Lisa Jordan - Lakeside Family

“But we had broken up.” He took a step toward her. “What did you expect?”

Josie held up a hand, and he stopped. “I expected you to be responsible.”

He held up his hands, palms to the ceiling. “Responsible for what? I’m so lost a GPS couldn’t bring me back to the starting point.”

She dropped onto the couch in front of the fireplace and massaged her forehead. “I needed you.”

Nick rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Just tell me what you’re talking about.”

“Two years ago, my daughter, Hannah, was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia.”

Nick sat on the matching chair across from her. “I’m so sorry.”

“She went into remission, but the leukemia has come back. Now her doctor is recommending a bone marrow transplant. I’ve been tested, but I’m not a match. Testing her other parent is the most logical choice right now.”

He shot her a puzzled look. “What does that have to do with me?”

Josie jumped to her feet and planted her fists on her hips. “Are you seriously this clueless, Professor? Choosing not to be a part of your daughter’s life doesn’t disqualify you from being her father.”

Chapter Two

“Her what?” His words tripped their way up his throat. His heart hammered against his rib cage. “Did you just say I’m a...father?”

She had to be joking. One look at her crossed arms and jutted chin showed she told the truth. He stood and moved away from her, needing a little distance. Grabbing on to the mantel, he stared at the black pit where logs lay cold. Fake. Not real. Imitation. Just like him.

“My daughter is nine years old, Nick. She’ll be ten in April. You’re the one with the fancy degrees. Figure it out.”

This could not be happening. There had to be some mistake. Wouldn’t he have known? Or at least been told? He faced her again. “How do you know she’s mine?”

“Because you’re the only person I’ve been with. That night after my nonna’s funeral when we...” She looked away, her words trailing off. A strand of hair slipped out of her clip and curled against her cheek.

A tucked away memory filtered through his head. After her grandmother’s funeral, he had taken her for a drive down by the lake. He held her while she cried and kissed away her tears. He had known better, but in the heat of the moment, common sense fell away as quickly as their clothes. Regret coated his throat.

And now they had a child.

Pink tinged her cheeks. “I got pregnant. Hannah is your daughter, too.”

“So you decided to wait until you needed something to tell me?”

Her head snapped up, her brown eyes the size of teacups. “Excuse me? Don’t you dare act like this is news.”

“How am I supposed to act? I’m hearing about this child for the first time.” His words, laced with self-loathing, burned his tongue.

She jumped to her feet, nearly tripping over the coffee table, and poked him in the chest. “I called your mother and begged for your address, but she said it was best that I didn’t hold you back.”

A chill washed over him. He grabbed her wrist. “Wait a second. My mom knew you were pregnant?”

She pulled her hand free and backed away from him. “Of course she did. When she refused to give me your address, she said she’d relay the message and let you decide. Actions really do speak louder than words, don’t they?”

“She never told me.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. Mom, what have you done?

“Yeah, right.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t wait to leave Ridgefield for your big shot college and put everything behind you, including me. Now you’re blaming your mom for your lack of decency. I expected more from you, Nick. Funny how expectations end up being disappointments, too.”

Nick fisted his hands to keep from shaking her. Did she seriously think he’d have walked out on her if he had known? Especially what she knew about his childhood? “I swear I didn’t know.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth.”

Josie’s shoulders sagged. She dropped on the couch, cradling her head in her hands. “Why wouldn’t she tell you?”

Nick sighed and jammed his hands in his pockets. “I have no idea.”

She pointed to the cordless phone on the counter. “Give her a call now and ask.”

“I can’t.” Guilt gripped his vocal cords and twisted. He massaged his throat. Eight years. Still not long enough to forgive himself for destroying his family. “She’s dead.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry. What happened? Wait. That’s none of my business.”

“Car accident.” He didn’t mention he was the one driving. He pushed ghosts of that night out of his thoughts and focused on the petite Italian beauty in front of him.

“So it’s you and your brother now? Ross, right? How’s he?”

“Yes, Ross. He’s...fine.” And he was. For the most part. He couldn’t tell her about Ross. Not yet.

“I—I thought you knew about Hannah. I’m sorry this is such a shock.” She reached up and touched his arm. “But she’s your daughter, and she needs your help, Nick.”

The pleading in her eyes cut him to the core. In the past ten minutes, his world had been turned upside down. He needed a minute to collect his thoughts.

Turning away, he swept his gaze over a rough-hewn bookcase decorated with ivy and tiny white lights. A stack of books lay on their sides next to a trio of chunky candlesticks in the corner. Cans of tea for sale lined the middle shelf. One of the labels on the tea can boasted an unforgettable experience. He didn’t need to drink tea to have that. It had been handed to him the moment he walked through the door.

He remembered another door, a lifetime ago. The one his father walked out of when Nick was in first grade, leaving him with a sobbing mother and a screaming baby brother. Seeing his father throw that duffel bag in the back of the rusted pickup and barrel down the street had Nick racing after him, screaming his name and crying. He hadn’t seen his dad since. He promised his mother and brother he’d never abandon his family.

But he had done just that to his daughter. He was no better than his father. A pain knifed his gut, threatening to drag the breath right out of him. He pressed a fist against his sternum.

“And then what, Josie?” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

“What do you mean?” She sounded halfway across the room.

He turned and stared, drinking in the dark, loose curls escaping her clip and framing her face, the way her blue shirt and brown pants clung to her soft curves. With the dimmed overhead lighting casting shadows on her, she appeared no more than seventeen. The same age as when he got her pregnant. “What happens after I get tested?”

“Well, we wait to see if you’re a match.” She tugged on the hem of her shirt.

He took a step toward her. “No, I mean with Hannah and me. With you and me.”

Her eyes flashed. “There is no you and me. You burned that bridge a long time ago.”

He’d thought it was the best thing for them. Even after he started his freshman year, he’d thought of her often, had been so tempted to pick up the phone just to hear her voice, but he resisted. He’d had no right to lead her on.

Maybe that was why she hadn’t tried a little harder to contact him. He glanced at her hand. No wedding ring. That didn’t mean she wasn’t in a relationship now. “There will always be a you and me. Now that I know about Hannah, I want to be a part of her life.”

She shot him a “you’ve got to be kidding” look. “You don’t even know her.”

“Not by choice. Now that I have a chance, I’m not going to walk away.” He was not going to be his father. He had to prove to Josie—somehow, some way—that he was in this for the long haul.