She just didn’t want him to be disappointed in her—or her child.
She dialed his number and took a seat at the kitchen table because that’s where she and her father’d had most of their serious talks when she was younger. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, baby, what’s up?”
“I’m pregnant, Dad.”
“Oh, okay.” She recognized his shocked, stalling phrase.
“I’m really early on, so I wasn’t going to say anything yet, but it’s something that has to be considered when I think about moving home.”
Her father cleared his throat. “What about the father?”
She could have lied then, but she wanted a better relationship with her father and that required honesty. “It was nothing serious.” Even though she told herself she was okay with it, saying the words still hurt. She reminded herself harshly that she hadn’t known him long. Whatever feelings she might think she had for him were likely side effects from all the hormones rushing around her body. I refuse to miss a man I never really knew. Yes, meeting him changed my life in more ways than I was prepared for, but I will not be sad if it ends up meaning nothing to him.
“Is he going to be part of the child’s life?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Dad. There’s something I need to ask you, though, before I come back.”
“Anything.”
Viviana let out a slow breath before saying, “Were you ever scared?”
“About parenting?” He made a pained sound. “Of course I was. And it doesn’t get easier. You always worry if you’re doing it right.” He was quiet a moment, then added, “When your mother died, I looked into sending you to live with your aunt. I spend all my time with men. I thought you might be better with someone who knew about female things. In the end, I loved you too much to let you go, and I had to hope that was enough.”
Viviana did cry then. Silent tears because her father didn’t need to know what she’d had in her head and heart for too long. “You did a great job, Dad. That’s why I want to raise my baby around you, Dylan, and Connor. I want this baby, and I want it to be around people I know will love it.”
“Then you’re right to come home, baby. Does this mean you want your old room?”
Her time in Boston had helped her find her voice and understand that it was okay to want a place of her own. “No, I still want my own place, but maybe close enough that we could walk over.”
Her father laughed. “Do you remember Henry and Stella Hahn? They’re selling their house. It’s three blocks away, which might be good exercise for you when you get fat.”
“You did not just say that.”
“I did.” He laughed again and a huge smile spread across her face. The one thing construction company owning dads didn’t do was sugar things up.
“Well, Grandpa, three blocks sounds like a long way for someone who will soon have a walker, but we’ll meet you halfway—me, the baby, and my big post pregnancy butt.”
“Hang on, your brothers just came in. Hey, Connor and Dylan, start washing your hands more, Viviana is having a baby.” He groaned. “No, not right this minute. She hasn’t been gone that long. I worry about them, Viv. I really do. We have to find them wives or something. I won’t always be around to explain life to them.”
“You’re not going anywhere for a long, long time, Dad.”
“No, I’m not, baby,” her father assured her quickly.
Viviana hadn’t meant her comment to sound as dramatic as it came out. She couldn’t imagine her life without him. Milestones in her future flashed before her eyes and she wanted him at all of them. He needed to be the one to teach her child to fish. Boy or girl, she wanted her child to enjoy the side of her father she had enjoyed. Suddenly all those memories of sharing bagged lunches on construction sites with her family and their crew, listening to questionably appropriate stories from how they’d all spent their weekend, wasn’t so bad. She wanted her child to know the joy of learning to ride a bike on the shaded sidewalk of the tree-lined street she grew up on. Odd how her view of so much had changed since she’d been away. I guess sometimes you can’t see how good something is until you experience life without it.
What would Grant think of that kind of life? Would he consider his privileged childhood better? If she’d told him about their baby would he have tried to take the child from her, wrongly thinking he could give it a better life? The mere idea of that sent a shiver down her back. It doesn’t matter what he would or wouldn’t think since he’ll never know about this child.
Chapter Eleven
‡
Two painfully long days later, Grant ended his day by changing into jogging clothes and heading out the front door of his building. He needed to clear his head before he saw his family that night. His siblings had debated when and what to say to their parents and decided to wait until their mother’s latest charity event was over. Kenzi organized a mid-week family dinner under the guise of Andrew wanting to see everyone again before heading back to Florida where he and his wife now had a beautiful house near her parents’ animal rescue.
After this, the worst of it would be over. If their mother took the news hard, that was to be expected, but she wasn’t alone. Together they would help her through it. His family finally had the truth. Now they could let go and heal.
He checked his watch and was about to take off in a run when he heard a man say, “That’s him.”
“Are you sure? He doesn’t look rich.”
The hair on the back of Grant’s neck went up. Was I too confident there would be no consequence to learning the truth? I’m smarter than this. I should have taken into account that there might be someone left who would be afraid of loose ends.
He turned slowly on his heel, his body coiled and readying to dodge a bullet if need be. Two tall blond men in jeans and plaid shirts didn’t look like hitmen, but since he didn’t have much experience with those he really couldn’t say.
“I’ve seen a photo of him. That’s definitely him,” one of the men said.
“You think he can hear us?”
They each were about Grant’s height and build, but they weren’t exactly intellectually intimidating. Grant relaxed somewhat. “Who are you looking for?”
One of the men stepped forward and scowled at him. “Are you Grant Barrington?”
“If I am?” Grant asked, still assessing both threat and angles for defense.
“We’re here about Viviana Sutton.”
He grabbed the nearest one by the front of his shirt and hauled him closer. If these buffoons thought they could threaten him by threatening her, they were about to be introduced to reality. “If anything happens to her, there is nowhere you or anyone you care about could hide. I’m not Stiles. I’ll strike first, and I’ll keep striking until you and yours are erased.”
“No wonder she didn’t tell him. Dylan, I told you coming here was a bad idea.”
“Stop being such a pussy, Connor. How are we going to scare him if you piss yourself? It doesn’t matter who he is. We’re not leaving until we know he won’t show his face in Cairo.”
Dylan? Connor? They couldn’t be. Grant released the front of the man’s shirt. “First of all, I can hear you. Second, is your last name Sutton?”
Connor said, “He probably wants it for the police report.”
Dylan added, “We didn’t do anything wrong. He threatened us. Dad couldn’t be mad at that. He grabbed you. We’re still fine.”
“Dad told us to stay out of it. Now he knows our names. Viviana is going to kills us if she finds out we did this.”
So, this is Viviana’s family. They could not have been more different than Grant’s bothers. I kind of like them. “Why are you here? Is Viviana okay?” I knew I hurt her, but enough that she went home? That thought made him sick.
“Maybe she was right not to tell him. Listen to him. Does he sound like someone you’d want to share custody of a child with?” Connor asked
.
Dylan grabbed his brother’s arm and yanked him away for a private conference a few feet away on the sidewalk. Connor’s question ricocheted through Grant.
Without hesitation Grant joined their think tank. No. She can’t be pregnant. Then he remembered how they hadn’t used protection the first time. “Is Viviana pregnant?”
“We are so screwed,” Connor said, shaking his head.
Dylan turned and went nose to nose with Grant. “I don’t care who you are or what you think you could do. If you mess with Viviana again, we have large machinery and huge fields. That’s the kind of erasing that would meet you in Cairo.”
“Is she pregnant?” Grant repeated his question in a harsher voice.
“We might as well tell him. He knows now,” Connor said.
