An Irresistible Bachelor (An Unforgettable Lady #2)(74)

“You say you love me, but how can you if you don’t trust me enough to share all the parts of your life with me? Are you worried something will change my opinion of you? Because nothing will. There isn’t anything you could tell me that would make me pull back.”

She glanced down at her hands and wondered whether she was really worried about that. Did she honestly think he would bolt just because she was a bastard? Of course not.

Jack’s voice darkened. “I’ll tell you what, though. This silence could drive me away.”

Callie looked up, searching his face for the courage she knew she needed to find in herself. She took a deep breath.

This was Jack, she told herself. This was Jack. This was Jack. This was—

Feeling like she was leaping into a black hole, she blurted out, “My father and mother were never married.”

His face changed instantly. It was as if he’d relaxed and become saddened for her at the same time.

“My father was married to another woman. He had a family, a whole life, outside of my mother and me, and we were the lesser of the two. He never acknowledged me in any formal way; his name’s not even on my birth certificate.”

Jack came over and she felt his strong hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“I—I grew up knowing that we were always second best. That he loved my mother just enough to never let her go free.” She leaned into him, resting her head on his hip. As she did, he made some sort of quiet noise, an encouragement to keep talking mixed with the regret he was obviously feeling. “I watched his burial from a stand of birches, fifty yards away from the gravesite. I only knew about the ceremony at all because I followed my half sister without her knowing it.”

He brushed her hair back.

“I . . . This is hard to talk about for me because I’ve never told anyone before. I was taught to keep quiet. It was the only way he would stay in our lives.” She tried to smile but couldn’t pull it off. “Old habits and all that.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she murmured, “So am I.”

Jack’s hand rubbed her back in circles.

She tilted her head so she could look up into his eyes. “I don’t know what I thought would happen if I actually told someone. If I told you. It’s not like my head exploded or anything. I suppose I thought it might.” She tried to laugh a little, but the sadness she felt came out raggedly instead. “It was hard growing up. Other girls talked about their fathers with such . . . ownership. My father did this. My father did that. I had a father. After a long time of hoping he’d come around and be who I wanted him to be, I realized I was never going to make the possessive pronoun fit. Talking about him as my father was like claiming something that wasn’t there.”

Jack took her hand and urged her out of the chair. “Come over here. I want to hold you for a while.”

Which was what she wanted, too.

They settled on the couch, and he pulled her onto his lap. “You know your father’s bad judgment was not your fault, right?”

“I know.”

“You deserved a hell of a lot better.”

She hadn’t really thought about that much. Growing up, she’d been too busy trying to please. As an adult, she’d been preoccupied with trying to forget.

“So am I forgiven?” she said against his shoulder.

“Absolutely.”

“Because I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” His hand stroked the back of her neck.

“I really wanted to tell you, but—”

He silenced her with a soft kiss. “Don’t worry. I understand completely. And when it comes to the election, I don’t want you to be concerned. This is not going to be a problem.”

She pulled away. “Excuse me?”

“The press would only care if your father was someone already in the public eye. We can easily protect you and argue there’s nothing newsworthy in your past.”

“I can’t possibly be hearing you right,” she muttered in disbelief.

“Callie, I’m not downplaying the effect this had on you,” he said. “Not at all.”

She started shaking her head. They were back to square one. “You don’t get it. I still don’t want to answer anyone’s questions, especially not a journalist’s.”

“But you don’t have to worry. It’s going to be okay. Nothing is going to get out in the media.”

Callie gripped his shoulders. “Yes, it will.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Who exactly was your father?”

She dropped her hands. She couldn’t go that far. Even with Jack. “Isn’t it enough to know what happened?”

“Clearly not. Who was he, Callie?”

She broke free and walked across the room.

“You’re shutting me out again,” he said darkly.

“Stop pushing me, okay?”

“Callie,” his voice was sharp, “if I’m pressuring you, it’s because I only have half the story. You’re leaving out the most important part.”

She wheeled around. “I would have hoped the most important part was me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”