The Blackstone Heir. Dani Wade
the far side of the bar to catch a quick glimpse of her slipping out the back door. He knew her mother and grandmother lived in a small house behind the bar, so that must be where she was heading. If he intercepted her on her way back in, he could confront her without an audience.
All the better.
He could just make out her figure in the darkness as he made his way outside. Her body was silhouetted in the porch light from her family’s house. He slowed his long stride. As she mounted the steps, the door opened and a woman who looked enough like her to be her mother stepped out.
That was when he heard another noise. But what caught his attention in that moment was what the older woman was holding.
A crying baby.
Jacob’s world narrowed to the child.
“Goodness, girl.” The voice of KC’s mother drifted to where he stood in the darkness. “I can’t get Carter to stop crying for nothing. He wants his mama and no one else.”
Jacob’s legs carried him closer, his brain on hold as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.
KC reached for the baby with the ease of a woman familiar with the move. The crying stopped almost immediately as she snuggled the child close into the crook of her neck. So natural. So beautiful.
So his.
The knowledge exploded over him in a wave of heat. As she swayed in the porch light, Jacob couldn’t look away from the unusual dark golden curls that covered the baby’s head.
“My brother and I had those same kind of curls,” he murmured inanely.
In the newfound silence, they must have heard. KC jerked around to face him. But it was her mother Jacob found himself watching as the older woman’s rounded eyes confirmed the suspicions in Jacob’s whirling brain.
“KC,” she said sharply, then stepped back through the door into the house.
KC didn’t look in his direction again. She disappeared through the yellow rectangle of light in the entrance before slamming the door behind her, leaving Jacob alone in the dark.
It took a moment to get his feet to obey. As if by remote control, they carried him back to his brothers. He sank into the seat without really feeling it, seeing any of it. The numbness kept him from thinking, from dealing with the reality of what he’d just seen.
The bubble burst as he looked across the booth at his twin brother. Instantly, images of photographs from their childhood flooded his brain. Two boys, both with that thick dark blond hair. Curls all over until they’d gotten old enough to tame them.
“Jacob?” Luke said, hunching forward into his line of vision. “Jacob, are you okay? Where’d you go?”
Reaching out, Jacob picked up his half-full glass of wine and lifted it to his lips to perform the ultimate wine drinker’s depravity. He chugged until every single drop was gone.
Then he set the glass down carefully and lay his palm flat beside it, praying the solidity of the table would ground him in the spinning room.
Luke lay his own palm on the table, mirroring Jacob’s. “You cool?” Their version of letting each other know they were there.
And just like that, the words came to him, along with the anger. “I think I’m a daddy.”
Twenty-four hours later, Jacob finally stopped seething enough to confront KC. When he’d imagined what it would be like to find out he was going to be a parent, he’d pictured being across the table from his wife at an intimate dinner or seated next to each other in a doctor’s office. Instead, the most gorgeous woman in the world had made him a father—and failed to mention it for twelve months.
The numbness had melted into rage, keeping Jacob awake long into the night. He went over the figures time and again. They hadn’t spoken for seven months—he was ashamed that he could remember it to the day. He didn’t have a lot of experience, but he’d guess the baby to be three to four months old. So how long had she known she was pregnant before she left? Two months? Three? Either way, they’d definitely been together when she found out. And those curls proved the baby to be a Blackstone heir.
He knew better than to see her before he calmed down. He couldn’t be responsible for his actions while struggling with the deepest emotions he’d ever known. Control was his drug of choice—being out of control was something he preferred to keep well hidden. So he waited until he had his reactions under lock and key, and then he got in the car and drove.
KC lived a little outside town in a tiny house. Though there were other houses around, it wasn’t really a subdivision. More of a series of dwellings that had sprung up over time as family members and friends and even acquaintances bought land and started building. The result was individual, with plenty of space and large trees. Ideal starter homes. Just imagining the possibilities ignited his anger once more.
He knew she’d be there—familiarity with her schedule gave him an advantage.
Sure enough, the door opened before he even knocked. She didn’t speak, but simply turned back into the house, leaving him to follow. His gaze tracked her, cataloging every inch as she walked to the far end of the living room. Yeah, that body had changed, all right.
If he’d known what he was looking for, he’d have noticed right away. He’d been too busy searching for a connection in her eyes. But drinking in the whole package in jeans and a tank top, he saw the more dramatic curve from her waist to her hips, the added fullness in her breasts and a touch of softness in her jawline.
He’d thought nothing could make her more beautiful, but somehow having his baby had. And he hadn’t been allowed to be a part of it.
Irritation with his attraction only ramped up his intensity. Carefully shuttering every window to his soul, he faced off with her in true Blackstone fashion.
He jerked his head in the direction of the driveway. “Someone else here?” he asked, referring to the car parked behind hers. So help him, if there was a man living here, he just might explode. Had she moved on that quickly? Had she let another man care for Jacob’s child?
“Mom,” she said quietly, slightly dampening his fuse. “She’s in the nursery with Carter.”
His throat almost closed. “Carter, huh?”
“Yes. Jake Carter.”
Jake. Her nickname for Jacob—spoken with laughter, with intensity, with passion. It seemed more personal to name the baby that than to give him Jacob’s last name.
“So you admit that he’s mine?”
“Of course,” she said, as if it made perfect sense under the circumstances. How could anything she’d done make perfect sense?
He stalked closer. “Why would you do this, KC? Was I really so horrible to you that you refused to let me be a part of—this?”
“That was never the issue, Jacob—”
“Then what was?” A really deep breath helped him lower his voice. It kept rising without his permission. Control. He needed control. “What was the issue, KC? Because I can’t imagine one big enough that you told yourself it was okay to deceive me. To keep my son a secret from me.”
Her arms crossed over her ribs, pushing those delectable breasts higher in the tank top. Something he shouldn’t notice right now. At all.
“I did not deceive you. I never lied. I was going to tell you. I just hadn’t figured out how.”
“So he’s three months old?”
“Yes, a week ago.”
“So at any time in the past twelve months you could have picked up the phone. Or hell, just answered the phone