RISK(45)
"No." He takes a deep breath. "Please sit, Ellie. Let me explain."
I sit far from enough from him that I'm satisfied he can't reach out and touch me. I don't want that. I can't feel his skin against mine as I listen to this. "What's your daughter's name?"
He looks surprised. He swallows before he answers. "May. Her name is May."
"May," I repeat it quietly. "It's pretty."
"She's pretty." His brows are drawn. "I'd tell you that she's the prettiest girl in the world, but I'm her dad, so my perception is skewed. Aside from that, she is the prettiest little girl I've ever seen."
"What does she look like?"
He moves. His legs spread as he reaches toward his front pocket but then he stops. "I could show you some of the pictures I have on my phone but I'd much rather you see for yourself in person. I'd like you to meet her."
I'd like that too. I think. At some point, I would like it. Not now. Not yet.
He looks at me pensively. "I don't tell the women I spend time with about May. I haven't until now. I'm protective of her. I need to be."
"Aren't all fathers protective of their daughters?" I ask with a smile.
"I suppose they are." He studies the room we're in. There's nothing notable about it but his gaze slides over every piece of furniture and the framed pictures of Adley's family.
He's waiting. Waiting for me to say something. Anything.
"I meant what I said in my office earlier, Ellie." He shifts in his seat, moving closer to where I am. "I'd like us to date exclusively. I realize I made the suggestion before you knew I was a single dad, but I still want us to spend time together."
I nod, but what comes out of my mouth isn't fueled by my desire to date him. It's driven by my need to know more about his daughter, and her mother. The woman he made love to and created a life with. "What's your relationship with May's mom like? Is it civil? Do you see her often?"
Closing his eyes, he bows his head, his hand scrubbing over the back of his neck. "I don't see her. I don't know her. I have no idea who May's mother is."
Chapter 29
Nolan
She looks at me the way you'd expect a woman to look at a man who she believes is throwing bullshit in her direction.
I brace for the question. It's the same question I've heard from my family, from Crew, and before his death, even my grandfather sat me down and looked me in the eye before he asked it.
"You don't know who her mother is? How is that possible, Nolan?"
When you f*ck so many women that you can't remember names or faces it suddenly becomes possible.
When you look into the face of a baby and see only yourself reflected back, it becomes possible.
"May was left just inside the lobby doors of the building I took you to last night. She was an infant. There was a note with her addressed to me. It was handwritten but untraceable. There was nothing else left with her other than a blanket and the diaper she was wearing."
Her eyes flick across my face at lightning speed. "Someone just left her all alone?"
I nod. "The doorman found her once she started crying. He called me and I called the police."
"The police?" There's no judgment in her tone. It's a simple question.
"I didn’t know what to do. I knew that I needed to make sure she was all right, so I called 911."
She moves slightly, closer to me, although her hands remain stiff in her lap. "What happened then?"
It's a blur, but it's not. I was floating on something back then. It was fear and joy. Hope and disbelief. "I demanded a DNA test and that I be allowed to take her back home with me."
"Were you able to?" she asks, running her hands over her knees. "Did they let you take her home?"
"My lawyer fought hard, but yes." I sigh. "There were stipulations including my sister and her husband agreeing to become May's temporary guardians. They'd adopted a boy a few months before so the court saw that as a plus. The three of them needed to move in with me temporarily, but their presence guaranteed May could stay."
"That's why you moved to another apartment," she breathes. "You needed the room."
"I negotiated a rental agreement the day May was released from the hospital and the nursery was fully equipped within hours. I bought the place a week later."
"She was in the hospital?"
"A precaution," I explain. "There was no record of her birth. We had no idea if there were complications, but thankfully she was fine. A bit premature, but fine."
"When did you know for certain that she was your daughter?" The first sign of a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.
"The first time I held her." I look directly into her eyes. "In that lobby, I picked that baby up and looked down at her and I knew. I knew she was mine."
***
I asked for a glass of water to chase down the lump in my throat. It did little good. It was worth it, though. Ellie sat closer to me when she brought me the glass. So close that I can reach out to touch the bare skin of her legs. I haven't, but the temptation is there.