Mack said. Although, gettingBarnaby was only the beginning. There were others on the take, bigger fish to fry.
For the first time since he’d entered the place, Mack’s gaze scanned the room. A second later, he saw what he was searching for. A photograph on the built-in bookshelves by the fireplace.
A photo of a little boy who looked so much like him that his throat swelled.
He picked it up, his heart pounding.The little boy had dark black hair like his, the same stubborn jaw and intense brown eyes. And that cowlick. Damn, he even had his cowlick.
Another photo of the boy caught his eye, this one with Landry at Christmas.
Anger at all the time he’d missed choked him. “Where is he? What’s his name?”
Tears glittered on Lily’s eyelashes. “Winston Mack Rivet. He’s spending the night at myfather’s.”
So she had named their son after him.
“I have to see him,” he said, heading toward the door. “I’ve missed eight years of his life.”
Lily ran after him and grabbed his arm. “Wait, Mack, you can’t, not tonight.”
He swung toward her, his jaw clamped tight. “Dammit, Lily, I thought you two were dead. I...thought I’d lost you, but you were both alive all along.”
“I’m sorry, Mack.” Lily’s voice cracked. “I...I’m so sorry.”
Mack was trembling. “What did you tell him about me?”
Lily blinked back more tears. “Just what I thought, that you died in the storm.”
“Well, I’m not dead,” he said. “And I want to see my son.”
“You will,” Lily said. “But he’s sleeping now, Mack. We can’t wake him up. Let’s wait until the right time.”
When wouldthe right time be?
When he cleared his name? When he arrested Lily’s father?
Dammit, he had to find out the truth, but if he had to arrest her father, Lily would hate him.
And so might his son.
Chapter Three
Mack reined in his temper. She was right. It would be a shock for Winston to learn his father was alive. No use doing it in the middle of the night. “How about in the morning? I’ll go with you to pick him up at your father’s.”
Lily rubbed her arms, her face panicked. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Mack. Especially considering the trouble between you andmy father.”
“He lied to us both,” Mack said. “He owes us an explanation.”
Lily flinched. “I’m sorry, Mack.”
“Stop apologizing for him,” Mack said. “It’s your father who should be sorry. He never wanted us to be together, and by lying he got his wish.”
“Mack—”
“It’s true and you know it.” Mack inhaled a calming breath, questions bombarding him. “What happened that night,Lily? Where have you and Winston been all these years?” God, was she involved with someone else?
Lily sighed. “The night of the storm, I went into labor. Daddy’s friend flew me to Alabama in his helicopter before the worst hit. I gave birth to Winston that night, and we lived there until a couple of months ago.” She rubbed a hand over her mouth, drawing him to those damned kissable lips.“Meanwhile, Dad was working with Mayor Barrow on the rebuilding campaign, and he convinced me to move back and help.”
Mack gestured to the house. “But you didn’t move in with him?”
Lily smiled sardonically. “No, I wanted to be queen of my own castle.”
Mack nodded. “You always did like having your own space.” And she had stood up to her father. At one time, he’d even wondered ifshe’d dated him as an act of rebellion.
Still, rebelling and helping him get dirt on her father were two different things.
“What time are you going to your father’s house in the morning?”
Lily chewed her bottom lip. “Eight. I want to have breakfast with Winston.”
Eight o’clock sounded like decades away. But he didn’t want to frighten his son by storming in and attacking Landry.
Which was exactly what he might do if he saw him tonight.
“Mack?”
“Breakfast with our son sounds good.” He paused. “And, Lily,
For the first time since he’d entered the place, Mack’s gaze scanned the room. A second later, he saw what he was searching for. A photograph on the built-in bookshelves by the fireplace.
A photo of a little boy who looked so much like him that his throat swelled.
He picked it up, his heart pounding.The little boy had dark black hair like his, the same stubborn jaw and intense brown eyes. And that cowlick. Damn, he even had his cowlick.
Another photo of the boy caught his eye, this one with Landry at Christmas.
Anger at all the time he’d missed choked him. “Where is he? What’s his name?”
Tears glittered on Lily’s eyelashes. “Winston Mack Rivet. He’s spending the night at myfather’s.”
So she had named their son after him.
“I have to see him,” he said, heading toward the door. “I’ve missed eight years of his life.”
Lily ran after him and grabbed his arm. “Wait, Mack, you can’t, not tonight.”
He swung toward her, his jaw clamped tight. “Dammit, Lily, I thought you two were dead. I...thought I’d lost you, but you were both alive all along.”
“I’m sorry, Mack.” Lily’s voice cracked. “I...I’m so sorry.”
Mack was trembling. “What did you tell him about me?”
Lily blinked back more tears. “Just what I thought, that you died in the storm.”
“Well, I’m not dead,” he said. “And I want to see my son.”
“You will,” Lily said. “But he’s sleeping now, Mack. We can’t wake him up. Let’s wait until the right time.”
When wouldthe right time be?
When he cleared his name? When he arrested Lily’s father?
Dammit, he had to find out the truth, but if he had to arrest her father, Lily would hate him.
And so might his son.
Chapter Three
Mack reined in his temper. She was right. It would be a shock for Winston to learn his father was alive. No use doing it in the middle of the night. “How about in the morning? I’ll go with you to pick him up at your father’s.”
Lily rubbed her arms, her face panicked. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Mack. Especially considering the trouble between you andmy father.”
“He lied to us both,” Mack said. “He owes us an explanation.”
Lily flinched. “I’m sorry, Mack.”
“Stop apologizing for him,” Mack said. “It’s your father who should be sorry. He never wanted us to be together, and by lying he got his wish.”
“Mack—”
“It’s true and you know it.” Mack inhaled a calming breath, questions bombarding him. “What happened that night,Lily? Where have you and Winston been all these years?” God, was she involved with someone else?
Lily sighed. “The night of the storm, I went into labor. Daddy’s friend flew me to Alabama in his helicopter before the worst hit. I gave birth to Winston that night, and we lived there until a couple of months ago.” She rubbed a hand over her mouth, drawing him to those damned kissable lips.“Meanwhile, Dad was working with Mayor Barrow on the rebuilding campaign, and he convinced me to move back and help.”
Mack gestured to the house. “But you didn’t move in with him?”
Lily smiled sardonically. “No, I wanted to be queen of my own castle.”
Mack nodded. “You always did like having your own space.” And she had stood up to her father. At one time, he’d even wondered ifshe’d dated him as an act of rebellion.
Still, rebelling and helping him get dirt on her father were two different things.
“What time are you going to your father’s house in the morning?”
Lily chewed her bottom lip. “Eight. I want to have breakfast with Winston.”
Eight o’clock sounded like decades away. But he didn’t want to frighten his son by storming in and attacking Landry.
Which was exactly what he might do if he saw him tonight.
“Mack?”
“Breakfast with our son sounds good.” He paused. “And, Lily,
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