, with rippling muscles, he made her feel safe and protected, and even petite. Since she was tall and curvy, that was an unusual feeling. She savored it as she laid against him, trying to watch the movie as she focused most of her attention on the infant in her arms and Lucas’s arm around her.

She laid her head against his chest, finding the soothing beat of his heart made her eyes droop. He seemed to have a more rapid heart rate than she was expecting, and she could only hope that meant her presence excited him. If she hadn’t been so domestic and content at the moment, it would have excited her too.

Oh, who is she kidding? Being this close to him certainly accelerated her own heartrate and made it more difficult to breathe. The maternal feelings sweeping through her did nothing to dampen the feminine hunger she felt for the man beside her. It was strange to feel both emotions, separate and distinct, but both intense. It was clearly the wrong time to act on her attraction, so she tried to stifle how it made her feel and instead focus on relaxing and being content as she held the baby. It seemed to work, because she was aware of her eyes getting heavy, but didn’t know when she eventually fell asleep.

**
*

She woke in his bed, plastered against his chest, and embarrassed to realize she was drooling slightly. She lifted her head and wiped her mouth before wiping away a spot of drool on his pec. When she dared to glance up at him, she found his eyes open, and his amusement obvious. She almost apologized for drooling, but the situation abruptly crystallized. She frowned instead. “Why am I in your bed?”

“You were pretty asleep. I did try to wake you up to find out if you wanted to go back to your house, but you didn’t even stir. So I brought you to bed with me. Are you upset?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t upset at all. The only upsetting thing was how much she liked it, and how much she wanted to melt against him again, savoring the warmth of his skin against the places where her shirt didn’t cover. Even more, she wanted to take off her clothes and feel all their skin pressed together, but it was too soon for that. Wasn’t it?

With seemingly no effort at all, he lifted her higher up the bed, bringing her mouth to his for a long morning kiss. She was surprised and more than a little disappointed when he released her after that, making no attempt to further his advances. He was practically being a perfect gentleman. Dammit.

Before she could decide if she wanted to escalate things herself, she heard the baby stirring, and he got out of bed before they could do anything else. He moved quickly, and she admired how organized he was, slipping from the bedroom and returning with a bottle a few minutes later, just as Angel woke completely, letting out a small squawk. She didn’t erupt into a full cry as Lucas lifted her into his arms and inserted the bottle smoothly, making it look easy. “You do that really well. It’s like you’ve been a father forever.”

His ears took on a pink tinge, and he seemed a little embarrassed by the praise. “It doesn’t feel that way to me. I still feel awkward and clumsy, and like I’m not sure what she wants half the time. Look at the colic incident the other night.”

She shrugged. “There are challenges, but you seem to have been born to be a father.”

His expression was tinged with sadness. “I certainly never expected it to be under these circumstances. If I hadn’t failed Astoria, she’d be raising her child now.”

She slid from the bed and padded over to him, putting her arm around his waist and hugging his bicep with the side of her face, since his arms were busy with the baby. “You didn’t fail her. From what you’ve told me, you were ambushed. I’m sure you did the best you could. You stayed with her while your partner tried to find the sniper, and obviously, you had gotten close to Astoria during the time you guarded her. She saw something special in you, something that made her know her child was safe with you. I can see it too.”

His ears were definitely red now, and he seemed torn between embarrassment and pleasure as he looked at her before his gaze darted away. She seemed to have rendered him speechless for a moment, and she laughed softly. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll be fine.”

“I can’t do it alone though. I don’t want to do it alone. I’d like you beside me.”

Her heart accelerated, and it was a combination of panic and anticipation. She forced herself to remain standing beside him instead of tearing from the room in a panic. “Let’s just take it a day at a time for now. I’m here, and I don’t want to be anywhere else right now.” That was the most she could commit to with her remaining doubts, and his lack of knowledge about her past. Part of her wanted to eagerly embrace a future with him, to say to heck with the consequences and just go with the flow, but she was too pragmatic to do so. It was going to take a strong foundation to weather the truth of her past, and they needed to build that a brick at a time.

***

It was easy to settle into a routine with Lucas and Angel, and Libby was soon spending most of her free time with them. After closing the shop, she would go to their house for the evening, usually for dinner and sometimes a movie, before returning to her own home by ten p.m. She’d stayed over a few nights with him, but usually when Angel was having a rough night, and he needed some extra help. They hadn’t slept together yet, but she was certain they would in the near future, as long as she could stop worrying about everything so much that it shut down her ability to move forward, as had happened the last couple of times they’d been involved in a heavy make out session.

She was feeling content and optimistic when she checked her mail that morning before opening the shop for the day. She sorted through it as she walked back into the main area, pausing to flip the open sign before moving behind the register. There were a variety of items, some for the business and some personal ones for her. She sorted them into two piles, but froze when she saw the return address on a crisp white envelope. Her stomach curled with dread when she read California Department of Corrections.

Hand trembling, Libby used the letter opener to slice the envelope and pull out a thick stack of papers. She scanned them briefly, grimacing when she realized it was a notice that her mother was coming up for parole. Her heart stuttered, and nausea churned in her gut when she reached the last page and found a handwritten letter from her mother attached to the stack. She scanned it briefly, snorting out loud when she reached the point where her mother was asking her to appear at the parole hearing as a character witness, hoping it would help sway the parole board to grant her early release.

“As if,” she muttered as she crumpled up the letter and tossed it in the trash can. She had no intention of helping her mother get out of prison early. Sylvia was somewhere she couldn’t cause trouble for anyone, especially Libby, and that was an ideal situation. She could only hope the parole board wouldn’t be swayed by her mother’s manipulative efforts and end up freeing her. Sylvia could sweet talk a penguin into buying ice cubes, but surely the people who sat on the parole board and made the decisions would be able to see through her. She hoped.

Either way, it wasn’t her problem. If her mother showed up here at the shop, she’d simply send her packing and make it clear she wanted nothing to do with her. She’d had enough trouble from that woman in her life, and now things were settled and calm, and she didn’t want Sylvia stirring up trouble.

Her heart skipped a beat as she imagined Lucas meeting Sylvia. She was certain he would see right through her mother’s glossy charm to the cold snake underneath, but then he would know just what kind of family she had, and it would probably change his perception of her. How could it not when he found out her family was practically a Who’s Who of Cellblock A?

By the end of the day, Sylvia had faded to the back of her mind, and she was determined not to overthink it or stress about the situation unless or until she found out there was a reason to do so. Her mother had already been denied parole twice before, so it was unlikely she’d achieve success this time, and if she didn’t get released, then Libby could go back to pretending like her mother didn’t exist. That was the way she liked it.

After closing the shop, she made her way to Lucas’s house, carrying a casserole she had made earlier. It simply needed to be reheated, and she was looking forward to a night of relaxation, eager to forget all about the stressful news she’d received that morning. As she walked up the steps to his house, she froze when a smartly dressed blonde woman stepped out of the door, turning as she did so to flash Lucas a smile when he stepped out behind her. She stumbled to a stop and stared for a moment at the petite, slender woman currently eyeing Lucas like he was a piece of meat. She didn’t know whether to turn around and leave or keep walking forward, so she froze.

Lucas turned his gaze on her at that moment, and the heat in his eyes quelled any concern she felt about the blonde’s presence. It was obvious that whoever she was, she wanted Lucas, but he clearly didn’t want her. He seemed to have eyes only for Libby. It injected a new lightness in her step, and she finished crossing the porch to stand beside him. When he put his arm around her waist, she relaxed against him, both because it felt natural, and because it made the blonde’s eyes narrow further. She gave her sweet smile. “Hello.”

The blonde inclined her head stiffly. “Who is this, Lucas?”

“This is my girlfriend, Libby.”

Libby and the blonde both stiffened simultaneously, but probably for different reasons. For her, it was hearing the label attached and verbally spoken that was startling. She hadn’t yet reached the stage where she could refer to him as her boyfriend. To hear him so casually identify her as his partner was terrifying and heartwarming at the same time.

In the blonde’s case, it was clearly unwelcome news that Lucas had a girlfriend. Her eyes narrowed even further, and she was practically squinting.

Lucas continued on, clearly unaware of the reaction of either woman. Bless him for being a man, she thought to herself with a small giggle.

“Libby, this is Marla Vickers. She’s the caseworker who’s overseeing the adoption petition, and she’s the one who granted me permission to be Angel’s foster parent until the adoption is final.”

Dread filled her, but she couldn’t explain why until the blonde spoke.

“Yes, and as part of my job, I have to investigate anyone who is a constant presence in Angel’s life. Let me get your phone number, and we’ll set up a time for an interview.” Her malicious gaze made it clear she was going to enjoy probing into every detail of Libby’s life, and she clearly enjoyed the idea of holding final say over whether or not Lucas could adopt the baby he loved so much.

Her stomach felt like it fell to her feet as she mumbled her phone number. She was certain to fail Marla’s background check, even if the other woman hadn’t been out to get her, and the reality of the situation suddenly crashed in on her. As much as she loved the baby, and could certainly see herself loving Lucas, she couldn’t remain involved with them.

She’d never forgive herself, and he wouldn’t forgive her either if her past cost him the ability to adopt Angel. Feeling sick, she followed him into the house a few minutes later, putting the casserole dish on the stove and turning it on to preheat. “You just need to bake it for forty-five minutes once the preheating period is over. I’m going to go home. I don’t feel well all of a sudden.”