Michelle Major - Fortune's Special Delivery

“You certainly didn’t say you did,” Alice countered.

Charles nodded, willing to acknowledge that, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “I’ll admit this is quite a shock. I don’t know you well, Alice, but I’d gather a one-night stand with a stranger isn’t the way you planned to bring a child into the world.”

She let out a small, tired laugh. “Nothing about this was part of my plan, but he’s here now. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Does he have a name?”

Alice smiled. “Flynn. His name is Flynn Davis Meyers.”

“A strong name,” Charles told her. “I like it. Although I suppose it will be Flynn Davis Fortune Chesterfield now.” He closed his eyes for a moment, leaned his head back and tried to gather his roiling thoughts. “I almost understand why you didn’t tell me at first, but after he was born...”

“I’m sorry, Charles. Really, I am.” She placed a hand on his arm. The touch was light, but it reverberated through him. “I had a lot of resistance at first from my friends and family. Not only could no one believe I’d gotten pregnant, but they also didn’t think I could handle a baby on my own. Not my coworkers, friends or even my parents.” Flynn fidgeted in her arms and she drew her hand away from Charles to snuggle the baby closer, his eyes drifting shut again. “But I knew being a mother would change everything for me.”

She gazed at Flynn, her eyes full of so much affection that Charles instinctively leaned closer, wanting to be a part of that kind of love.

“It did change me,” she said. “It made me better and stronger, but I got used to being on my own. I started relying on myself and it felt like that was my only option. Until...”

“Until what?” Charles asked, so close now he could smell the vanilla scent of her shampoo.

“It’s silly, but I was getting a haircut last month and saw a picture of you in an old tabloid magazine.”

Charles grimaced. “Whatever the article said, I highly doubt it was true.”

She laughed, and Charles watched as Flynn’s eyes snapped open, focusing on her face. The boy seemed as fascinated by Alice as Charles felt. How did a baby form that bond so quickly? Did Charles have it in him to be any sort of father to this child?

“It was a photo of you holding your niece, Clementine. The magazine was from last year, so she was around Flynn’s age in the picture. You looked so...” Alice searched his face, offered him another hopeful smile.

“Terrified out of my mind,” he suggested.

“Natural,” she corrected. “You looked natural holding the baby—like it made you happy.”

“Little Clementine is a fine baby.”

She shrugged. “It made me realize it wasn’t fair to keep Flynn from you. Again, I’m sorry. For the shock and for not telling you earlier. Like I said, I don’t expect anything from you.”

He knew she meant the words as comfort, but they were like salt in an open wound. No one had ever expected anything from Charles. Nothing beyond a laugh, a free pint and a good time. For a long time, he’d liked it that way. But now...this was different.

“Would you like to hold him?” Alice asked gently.

He almost said no. Flynn wasn’t a niece or nephew he could bounce on his knee, then hand back to a doting parent. He was the parent. Alice might think he looked like a natural, but he certainly didn’t feel like one. Still, when she shifted toward him, Charles reached for the baby.

“Relax,” Alice coached him. “You’re doing fine.”

Forcing his muscles to loosen, Charles held the baby close to his chest, cradled in the crook of his arm. Flynn yawned, stretched and blinked. His blue gaze, so familiar, yet all his own, met Charles’s. At that moment, Charles felt his world rumble and shift. It wasn’t like a lightning bolt or clap of thunder. But the energy inside him changed. Here was the meaning he’d been craving in his life, all wrapped up in one tiny, powder-scented package. He was holding his son in his arms.

He wrapped his arms tighter around the baby and placed a gentle kiss on Flynn’s forehead.

* * *

Alice gasped when Charles kissed Flynn, her whole world suddenly spinning out of control.

Charles glanced up at her. “Did I do something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, of course not. I just didn’t think you’d to take to him so quickly. I thought...” She trailed off, knowing that everything she’d expected about Charles’s reaction to finding out he had a son was insulting and, apparently, off the mark.

Obligation and a niggling sense of guilt had prompted her to call him when she’d found out he was visiting his family in Texas. But she hadn’t realized what had stopped her from contacting him before that. It wasn’t as much how he would respond to the knowledge of being a father, but Alice’s reaction to Charles.

They’d spent only one night together, but she’d felt the overwhelming charge of attraction and longing as soon as she looked up and saw him standing in front of her today. He was just as handsome, looking almost formal and wholly British in his slim trousers, expensive loafers and dark, fitted shirt.

The temperature was beginning to rise as the sun drew higher in the sky, and Alice could feel a bead of sweat roll between her shoulder blades. Charles, on the other hand, looked as dashing and sophisticated as if he were ready to meet a foreign dignitary. He smelled delicious, expensive and spicy. The scent made her want to lean in closer to him and beg him to press his mouth to hers.

She was such a fool.

Charles likely hadn’t given her a moment’s thought in the past year, and she’d struggled to keep him out of her mind and, more annoyingly, her dreams. But Charles in the flesh was far more powerful than her fantasy version. To see him show such easy affection with her son—with their son—made Alice almost melt on the spot.

Unfortunately, it also made the future far more complicated, and she liked her simple life with Flynn.

“My father was a wonderful man,” Charles told her, his gaze back on the baby. “The most honorable, good-hearted, kind person I’ve ever known. I couldn’t ever hope to compare to him, but I want to follow his example. I’m going to do the right thing by Flynn, Alice. I promise you that much.”

She nodded dumbly, unable to speak around the emotion rising thick and hot in her throat. Automatically, she reached for the baby, needing the weight of Flynn in her arms to settle her. Charles handed him to her, their fingers brushing as he did. She felt the touch all the way to her toes, her skin tingling with awareness. Needing to gain control of herself, Alice stood and gently placed Flynn back into his stroller. She strapped him into the infant seat and turned to Charles. “I should go,” she said, “Thank you for meeting me and for being so good about all of this. I really don’t—”

“Expect a call from me tomorrow,” Charles interrupted, also standing. He slid the sunshade over Flynn and took a step toward Alice before stopping. “I have some plans to put into motion, papers to draw up.” His fingers rested on the stroller handle as hers had earlier. His touch was confident, proprietary, and despite his devil-may-care attitude about life, Alice knew from Charles’s work with the tourism council that he was smart and cunning, with powerful connections on both sides of the Atlantic. Once he decided there was something he wanted, little could stop him from having it.

“If you change your mind, I understand,” Alice said quickly, no longer sure what she wanted from her son’s father. Afraid of both what he made her feel and the way he could change her life.

“I won’t.” He leaned forward, kissed her cheek in much the same way he’d kissed Flynn’s forehead. The brush of his lips was gentle, sweet and utterly irresistible. Cue the melting once again. Great. Just when Alice needed to keep her wits about her, one innocent touch could turn her to mush. “Thank you, Alice,” he said as he straightened. “For calling me. This morning has changed everything.”