“No. You don’t.”
The sternness of his voice accomplished everything her good intentions couldn’t do. She totally forgot how romantic their surroundings were. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, I’m sorry. You’re not prying.” He sighed, stretching his hands across the table as if he would have caught her fingers as part of his apology if he were allowed. “It’s just not a pleasant memory.”
“He was a bad dad?”
“He was bad dad, a crappy husband and borderline thief in business.”
She winced. “You sort of mentioned that when Max offered you the job. You said you wouldn’t have worked for your dad but Max had changed the company.”
He chuckled, but without a hint of happiness. “I’m making myself sound like the villain for disliking him so much. But trust me, he earned my dislike and my mother’s and in the end even Max’s.”
“Even Max’s?”
He sat back in the booth. “Max was the one who discovered that Brandon Montgomery was my real father.”
“Your real father?”
“My biological father. He told Gwen that his secretary had gotten pregnant and couldn’t keep the baby. So he thought they should adopt me, then she wouldn’t have to worry about the couple who got her son. At the time they had only Max, and mom had always wanted another child though Brandon didn’t. So she thought adopting me was his way of making that up to her.”
Sympathy for Gwen filled her. “But he was the guy who had gotten his secretary pregnant?”
“Yes.”
This time, she leaned back. “That’s awful.”
“That’s the tip of the iceberg with my dad, who, God rest his soul, seemed to have a knack for lying to everybody.”
“But if he lied, how do you know all this?”
“I overheard my dad and Max arguing about keeping the secret when I was eighteen. That’s why I ran away. I thought if Max knew, he should have told me. But he’d only learned through office gossip and was trying to get my dad to confirm it. When he did, he wanted him to do the right thing. He wouldn’t. Then he died and Max told our mom the whole truth a few years ago. She took it hard, but it helped her to understand why I left and they started looking for me, asking me to come home. That kind of stuff.” He shrugged. “When I had the twins, I couldn’t refuse them anymore. I needed help. Gwen and I talked it out and realized we’d always been mother and son—no matter who my biological mom and dad were—because she’d raised me.”
“That’s amazing.” Unable to help herself, she laid her hand on the hand he had resting on the table. “And wonderful.”
He snorted a laugh and flipped his hand over so he could wrap it around hers. He squeezed lightly. “It is.”
“And it’s going to make you a really great dad.”
“Yeah, if I survive the toddler years.”
She pulled her hand back with great regret. “Oh, trust me, the toddler stage is fun and games compared to the teen years.”
He laughed.
She smiled at him and once again urges pummeled her. They were so close emotionally that physical needs sprang up without warning. Not just sexual nudges, but the simple yearning to touch. To hold hands. Brush the wisp of dark hair from his forehead. Squeeze his hand.
The waitress came over, setting their food in front of them. Chance said, “Thanks.”
As the waitress scurried away and he examined his food, she studied him. He didn’t seem to know what a well-balanced, smart guy he was. Considering everything that had happened in his life, he should have been the grouchy guy she thought he was when they first met. Instead, he was kind, generous, determined to be a good dad.
It was no wonder she wanted to fall in love with him.
They dug into their pasta and he began talking about the twins. “You know, one of my biggest worries about having twins is the problem I had with Max.”
“You had a problem with Max?”
“He was the perfect older brother but he was also the golden boy. Even if I hadn’t discovered my dad’s duplicity, I probably would have gone at some point if only to make my own mark, to not have to compete, to be seen as my own person.” He set down his fork and caught her gaze. “I don’t want to do that to the twins. I don’t want them to feel they’re in competition. Or one is better than the other.”
“With a girl and a boy, I don’t think there’ll be as much chance of that as there would have been if we had two boys or two girls on our hands.”