Who's Your Daddy? (32 page)

So what if this baby was mine? Could I really ask Isaac to deal with the sleep deprivation and stress of an infant, with the promise of going through all the teenage years once again?

One of us would be legally bound to this baby. One of us would be free to walk away if he so chose. I had no intention of leaving regardless of the DNA results, but could I begrudge him if he chose to? If he needed to? We both intended to stay together, for better or worse, but the reality was that we were both human. What if he couldn’t handle being a stepparent all over again, just like I wasn’t sure I could ask him to do so?

Carmen and I could manage if it was just the two of us. I’d been a single parent; I could raise this baby with her. It was the thought of losing Isaac—as a co-parent, as a lover, as the only one who’d ever made me think seriously about marriage—that scared me.

I cleared my throat. “You know, I could go for a drink.”

“Me too.”

We both turned and damn near sprinted out of the baby’s room.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Isaac

Donovan didn’t speak as he poured us each a glass of wine. I didn’t say anything either, just surreptitiously watched him whenever he wasn’t looking my way.

I’d been on edge ever since the day Carmen and I had sex in my office. That afternoon had revealed some uncomfortable truths, and those truths wouldn’t be ignored. Nor would my conscience.

And now this.

We’d just spent a few hours etching reality into our home. With every square inch covered in pale yellow paint, with every fastener I’d convinced to go into place on that damned crib, this was more real. And the less I could ignore the implications of that room, the less I could ignore the knot that had twisted quietly behind my ribs since the night Carmen had told us she was pregnant.

What if the baby was mine? Donovan had already spent the last decade and a half raising a kid. Though we’d talked about adopting or something, we hadn’t settled on it either way. He’d been extra stressed over Ryan for the last year or so, so I’d let the subject drop for the time being. It wasn’t that I wanted to wait, per se. I was forty, for God’s sake; I could only put this off for so long before I ended up with a kindergartener at age sixty. But I didn’t want to push it with him, not when he already lost sleep over Ryan.

What if he decided he didn’t want to stick around and raise someone else’s kid? He was already stretched thin and exhausted from the difficulties of a teenager. Whether the baby was biologically mine or not, I didn’t care. And I didn’t doubt Donovan’s devotion to our relationship or to his child, but he was human. Human and run ragged from butting heads with his son.

He’d been looking forward to enjoying some of the adult freedom he’d missed in his twenties, and now this? Whether because of my feelings for Carmen, or the pressure on him of raising someone else’s baby, this worried me. If there was anything about this situation that truly scared me, that terrified me right to the core, it was the thought of losing Donovan.

I stole a few more discreet glances.

His eyes flicked up and met mine, but we both looked away again.
What are you thinking about, Don?
His eyes wouldn’t maintain contact with mine, mine wouldn’t with his. Not long enough to read him, anyway. His body language betrayed nothing except that he had something on his mind. The tension in his shoulders was palpable from here. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he always did when he was nervous. That glass of wine didn’t last long, either.

What’s going through your head right now?

Damn it. We had this nonverbal communication thing down. Always one step ahead of the other, always in synch, always on the same page.
Always
.

Except now. When I needed, more than ever, to read his mind, I couldn’t.

Talk, talk, talk, I told all my clients time and again, but I didn’t now because I was afraid of the answers.

Donovan set his glass down. He looked at the bottle, probably considering a refill, but then his eyes darted toward me. By the time my nerves reminded me I couldn’t quite look him in the eye, we’d already locked eyes for several long seconds.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

You
. “Just…thinking.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “About?”

My mouth went dry. Fuck, where were the words?
I don’t want to lose you, Don
.

“Isaac?” He came around the kitchen island and reached for my face. “Something wrong?”

His touch made me shiver, and I drew in a long breath. “I’m worried about the…” I moistened my lips. “About the paternity test.”

Donovan swallowed. “Are you worried the baby’s yours, or mine?”

“Either way, to be honest with you,” I said. “Obvious worries and all of that, but…” There was no way to beat around the bush. No point in it. Might as well just out and say it. Avoiding his eyes, I went on. “If the baby’s mine, there’s nothing to keep you here.”

He put a hand on my arm. “What are you talking about? Isaac, I’m not going anywhere.” His hand moved to my face, and he raised my chin. “Do you really think I could walk away from you?”

“Maybe it’s not rational,” I said. “I’m just, I’m afraid…after everything you’ve been through with Ryan…”

He looked away, and my heart sank. I wasn’t sure if I’d hurt him, or if I’d gotten closer to the truth than I wanted to. Either way, his flinch stung.

“I’m sorry, Don,” I whispered. “I’m not trying to suggest you’d run, but—”

“I understand what you’re saying,” he said softly. “To be honest, I had the same concern. About you.”

“What do you mean?”

He bit his lip and looked at our hands. “If the baby turns out to be mine…” He paused, eyes losing focus. Finally, he looked at me. “You’ve already been more of a dad to Ryan than I ever could have asked you to be. Sometimes I think you’re more of a dad than I’ve been. Can I really ask you to play that role for another kid?”

My chest ached just listening to him. “Don, it hasn’t been easy trying to be a stepdad, but I wouldn’t trade the last few years with you and Ryan for the world. I love you, I love him, and if this baby is yours, you’re just going to have to accept that I’ll love him or her too.”

He laughed quietly. “And you think you’re going to get rid of me just because your name might come up on that piece of paper?” He brushed his thumb along my jaw. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

I offered a playful grin. “Even if the kid ends up with my stubborn streak?”

“I’d say that’s karma on my part for making you deal with my stubborn streak
and
my kid’s.”

“You two aren’t as bad as you think,” I said. “And besides, I like a challenge.” I rested my hand on the side of his neck. “I’m not going to walk away from you. I don’t care about DNA or what’s on paper. We wanted a baby together, and now we’ve got it.”

“Except it’s a little more complicated than that,” he said. “It’s not just the two of us and a baby.”

“I know.”

“And that’s part of what worries me.”

“What do you mean?”

Clasping our hands together, he took a deep breath. “I don’t quite know how to say this,” he whispered. “I swear to God, I don’t want to hurt you, Isaac, but I have to be honest.”

Blood pounded in my ears. I swallowed, giving enough of a nod to say
go on
.

“It’s about Carmen.” He stared at our hands and whispered, “I love her.”

My heart slammed against my rib cage. “What?”

He finally looked me in the eye. “I know things weren’t supposed to be like this, and it doesn’t change the way I feel about you at all. Doesn’t take away from us.” He squeezed my hand, and his voice cracked as he said, “But I love her.” He dropped his gaze. “I don’t mean I love her like a friend. I mean, I’m
in love
with her.”

Relief and renewed apprehension rushed through me, completely cancelling each other out. He felt the same, but…what now?

“So am I,” I whispered.

His spine straightened and he met my eyes. “You…are?”

I nodded. “And it doesn’t change how I feel about you, either.”

“It might change how she feels about us, though,” he said quietly. “If she doesn’t feel the same way, that could get, um…”

“Weird?”

“Yeah. Weird.” He took a breath. “So, what do we do?”

 
“I think that depends on her.”

“Well, before we talk to her, what do you think would be the best solution?”

“Honestly?” I hesitated. “Assuming she feels the same way, why can’t we bring her into our relationship?”

He blinked. “Are you serious?”

I shrugged. “We already have a sexual relationship with her. There’s a baby on the way that we’re both ready and willing to take care of, regardless of DNA. We’re both in love with her. Who’s to say we can’t function as three?”

“Do you think she’d go for that?”

“Maybe. It’s hard to say. To be honest, I’ve been so worried about how I felt and how you might react, I really haven’t thought about how she feels. I’m sure that makes me sound like an ass, but I…” I shook my head. “I guess I just hadn’t gotten that far yet.”

Donovan nodded slowly. “I can understand that. It’s been a lot to get our heads around.”

“That said, if she feels the same way, then maybe we can do…something. Work something out. We’ve been playing by ear and making our rules since the first time we slept with her, and this wouldn’t be any different.”

He laughed. “That’s true. We’ve been sort of making it up as we go along, haven’t we?”

I laughed too. “Yeah, we have.” More serious now, I said, “And regardless of how she feels about us, I still love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered, and leaned in to kiss me gently. “And no matter who the father is, that’s not going to change anything either.”

“No, it won’t,” I said. “I’m just as much a part of this as you are, regardless of whose name is on the birth certificate.”

Donovan pulled me closer. “Thank God, because I can’t do this without you.” He touched my face. “And even if I could, I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to.” I clasped his hand between my own and kissed his fingers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Carmen

When Don and Isaac invited me over a week or so after the night we sat down with Ryan, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. If the three of us were getting together at their place, it was a safe bet we’d wind up in bed. And since those hormones Don had warned about were kicking in with a vengeance—my God, I’d never been so horny in my life—I was definitely looking forward to that part of the evening.

Things were more complicated than that now, though. What I felt for them went much, much deeper than simple lust, and I didn’t know how to explain that to them. Or if I should explain it. Maybe it was better if I just kept it to myself, even if it hurt like hell.

For now, I told myself as I walked from my car to their front porch, I’d play it by ear. Feel them out, see if an opportunity presented itself. Or just keep my damned mouth shut and not create conflict where there didn’t need to be any.

I knocked on the front door, and Isaac greeted me with a kiss on the cheek before letting me in. We both paused in the foyer, and I met his eyes.

My heart pounded. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

Before I could decide whether or not to ask what was on his mind, he cleared his throat and gestured toward the kitchen. “Don’s in there. Do you want something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure.” My mouth was dry, after all. Pity something to drink couldn’t involve something alcoholic.

I followed Isaac into the kitchen, and Don kissed me hello while Isaac dug a few bottles of water out of the refrigerator.

“You know,” Isaac said, handing one of the bottles to me. “We haven’t discussed this kid’s name at all.”

Shit, we have to come up with a name? Next thing, someone’s going to tell me I’m responsible for keeping this kid alive and fed too.

I coughed and unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. “You’re right, we haven’t. Any ideas?” I took a long drink, once again cursing the fact that I couldn’t have just a
tiny
bit of alcohol.

“I think we can safely rule out naming the baby after anyone in my family,” Don muttered.

“And mine,” I said.

“Someone in my family is bound to get butthurt over the kid being named after another family member,” Isaac said. “So, maybe we should just skip that entire idea.”

“Sounds good to me.” I played with the bottle cap on the counter. “While we’re at it, though, what about last names? I mean, I suppose the baby could just have my last name if you guys are okay with that.”

“Sure.” Don shrugged. “That part really doesn’t make a difference to me.”

“Same here,” Isaac said.

“That said, though”—Don grinned—“Isaac and I have been known to discuss the idea of getting married, which raises the question of what to do with our last names.”