Who's Your Daddy? (30 page)

Ever since the afternoon in Carmen’s office, I’d been hell-bent on making sure Donovan had absolutely no reason to doubt the way I felt about him. That way, when the truth finally came out, maybe he’d understand.

But the next morning, we’d avoided even the most mundane conversation while we drank our coffee, and I was sure he knew something. I couldn’t decide if he was waiting for a confession, or steeling himself to make the accusation, and for the first time, I was more than a little relieved when he kissed me good-bye and left for work.

He’d been insatiable that night. Desperate for me to fuck him until he couldn’t move. And I’d given him everything I had and then some because I was desperate to make sure there was absolutely no mistaking how much I wanted
him
, how much I loved
him
, how devoted I was to
him
.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. How exactly had I let myself get into this mess?

And how the fuck did I get myself—
us
—out of it?

I’d talk to Donovan. Tonight. As soon as possible. Maybe if he called today, or while we ate dinner this evening. But it needed to be addressed.

I got my opportunity when, about fifteen minutes after my one o’clock appointment left, Donovan called. From the moment I heard his voice on the line, my heart beat too fast and my hands shook. As we made some unusually stilted small talk, I cradled the phone on my shoulder and found every possible idle task I could to keep my hands occupied. At least then I could pretend they were steady.

I flipped a pen over and over between my thumb and forefinger. I mangled the hell out of a couple of paperclips. I searched a couple of drawers for a paperweight I hadn’t seen for a while and really didn’t give a shit about.

And still I couldn’t bring myself to address the subject that had had me lying awake the last couple of nights while he was on duty.

Then Donovan got down to business, but the conversation didn’t go the direction I anticipated. “Listen, I just got off the phone with Julia.”

Ryan’s mother’s name almost invariably made me groan with frustration, but I bit it back. She was the least of my worries right now anyway, but obviously something about their conversation remained on his mind. “So, what did she have to say?”

“A lot of four-letter words, as usual,” he muttered. “Apparently Ryan’s been complaining about the new baby.”

“That’s to be expected,” I said. “It’s going to be an adjustment for him.”

“I know, but…” Donovan hesitated. “The thing is, our situation is out of the ordinary anyway, and it sounds like Ryan’s still really upset about it.” He paused, then bitterly added, “Not that Julia gives a shit. She just wants him to shut up about it.”

I sat back in my chair, tapping my fingers on the armrest. “Sounds like her. So, what do you want to do?”

Donovan took a deep breath. “I’m not sure. I…really don’t know how to address this.”

“Well, you’ve mentioned that Julia didn’t talk to Ryan much when she was pregnant the last two times,” I said. “And he’s told me he felt elbowed out of the picture when his siblings were born. Maybe we need to find a way to make him feel more included.”

“Any suggestions? I’m not sure he wants to be part of this.”

“He might want to be part of it more than you think he does,” I said. “If there’s one thing he’s complained to me about, it’s the lack of communication between you two. Maybe he sees this as another wedge between you.”

I could almost hear Donovan wincing. He cleared his throat. “Do you think we should involve Carmen? When we talk to him?”

“That might not be a bad idea. It’ll still be an adjustment for him, but maybe if we can start addressing everything as a family unit—including Carmen—it’ll make the transition smoother.”

His voice dropped to a low growl. “Do you know how much it turns me on when you start on the counselor-speak?”

I snorted. “Dork.”

He laughed. “Okay, okay, you’re probably right. Why don’t I give Carmen a call? Ryan’s off work tonight, so he’ll be home.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you when I get home.”

“All right. I love you.”

“I love you too.” After I’d hung up, I stared at the silent phone. Settle things with Ryan. Ease him into accepting Carmen as more than just a family friend. And at some point, maybe Donovan and I could find time to sit down and sort ourselves out.

Eventually.

Ryan wasn’t home yet, but Carmen was here.

The three of us stood in the kitchen, and none of us spoke. I resisted the urge to grab a bottle of wine off the rack; if Carmen couldn’t drink, then it was only fair Donovan and I didn’t either.

For the first time in my relationship with Donovan and all the years we’d been friends with Carmen, I didn’t know how to break the ice. There was too much that needed to be addressed for us to hide behind friendly, playful conversation or flirting, because that would only remind us of how we got into this situation in the first place. And if we decided to just dive headlong into all those difficult topics, I was liable to say to hell with it and blurt out the fact that I was in love with her. I made my living helping people communicate, but right about now, I felt like a master chef who went home and burned macaroni and cheese. Like the minute I stepped into my own home, I forgot all my training and had no idea what to do.

Then, merciful distraction.

The back door opened, and Ryan walked in. A few steps into the kitchen, he halted, eyeing us. “What?”

Donovan coughed into his fist. “We want to talk to you.”

“About?” Ryan’s eyes darted toward Carmen, and his posture stiffened. “I have homework to do.” He brushed past his father and stomped down the stairs.

Donovan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck…”

Carmen touched his arm and looked at me, eyebrows up as if to say
what now?

I chewed my lip. “Whether he wants to or not, we need to have this conversation. The longer we wait, the more he’s just going to stew over it and get angrier about the whole situation.”

“I know.” Donovan looked toward the stairs leading down to Ryan’s room. He gulped. “I’ll go get him.”

“We’ll wait for you in the family room.” I gestured for Carmen to follow me. In the family room, we sat on the couch, and I pretended it wasn’t the couch on which things had gotten started with her the first and second times.

Neither of us spoke. We didn’t even look at each other. Guilt ate at me, reminding me of all the things Donovan and I needed to discuss. I hadn’t seen Carmen since that afternoon in my office, and sitting with her now, I wondered if she’d picked up on anything. If she knew.

I glanced at her, and she met my eyes. A faint smile worked its way onto her lips, but then she looked away. Nerves about the conversation we were about to have? Something else?

Footsteps—two sets of them—came up the stairs, and my heart pounded. Then Ryan appeared in the doorway, flanked by his father.

Donovan put a hand on his son’s arm. “Why don’t we all sit so we can talk?”

Ryan glared at each of us in turn, stopping with Donovan. “Why do I need to be here? I thought you wanted my homework done.”

“I do,” Donovan said quietly. “But this is important. It won’t take long, all right?”

“Fine.” Sneering, Ryan dropped onto the armchair, and Donovan joined us on the couch. With a coffee table and some space between us and him, Ryan drummed his fingers and waited.

Donovan steepled his fingers under his chin. “We wanted to talk to you about the…situation.” He cleared his throat. “With the new baby.”

Ryan set his jaw. “What is there to discuss? You two are fucking hypocrites. You knocked up—”

“Ryan,” Donovan snapped. Quickly adopting a less hostile tone, he said, “Can we discuss this civilly? Please?”

His son didn’t speak, but the emphatic tapping of his fingers on the armrest let it be known how unhappy he was to be here.

“This isn’t a comfortable situation for any of us,” I said. “But we’re in it, and so are you.”

“Unfortunately,” he muttered. “And I assume the baby’s going to be living with us.”

I glanced at Carmen. “The baby’s probably going to be staying here at least part of the time. We haven’t ironed all of that out yet.”

“Staying where?” Ryan asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Most likely in our room,” Donovan said.

“We’re not kicking you out of your room or anything like that,” I said, and Ryan relaxed a little.

“What about Carmen?” Ryan’s eyes flicked toward her. “Are you going to be, like, staying here?”

Carmen shifted, glancing at Donovan and me. “We’re still playing things by ear.”

“At least early on,” I said. “She and the baby might stay here.” I looked at Carmen, eyebrows up. “Assuming you’re comfortable with that.”

She shrugged. “I think I’ll need all the help I can get in the beginning.”

“So, what?” Ryan glared at his dad. “Does this mean I get to spend all my time over here babysitting your kid like I get to babysit Mom’s?”

“No,” Donovan said quietly. “If you want to make some extra money, you’re welcome to it, but we’re not going to force you.” He gestured at Carmen and me. “We’re the parents. We’ll take care of the baby. This isn’t your responsibility.”

“Then why am I in here?” Ryan snapped.

“Because we’re
trying
to include you in this.” Donovan’s voice betrayed his waning patience.

“I don’t fucking want to be included—”

“
Ryan
.” Donovan gave his son
the look
.

Ryan just rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Before Donovan could speak, Carmen broke in. “Ryan, we all know this is an adjustment, and it’s stressful for you just like it is for us. Is there anything we can do to make it easier for you?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said coldly. “Leave me out of it.”

Sighing, Donovan rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “You’re part of this family too, son. Whether you like it or not, that means you’re part of this situation.”

“And we’re trying to make it as smooth as we can for you,” I said.

Ryan sniffed. “Smooth? How about just leaving me the fuck out of it? This is your mess, not mine.”

Donovan glared at him. “You’re still part of the family.”

“Guess it’s true what they say,” his son snarled. “You
can’t
pick your family.”

Fury darkened Donovan’s expression, but Carmen once again beat him to the punch.

“Ryan, honey, this isn’t easy for any of us,” she said, her voice soft. “Believe me, it’s pretty much knocked my entire life on its ass.”

Ryan shifted in his seat, but some of the hostility in his expression eased.

Carmen went on. “No one’s asking you to pretend this is all hunky-dory, or that we planned this. We’re not expecting you to be thrilled about it. We’re just trying to do the best we can with the cards we’ve been dealt.” She gestured at Donovan and me. “Your dad and stepdad don’t want you to have to shoulder this like it’s your responsibility. It’s not. It’s ours. All we’re asking is for you to help us help you accept the changes that are, whether any of us like it or not, going to happen in the next few months.”

I nodded. “You don’t have to accept it all overnight, Ryan. It’s taken some time for all of us, so we know it will for you too.”

“And if anything in particular is bothering you,” Donovan said, “you can talk to us. Any of us.”

At the sound of his father’s voice, Ryan’s hackles went back up. He looked at Donovan with narrowed eyes. “What about college? Do I have to stay in-state now or do some community college bullshit?”

Donovan swallowed. “No. If you really want to go out of state, we’ll find a way to make it work.” His eyes darted toward me, and I nodded. He went on, “It might mean looking into more financial aid, but we’ll make it happen.

Some of the tension left Ryan’s tightly clenched jaw, but otherwise he maintained his rigid, hostile front. “What about a car?”

“Yes, we’ll be able to get you the car,” he said. “How much money do you have saved up?”

“Still need a couple hundred more.”

Donovan nodded. “Okay. Let me know when you have enough, and we’ll start looking.”

Ryan nodded slowly. The ice in his tone had noticeably thawed, but there was still plenty left when he said, “Can I go now?”

Donovan nodded. Without another word, Ryan stood and left the family room. His footsteps thudded across the kitchen, and it was only when Ryan started down the stairs that Donovan finally released his breath.

I put my hand on his knee. “It’s progress.”

Donovan closed his eyes and rubbed his temples but said nothing. Carmen and I looked at each other, and she grimaced sympathetically at him. She rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, but he didn’t respond to either of us.

I’d hoped to discuss our issues tonight—or rather, my issue—but it needed to wait. He had enough on his shoulders tonight.

Eventually
, I promised myself.
Eventually, we will sort this out.