The Playboy's Baby Page 4

  ~Janey

  Chapter Three

  Emma clutched Annie tighter, using her like a lifeline, and waited for Dillon’s reaction. After reading Janey’s letter, he swore under his breath, flung the paper to the couch beside him, and surged to his feet. For several minutes, he silently paced an invisible line. The front part of his house had an open floor plan, with the kitchen, dining and living areas separated only by an expanse of wooden flooring. He made his way back and forth along one slip of counter at the edge of the kitchen. A deep scowl etched his brow, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He reminded her of a ticked-off bull who hadn’t yet figured out which direction to charge. It made her chest tighten to watch him. She couldn’t lessen the blow of this one.

  “I’m so sorry.” She shook her head. “If I’d known, I would have demanded Janey tell you sooner.”

  “Dammit.” His head snapped in her direction, his dark eyes hot. “Why the hell didn’t she come to me? What did she think, I’d deny it? Just abandon her? Tell her too bad, so sad, deal with it?” He shook his head, spun away and dragged both hands through his hair. “Like all the rest of the men in her life, I suppose. Why should I be any different? Never mind I’ve known her my entire damn life.”

  Annie stiffened and little fists clenched at Emma’s blouse. When she began to whimper, Emma patted her back to soothe her. “Please calm down.”

  He stopped in the center of the kitchen and turned those raging eyes on her. “I had a right to know!” The words burst from his lips at an angry clip, making Annie flinch. A distinct pain shone from the depths of his eyes that made her heart ache.

  She hugged Annie tighter and rubbed small circles over her back. “That’s why I’m here, but you need to quiet down. You’re scaring Annie.”

  His eyes flitted to the baby. His anger evaporated. His shoulders slumped, and he blew out a heavy breath.

  “Aw, damn.” His arms dropped to his sides. “I’m sorry.”

  Emma mustered a soft smile. One thing she remembered about Dillon—he was a gentle giant. “You have every right to be angry. I was too, but take it out on a punching bag tomorrow, when we’re not here.”

  She drew in a deep breath, drawing her courage around her like a shroud. She had to get this over with sooner or later. She wanted him to be that arrogant playboy, so he couldn’t take Annie away from her, but it wasn’t his fault they were in this position. They had Janey to thank for that. If Emma ever wanted to know if he’d accept the baby, she had to be brave now.

  “Would you like to hold her?” She crossed the room and stopped at his side.

  She expected him to back away. She held her breath and almost hoped he wouldn’t take any interest in Annie. Dillon took a step toward her, instead, and reached out a hesitant hand to caress Annie’s head.

  “She really does look like Janey.” There was a quiet, wistful tone to his voice.

  Drawing her last ounce of strength, Emma extracted Annie from her shoulder and held her out to him. According to the letter, this was what Janey would have wanted.

  Annie fussed, kicking her legs in a frantic effort to connect with something solid.

  He hesitated, his eyes flicking to hers. He waited until Emma gave a nod of encouragement before taking her. He held Annie out in front of him for a moment, looking lost and awkward, clearly out of his element.

  “Hold her against you like this.” Emma made a cradling motion with her arms, showing him how to hold the baby against his shoulder.

  Dillon pulled Annie gingerly against his chest, tucking one arm beneath her bottom and resting the other on her back. Except for their eyes, the two couldn’t be more different. Dillon’s skin had been darkened by the summer sun, whereas Annie’s was pale, creamy porcelain. Being huge like he was, Annie looked like a doll in his arms. He had biceps bigger than her. Yet, somehow, they looked perfect together.

  “God, she’s so small. I’m almost afraid I’m going to break her.” He stared at Annie, awe in his voice, and reached one large finger up to stroke a soft, chubby cheek.

  Emma smiled. “I don’t think we have to worry about that. You were a pain in my butt, but I’ve never known you to be a bully.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted, amusement lighting his eyes when his gaze flicked to her. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Annie leaned back in his arms and the two of them regarded each other. Dillon smiled. When she laid a chubby hand against his mouth, he opened his lips and pretended to eat her fingers, making, “nom nom nom” sounds, eliciting a hearty giggle. That heart-stopping grin spread across his mouth and awe illuminated his eyes.

  Emma’s heart ached, tears burning behind her eyelids. Father and daughter together at last. A bittersweet moment. After seeing them together, she knew she made the right decision coming here. She wanted Annie with her father, but the thought of losing her broke Emma’s heart in two. She couldn’t imagine not seeing Annie’s smiling face each morning or not rocking her to sleep at night. For the first time in her life, she’d be totally alone.

  Wrapping her arms around her middle, Emma turned to stare at the fireplace along the far wall. The orange and gold flames danced along the small pile of logs. If she were lucky, she’d convince Dillon to share custody. It would mean rearranging her entire life. They’d have to share visitation, and she’d likely have to move back to Hastings, but those were small details. She’d do anything to keep Annie.

  “Where are you staying?”

  Dillon’s quiet voice broke into her reverie and she turned sideways to look at him.

  “With Mrs. Emerson at the bed and breakfast.”

  He turned his gaze from Annie to her. “Janey mentioned you sold the house.”

  Her mother’s house, the one she and Janey grew up in. She nodded. “Yeah, not too long after we left town.”

  “Too many memories?”

  She returned her gaze to the floor. After her mother died, it was painful to be in the house. Mama’s presence was in every corner. To be there without her felt wrong, but that wasn’t why she sold it.

  “I couldn’t afford to make the payments.” She heaved a sigh. “Janey hated me when I sold it. She loved that house.”

  Not that it mattered. After getting her accounting degree, Emma landed a position with a large firm in Helena, the nearest big city. The pay was too good to pass up, but Janey never forgave her for leaving home.

  Dillon turned his gaze to Annie, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. For a long moment, he stared at her, looking lost in thought. Then, with a deep breath, he looked at Emma again. “I want the two of you to stay here.”

  “Here? With you?” She darted a glance around, her heart pounding. The implications of his suggestion hit her full force. Stay in this house, with him? Alone? Then she’d have to admit she…

  He grunted in acknowledgement.

  She turned away, her cheeks heating, and vehemently shook her head. “A generous offer, but I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t plan on being in town that long. I’ve only got a few days off. I have to be back at work on Wednesday.” Emma crossed her arms and made herself face him again. She prayed that would be enough to dissuade him, but she knew it likely wouldn’t. When Dillon James wanted something, he usually got it.

  He stared at her for a long moment. Then the crease in his brow deepened. Anger blazed from the depth of his penetrating eyes. “So, what, you just thought you’d dump the news on me and take Annie back with you? Why’d you come, Em? What is it you really want? It’s been eight years. You could very easily have kept her and nobody would have been the wiser.” He arched a brow, his voice low and annoyingly calm. “Is it money?”

  She flinched at the blatant accusation and glared at him. “You know me better than that.”

  He turned his gaze to Annie, lowering his voice. “You’d be surprised how many times the fake pregnancy has been tried on me.”

  “Well, I’d never
do such a thing. You, of all people, should know that.” She wanted to be angry with him for daring to accuse her of trying to use a baby to extort money from him. Money didn’t mean much to her. Bills had to be paid.

  A sad truth shone in Dillon’s eyes she couldn’t ignore. She wondered how many times the phony pregnancy ploy had been played on him.

  He let out a heavy breath. “She’s my daughter. I want her to stay with me. Janey’s kept her from me for too long.” He looked up and arched a brow, his eyes daring her to challenge him. “Of course, I can call my family’s lawyer if I need to.”

  Any other time his comment would have irked the hell out of her. Dillon pulled rank on her, using his name and money like weapons. She couldn’t bring herself to be angry with him for this. Given the situation, he expected her to be the enemy, and why shouldn’t he? Janey had taken his choice away from him.

  It flat out awed her to watch him, the way he looked at Annie. The protective way he held her against his chest. Despite knowing it could mean losing Annie altogether, she had to give him this chance. They both deserved it.

  “If I planned to take her away from you, I wouldn’t be here.”

  He turned his gaze back to Annie, his expression cool and detached. “Then I guess you’re going to have to get used to the idea of living with me for a few days, because I want her to stay with me.”

  The timer on the oven buzzed, filling the silence that suddenly spawned like a living, breathing entity between them. Dillon handed Annie back to her, then moved around her with a calmness Emma wished she shared. She hugged Annie to her chest, glad to hold her again, and turned.

  Watching Dillon trek into the kitchen, dread formed a hard knot in her stomach. He was right. The best thing for Annie would be to give him the time Janey stole from him, but living with him, even for a few days, wouldn’t be anywhere near simple.

  * * *

  Standing at the kitchen sink an hour later, rinsing dishes, Dillon glanced over at Emma. Beside him at the counter, she spooned leftovers into a plastic container, her head bent over the task. Neither of them had said much since they left the table ten minutes ago, but Emma… Emma barely looked at him.

  To say dinner had been awkward was an understatement. They ate in near silence, entirely too aware of each other, struggling to make painful small talk that amounted to discussing the weather and her drive over from the city. Emma sat stiffly in her seat, picking at her food. He wasn’t exactly hungry either. Too much stood between them.

  Now Emma moved about his kitchen, putting leftover food away and helping him with the dishes like she’d been there a million times. The situation built an awkward wall between them. One he longed to break through, simply to feel some sort of ease with her.

  “When we’re done here, we can go over to the bed and breakfast and pick up your things.”

  Emma paused in her task to look at him. She stared for a long moment, and then her shoulders slumped in defeat. “There’s no talking you out of this, is there?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Had he lost his mind inviting her to stay with him, allowing her into his world for more than just one night? He had. With Emma being so close, staying away from her wouldn’t be easy. He wanted her too much. It may have been eight years, he may have grown up a lot in that time, but she was still gorgeous and damned if he didn’t want her the same way he always had.

  Dillon glanced at Annie sound asleep in the car seat, in the corner of the kitchen. He wanted a chance to get to know her. She pulled at a protectiveness deep inside that flat-out floored him. She’d just lost her mother, but she was too young to know. He was the only parent she had left and no matter what, he intended to be there to take care of her and watch her grow.

  He frowned at the sink. Who was he kidding? He had no idea how he’d fit her into his life. He simply didn’t have time for a child. The club took all of his waking hours. Not that any of that mattered. He needed to step up and be the father she needed.

  “I’d also like to go see Doctor Marley tomorrow.” He turned to pull open the dishwasher. “I’d like a blood test done.”

  “You think I’m the type of women who’d lie about something like this?” Emma carried the leftovers to the fridge and put them inside before turning to look at him, those piercing eyes staring him down.

  There was that disappointed look she’d given him so many times over the years. Although it could get him in a world of trouble, he wanted more than anything to permanently wipe it from her eyes. To prove to her he wasn’t that person.

  He shot her a frown. “Don’t look at me like that. I need to know for sure. Frankly, my folks are going to demand a paternity test anyway.”

  Emma pursed her lips, her brow furrowing and turned to stare at the floor. “They think my sister was trouble.”

  He had to laugh at that one. “Janey was trouble and we both know it.”

  She made a sound at the back of her throat. “She’s still my sister, and I loved her.”

  He grabbed a plate from the sink and slotted it into the dishwasher, his chest heavy. Janey had been his best friend since he was seven. She’d always been there. “So did I.”

  Emma crossed the kitchen, grabbed a glass out of the sink, and set it into the dishwasher. “Well, I’d like the test done too. I’d like something a little more concrete to go by than a letter inside a diary I found under her mattress.”

  He quirked a brow. “Because you’re hoping she won’t be mine?”

  This one bothered him. Yet another reminder she didn’t trust him. She appeared to assume what everyone else in town did. That he was a rich playboy, out for a good time. He’d grown up, and he wished just once she’d see that part of him instead.

  Her gaze jerked to his face, moving in search of something. Then finally she shook her head. “Annie deserves a father.”

  “Agreed.” Regret washed over him. He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. “Why the hell didn’t she tell me?”

  Emma sighed. “You read the letter. Janey said she was afraid.”

  That comment got to him. Anger rose in his chest before he could stop it. Dillon opened his eyes and drew his brows together, dropping a cup into the dishwasher with a little more force than intended. “The choice wasn’t hers to make. She should have told me. Contrary to popular belief, I wouldn’t have turned my back on her.”

  “I’m not saying you would have.” Emma laid a gentle hand on his forearm, a gesture of reassurance that somehow soothed a frazzled nerve.

  Barely managing to ignore the warmth of her palm seeping into his skin, he darted a glance at her. Finding the same gentleness in her eyes, his anger deflated. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the papers, you know. They’re not always right.”

  She leaned back against the counter, hands gripping the edge. “Janey once told me you were determined to stay single. The papers said something similar. Were they wrong?”

  There went those intrusive questions again. Dillon shrugged. “No, in that instance, they’re right. I have no desire to get emotionally involved in a relationship.”

  “Why not?”

  Because he had no desire to open his heart to yet another woman only to find out she considered him nothing more than a rich plaything. “I learned the hard way marriage isn’t for me.”

  Yeah, okay, life could get a little lonely every once in a while. Sometimes he craved simple things, like someone to talk to at the end of the day. He learned the hard way that wouldn’t happen for him through a series of relationships that all ended the same way. Him finding out he was being used. Or cheated on. Usually both. Leila Michaels was the last straw. Better simply to stay uninvolved. He found it easier that way. If he didn’t expect anything, he wouldn’t be disappointed.

  Of course, all people ever remembered was that he enjoyed being single. The papers called him a playboy. That he owned the only nightclub in town seemed to fan that particular bit of gossip. Whatever. He could care le
ss what the general public thought of him. He knew who he was.

  Emma was different. He cared what she thought. For some reason, he didn’t want her thinking the worst of him. All she seemed to remember was the irresponsible kid he’d once been. One way or another, he intended to change her view of him. Or die trying. He wanted her to know there was more to him than what everybody else saw.

  “Do you know what it was like to be me growing up?” Dillon turned his head to look at Emma and rinsed the lasagna pan. “To look at the gorgeous cheerleader on my arm and know she only fawned all over me because my family had enough money to buy the entire county? I was a foot taller than damn near everyone and string bean thin, but girls threw themselves at me. I wasn’t stupid. I knew why they were there.”

  “Of course, you went along with it.” Emma cocked a brow, her eyes daring him to deny it. “You couldn’t help yourself.”

  He shook his head and set the rinsed pan in the second sink. “It’s not something I’m proud of. It’s just the way I was. Young and way too curious for my own good.” He darted a glance at her, unable to help the smile that spread across his mouth. “It was a hell of a lot more fun than I was having by myself and wasting my time on girls used to piss off Pop. Why mess with a good thing?”

  “I guess.” Slotting the pan into the dishwasher, she shrugged.

  “Except, here I am, twenty-six and still alone.” He shook his head, memories rising like acid in his stomach. “Still being chased by the gold diggers in this town. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

  She turned to him, sympathy in her gaze. “Janey told me you were supposed to marry Leila Michaels.”

  The one woman who actually made him want a family, then shot those dreams to hell in one flick of her perfectly manicured finger. “Mmm. Then I suppose you also heard it didn’t work out?”

  Emma nodded. “What happened?”