The Surprise Holiday Dad (3 page)

* * *

A
BEAM
OF
sunlight lit Reggie’s face as the little guy registered what Patty had said. Adrienne’s chest squeezed. How would he react? Even if things went well today, she dreaded to think how devastated he’d be if, eventually, Wade let him down.

The man had a muscular, self-contained presence that under other circumstances she’d have found attractive. Not today. He’d come where he wasn’t invited and had the nerve to criticize her. Had he waited until Reggie’s actual birthday, she’d have laid the groundwork.

Well, there was no going back after Patty’s blunt declaration. Her friend—who’d married hospital embryologist Alec Denny and become stepmother to seven-year-old Fiona—had a kind heart but rough edges.

Reggie trotted toward them and then stopped in confusion. He blinked at Wade as if the man had stepped out of a TV set. “Is he really my dad?” he asked Adrienne.

“Yes.” How was she going to handle this? Wade’s untimely arrival had forced her hand. “It’s...a birthday surprise.”
Boy, does that sound lame.

“Hi, Reggie,” the man said. “Happy birthday.”

“Uh, hi.” The little boy reached out and patted his father’s arm gingerly, as if Wade were a crouching lion, both fascinating and scary.

“Hugs!” Patty called, cheering them on. It occurred to Adrienne that since she hadn’t told her friend about Wade in advance, Patty must have known him in her former job at the police department.

A smile illuminated Wade’s rugged face. Bending down, he closed his arms around his son. After a moment’s uncertainty, Reggie’s arms encircled his neck. On the sidelines, Harper snapped a picture of the tableau.

“How about going inside so we can talk in private?” Wade said.

Reggie looked up uncertainly. “Is that okay, Aunt Addie?”

Refusing might bring on an awkward dispute. “Just for a minute. I’ll make sure you don’t miss anything important out here.”

With a deep breath, the boy she loved with every fiber of her being took the big man’s hand and went indoors with him. Reg was so small, so powerless.
Don’t let him become a pawn in this guy’s ego trip.

While Peter steered everyone’s attention to a game, Harper joined Adrienne on the patio. “Is he being a complete jerk?”

She wasn’t sure how to respond. The man was tearing her world apart, and she hated him for it. But she’d seen his tenderness and the glint of moisture in his gray eyes as he’d embraced his son.

“Not a complete jerk,” she responded at last.

“Let us know what we can do,” Harper said loyally.

“I will.” Adrienne thanked heaven for her friends.

* * *

S
ITTING
ON
A
couch in the den to be near Reggie’s height, Wade searched for the right way to begin. He settled on, “Did your aunt tell you anything about me?”

The little guy shook his head.

Waded wished they could skip this difficult conversation and cut to the fun part, where he taught his son to surf or play Frisbee or trounce an opponent at Ping-Pong. The guy stuff, instead of all these emotions.

It struck him, though, that this conversation might stand out forever in his son’s memory—the key moment when Reggie found out the truth about his dad. Turning points like this stayed with a person. One holiday when Wade served charity meals to the homeless, he’d sat down later with an eighty-year-old man who’d reminisced about the day his father came home from the war, describing with heartfelt clarity the details of an event seventy years in the past.

Let’s start with the important part.
“I love you,” Wade said. “I’ve always loved you.”

“Mom told me you didn’t care.” The boy’s tongue traced a gap in his teeth where a new one was growing. “That you left us.”

“She forced me to leave.” Much as he disliked maligning the dead, Vicki didn’t deserve to get off easy.

Reggie considered this. “How?”

“Your mom had security guards throw me out of the hospital. She told them I was violent, but I never did anything like that.” Wade’s anger rose at the memory. “She lied about me and tried—well, threatened—to have me arrested. I’m a police officer. I’d have been fired from the police department.”

Reggie folded his hands in front of him. “Mom acted kind of crazy sometimes.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Wade said. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you. I should have been.”

“Aunt Addie keeps me safe.”

A spurt of gratitude replaced his annoyance at the doctor, temporarily anyway. “I’m glad she’s taken care of you. Now I’m here to do that.”

“Why?” Reggie asked.

“Because I love you.”

“I mean, why’d you come back now?”

A reasonable question. “I just found out your mother died. I’ve been living up in Northern California.” Wade brushed his palm across his son’s cheek. “I drove to Safe Harbor as soon as I could.”

“How long will you stay?”

Suggesting that he might remove the boy from his home would be a bad idea, Wade surmised. “Forever, if I can find a job.” Silence descended. After waiting a bit, he said, “Any more questions?”

“No.” Although the boy would probably think of plenty later—this was a heavy conversation for a young kid, Wade acknowledged. Reggie glanced past him out the window. “Did you bring that police-station set?”

Swiveling, Wade saw his gift sitting atop the others. “Sure did.”

“Can we play with it?”

He’s a normal kid. Toys first.
Wade chuckled. “I’d like that. But everybody else brought presents, too. It might hurt their feelings if you play with mine and not theirs.”

“All right.” Reggie wiggled impatiently. Standing in one place for more than a few seconds was obviously a foreign concept at this stage of his development. “Can I go outside?”

“You bet.”

The boy stepped forward and then halted. “What should I call you?”

Longing seized Wade.
Go for what you want.
“Daddy sounds good to me.”

The child appeared to be weighing the matter seriously. “Now that I’m six, I’d rather call you Dad.”

“Done.” Wade held up his hand. To his satisfaction, his little boy ran over and fist-bumped him before scooting out.

That had gone well, or so Wade assumed. If only he knew more about kids and their thought processes.

Well, I’ll learn.

* * *

R
EG
TROTTED
OUT
, eager to join his friends. Adrienne couldn’t tell much from his expression. Through the window, he’d appeared to do more listening than usual, while his father appeared to have treated the boy with respect.

She still wished the man would leave them alone.

Wade rejoined her on the patio. “He says you took care of him when his mom...didn’t. Thank you for that.”

“He seems in good spirits.” A bit grudgingly, Adrienne added, “Thank
you
for handling that tactfully.”

“Did that hurt?”

“Did what hurt?”

“Thanking me.” His playful tone took the edge off his words. At close range, she noted that his eyes were silver-gray, like Reggie’s. Adrienne had never seen anyone else with that exact shade.

“Yes,” she answered honestly. No matter how civil this man was, nothing changed the fact that he might try to take her child away. “We’re meeting tomorrow at the lawyer’s, right?”

Wade’s head tilted in accord. “I’m surprised a doctor like you is free on a weekday.”

“I work an overnight shift in Labor and Delivery, plus some evening office hours.”

His forehead furrowed. “Who stays with Reggie?”

“He has a regular sitter—she’s licensed.” Adrienne resented being interrogated. Still, she supposed the question was warranted. “He sleeps at her house with her family. Occasionally on weekends, if she has other commitments, he stays with Harper or Stacy.”

“That can’t be easy for him.” Wade shifted position, showing signs of restlessness.
Just like his son.

“I sleep while he’s in school, and I’m usually here when he gets home.”
Enough about that. I don’t have to defend myself.
“You’re a police officer. Surely you’ve worked overnights.”

“Well, yes.”

“Then you should understand that we adapt as best we can. Especially parents.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m sure I’ll find out.”

The implication chilled her. “He lives here. With me.”

“For now,” Wade said coolly. “Well, I think I’ll take off. Don’t want to interrupt the party any more than necessary.” He went over to Reggie, who was eagerly pressing his mold over a mound of soft Play-Doh, and rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, kid, I’m leaving, but I’ll see you Tuesday on your actual birthday.”

“And we’ll play with the police set?” The little boy gazed up at him. “Shoot some bad guys?”

“Shoot some pretend bad guys.” Wade’s grin transformed him into the young, open-faced man he’d been when Adrienne had met him all those years ago, she recalled abruptly. If she wasn’t careful, she might start to like him.

Her earlier image of him as a crouching lion came to mind. No matter how appealing he seemed, there was no telling if or when he might pounce.

Chapter Three

For Wade, social events, unless they involved watching football games, quickly wore thin. The aversion dated from his childhood, when family gatherings had usually degenerated into arguments involving either Mom vs. Dad or Daryl vs. Grandpa Bruce.

This one seemed pleasant, though. Wade was glad he’d had a chance to meet, or at least observe, some of the other parents. They obviously played a major role in Reggie’s life.

When he’d speculated about seeking employment out of town and taking Reggie with him, he hadn’t considered the other people in his son’s life. Moreover, everything about Reggie, from his healthy appearance to his trusting nature, showed Adrienne’s loving care. Wade had to admit that the aunt was doing a fine job. Still, if it came to a choice between claiming his son and losing him again, Wade knew which choice he’d make.

He cut through the kitchen. “Leaving already?” Peter, the teacher and coach, was arranging candles on a bear-shaped chocolate cake while a couple other people worked at the counter. “I don’t blame you. If you aren’t used to being around kids, the noise level can be grating.”

“Yeah, it’s new to me.” Wade searched for a polite question and hit on “Which one’s yours?”

“Mia, the little girl with short brown hair and a snub nose, is about to become my stepdaughter,” the man said. “Harper and I are getting married the day after Thanksgiving. Adrienne’s been kind enough to let us have the ceremony here.”

“Generous of her.” Seemed like a lot of work, but women enjoyed planning weddings. And birthday parties, and Christmas celebrations, Wade thought wistfully, remembering his mother. Once again his heart went out to his son. Vicki might have been—
had
been—a messed-up individual, but she’d still been Reg’s mom.

After a polite farewell, Wade turned to go. Patty popped into his path holding a tray of sandwiches. “Hungry?” she asked. “There’s peanut butter, tuna fish and grilled cheese with tomatoes. It tastes good even though it’s healthy.”

His stomach growled as his hand hovered over the tray.

“Take one of each. They’re small.” She shook back her fine, straight hair. “Hey, so I guess there’s a story about why you left town. I never bought that stuff about wanting a change of scenery.”

“Yes. A
long
story.” He bit into the first sandwich. The cheese nearly melted in his mouth.

Patty set the tray down nearby. “While you’re eating, here’s my pitch. We could use another hand at the agency and you’d fit right in. Mike Aaron bought it, you know.”

Wade had no idea what she was talking about, although he did recall Mike Aaron as a detective at the P.D. “Which agency?”

“Fact Hunter.” Patty regarded him curiously. “You knew your grandfather sold it, right?”

“I had no idea.” Wade hadn’t spoken with his grandfather since their bitter quarrel several years ago. Although Bruce Hunter had been furious that Wade had refused to quit his job in Pine Tree and join the investigations agency, the old man hadn’t mentioned selling it.

Maybe he’d been irate because he’d hoped his grandson’s joining him would allow him to keep it afloat. No doubt Bruce had had too much pride to admit he couldn’t keep running the place by himself in his seventies. Well, he should have said so. Might not have changed anything, but Wade, who’d resented what he’d seen as an attempt to control him, might have responded more gently.

“You and your grandpa don’t talk much, eh?” Patty said. “Well, Mike bought the agency a couple years ago with his brother, Lock.”

“Lock? Don’t think I’ve met him.” Despite Wade’s urge to leave, those sandwiches were tasty. Judging by the number of trays still on the counter, there were plenty for this crowd.

“Short for Sherlock, which is perfect for a detective, huh? He was a sheriff’s deputy in Arizona,” she explained. “Yeah, well, then I came on board when I got married. Being a stepmom’s important, and I’d had it with those night shifts—you understand.”

Mouth full, Wade nodded.

“Mike’s brought in some new clients and we’re stretched thin,” she went on. “Fraudulent insurance claims, attorneys needing evidence, companies doing background checks on new hires. Dull stuff, but it pays the bills. You could work on your P.I. license under his supervision.”

“Just got it,” Wade said.

“Perfect!” Scrounging in her pocket, Patty withdrew a business card. “There’s the office number. I’ll tell Mike to expect your call.”

“Pushy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, although she was only a few inches shorter than him.

“Always.”

Wade took the card. Fact Hunter Investigations. Who’d have imagined he’d ever consider working there? “Maybe I will.”

“Good seeing you.” She reclaimed the tray. “Reggie’s a cute little dude.”

“I think so, too.”

As he ducked out, it occurred to Wade that his father hadn’t bothered to mention the sale of the agency. Surely he’d heard about it, if only afterward.

It would be a stroke of luck finding a position in Safe Harbor. Being a father was a complicated business, Wade could see. Living near Reg’s friends and aunt would mean not having to tear his son away from familiar surroundings. They’d be able to get acquainted gradually, building a relationship step-by-step.

Things looked promising. A little too promising. In Wade’s experience, the minute you got comfortable, matters exploded in your face.

All the same, he might give Mike Aaron a call.

* * *

“Y
OU
DIDN
’
T
HAVE
a clue he was coming?” Harper asked as she and Adrienne tossed out the last dropped teddy-bear grahams and torn pieces of party hat.

The other parents had helped clean up, too, so there wasn’t much left to do. With Stacy tiring easily due to her pregnancy, Adrienne had sent her and Cole home.

Mia and Reggie had carted his gifts to his room. The pair, who acted more like brother and sister than friends, was playing happily with all those new toys, judging by the squeals and giggles drifting from the upstairs window.

“We’re meeting with the attorney tomorrow to set some ground rules.” Since Adrienne didn’t care to discuss Wade further, even with a close friend, she changed the subject. “You’re sure you want to plan the wedding outdoors? The weather can be tricky in late November.” While Southern California enjoyed mild winters, that didn’t preclude rain.

Concerned about the cost of a wedding, Harper and Peter had discussed asking his parents, who lived inland, to hold it at their house. But their place was fairly small, so Adrienne had offered up hers. She enjoyed seeing her home full of friends.

“I prefer a garden setting, and if we keep everything outside, there’s less cleanup.” Since it was the second wedding for both bride and groom, they were taking an informal approach. The guest list was short, and the only members of the wedding party would be Peter’s father as best man and Mia as flower girl. Instead of a white gown, Harper had selected a knee-length dress in autumnal shades: golden-yellow, tawny-brown and red-orange.

“Of course, we can move inside if necessary,” Adrienne mused.

“You’re incredibly thoughtful.” Harper dropped a lump of hardening Play-Doh into the trash bag. “Some people prefer to reserve Black Friday for their Christmas shopping.” They’d scheduled the wedding for the day after the holiday.

“I’d rather be with friends.” Prowling across the grass, Adrienne retrieved a crumpled teddy-bear birth certificate. The kids had filled them out for their stuffed animals.

“You do have plans for Thanksgiving dinner, right?” Harper asked. “We’re going to eat with Peter’s parents. You’d both be welcome, I’m sure.”

“I’m on duty that night. But yes, we have plans.” Those involved treating her nephew to supper at a favorite restaurant, after which he’d join his sitter and her family. While it was painful being away from him, someone had to deliver the babies. Also, the trade-off was that Adrienne didn’t have to work Christmas Eve or Christmas night.

“If you’re sure...” Harper stopped as childish voices drifted from an upstairs window.

“Don’t open that!” Reggie shouted.

“I want to play with it,” Mia answered stubbornly.

“No way! My dad gave me that.”

His dad.
The boy had already accepted Wade in that role. It hurt, even though Adrienne knew that fathers were important. Reg used to cling to Mia’s father, Sean. His death in an off-road vehicle accident had been hard on them all. Recently, Peter and Cole had grown close to Reggie, but they were both still busy adjusting to their new families and had limited time.

So many losses. Maybe she ought to be grateful that Wade seemed eager to step in, but she didn’t trust him.

“I let
you
play with stuff my dad gives me,” Mia responded. Although the little girl treasured the memory of her late father, she’d begun referring to Peter as her dad.

“Put it down!” Reggie sounded on the verge of a meltdown.

“Okay, okay.”

“Overtired,” Adrienne assessed. “Let’s call it a day.”

“Good idea.” Harper waved to Peter, who’d just emerged from stowing tables and chairs in a storage room that opened directly to the yard. “Let’s go scrape Mia off the carpet.”

Soon they were gone. In the kitchen, Adrienne paused to center herself. The refrigerator hummed as if happy to be stuffed with leftovers. On a rack above the old stove, light gleamed off the copper pots and pans that she rarely used. But they’d been there as long as Adrienne could remember, and she treasured them.

With a jolt, the attorney’s statement came back to her. Wade could lay claim to Reggie’s half of this house if he chose to, and its contents, as well. Adrienne wasn’t even close to paying off her medical school debts. There was no way she could buy him out.

He hasn’t asked for anything yet.
She’d have to be on her guard, though. All the more because of Wade’s undeniably appealing masculinity, which had—much as she disliked admitting it—stirred a tantalizing physical awareness.

Good job being attracted to the wrong guy, Adrienne. Again.

After a disastrous engagement during her residency, she’d sworn off men for a while. Then, during her mother’s final illness nearly four years ago, she’d moved in to this house to help Vicki and Reggie. Between her work schedule and their needs, Adrienne lacked the emotional energy to pursue a relationship. Not that she’d been tempted by anyone.

And she wasn’t tempted now, not on any serious level. Especially since she had no idea what would happen when they met with the attorney tomorrow. Once Wade had a chance to reflect about this house and its obvious value, would he remain civil or would he show a different, greedy side?

She hoped he wasn’t that kind of person, for her nephew’s sake as well as hers. Like it or not, Reggie’s father was going to loom large in his son’s emotional landscape.

Rapid footsteps—Reggie rarely moved at any speed slower than high gear—prepared her for his arrival in the kitchen. Instead of his favorite stuffed animal or the tablet computer he used for educational games and homework, he carried the police station still wrapped in plastic.

“You want to build that in the family room?” she asked.

He clutched it tighter. “I’m saving it till my dad can play with me. On my birthday!”

Again, the word
dad
shook her, a reminder of what Wade’s arrival meant: that nothing would ever be the same, that they’d have to work out an arrangement. As for the possibility of losing Reg entirely, Adrienne refused to dwell on that. Because she’d fight this man with everything she had, if it came to that.

“Okay.” She hadn’t planned any particular activities for Tuesday beyond a special early dinner. Her office hours started at 6:00 p.m. on Tuesdays, so even on Reggie’s birthday, she had to drop him at the sitter’s by 5:30 p.m.

Wade might not be thrilled about sandwiching his visit between Reggie’s return from school and Adrienne’s departure, but... What was it he’d said?
I’d prefer just the two of us.

Despite the urge to maintain tight control, she recognized that doing so might antagonize the man. Maybe she should allow an unsupervised visit. Surely Wade could be trusted to deliver his son to Mary Beth Ellroy’s house at a reasonable hour.

Reggie broke into her reflections. “What’s for dinner, Aunt Addie?”

“Aren’t you stuffed?” She hadn’t kept track of what he’d eaten earlier, though. In his excitement, he might have left most of the food on his plate.

“I’m hungry.”

Time to turn back into Mommy, Adrienne thought as she opened the refrigerator. “Lots of sandwiches and veggies, and cake and ice cream for dessert.”

“Yay!” Her nephew pulled his step stool from under the sink and stood on it to retrieve his favorite plate and cup from a cabinet. Slightly chipped, they belonged to a beloved set that had been in the family for generations.

Sooner or later everything would belong to Reggie. Unable to have children of her own, Adrienne had taken for granted that he would grow up here, secure in her love and his inheritance.

A pang twisted through her.
I won’t lose him. I can’t.

She ducked her head, refusing to let Reg see her distress. Tomorrow she and Reg’s father were meeting with the attorney.

She just hoped Wade Hunter didn’t intend to spring any unpleasant surprises.

* * *

A
FTER
THE
AIRINESS
of the Cavill house, Daryl’s apartment felt cramped and dark. Wade didn’t mind the worn furniture and nearly bare shelves, which he dusted before putting away the food he’d bought, yet he couldn’t help contrasting the place to Adrienne’s comfortable home.

When he’d imagined bringing his son to live with him, he’d had a vague idea about them settling into a buddy-type relationship, the way he and Daryl had during his teen years, after Mom had left. The reality of a six-year-old boy was another matter entirely.

“Sorry about the food situation,” remarked his father. “Working two jobs, I don’t have time to cook.” The oil stains on Daryl’s hands testified to the weekdays he put in as a mechanic at Phil’s Garage, in addition to his duties as apartment manager.