say? ‘Oh, I have a son, how nice’ and walk away?"
She glared up at him, mascara running down her cheeks, wet hair plastered against her head. “Don't you mean ‘walk away again'? I was hoping."
Ignoring that last crack, he led her back toward the truck. “I want to meet him. Right now. Come on, let's go."
She dug in her heels. “Y-You can't!"
It was Mike's turn to glare. He picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the truck. When they were both seated inside, he handed her a stack of fast food napkins and said, “Don't think for one minute I'm going to let you, or anybody else, keep me away from my own son. I've already missed the first seven years of his life. I don't plan on missing out on another second."
"It's not that. If I'd wanted to keep you from him, I wouldn't have told you about him in the first place.” She dabbed at her eyes.
"Then why are you hiding him from me? Because he wasn't at the dinner table tonight.” Mike finger-combed his wet hair and wiped his face with the hem of his T-shirt, for all the good it did. He started the truck back up and cranked the heat full blast.
"He doesn't know anything about this. My God, I just found out this morning what Rachel and Jimmy did to us."
"Well, where the hell does he think I've been all this time? I mean, he must have asked about me at some point."
Sara's face crumbled.
Mike muttered a curse. He stared out the windshield for a moment while he regained his composure. Oddly enough, the ferocity of the storm soothed him. “Sweetheart, I know it must've been hell on you raising our son all these years without my help. But that's over now. I'm here for you, and I'm here for him. I realize it'll take some time for us to get to know each other again, and for ... my God, I can't believe I forgot to ask you his name. What is our son's name?"
Sara went pale; a chill racked her body. Her nipples strained against the filmy material of her halter top, and he cursed silently as his body reacted. He reached behind his seat for the flannel shirt he kept there.
"Here, snuggle under this.” He draped it over her, then adjusted the heat vents so they blew in her direction. The temperature had been in the mid-seventies when they'd left her house, but had dropped a good fifteen degrees when the storm blew in.
"Thanks,” she mumbled holding the shirt up to her neck.
"Sara, what's his name?"
She seemed reluctant to meet his gaze. “Ethan."
Mike froze. “Ethan? As in ‘the love of your life’ Ethan?"
Her expression grew fierce. “He is the love of my life."
"Dammit, Sara, you knew exactly what I thought when you told me—” Suddenly, the truth dawned on him. His heart hammered against his rib cage. “Christ, you wouldn't have told me,” he said in a near whisper. “You would've let me leave town without knowing I have a son.” When she didn't respond, he growled, “Am I right?"
"Yes!” she cried, her face crumbling again. “I couldn't take the chance that ... that you'd..."
When she looked away, his eyes widened in horror. “My God, you were afraid I'd ... hurt my own son?” His stomach wrenched at the thought. She'd actually believed him capable of such a thing? Knowing what an abusive monster his own father had been?
She dabbed at her eyes with the wet lump of napkins. “I didn't want to. But after the way you attacked Jimmy ... I'd never seen you hit anyone before."
"He deserved it."
"Maybe so, but I didn't know that until today. And Rachel said you'd ... my God, Mike, her face was bruised and she had a black eye. I didn't want to believe her, but the fact that I never saw or heard from you again only supported her story."
What the hell could he say to that? She was right. If he'd gone home and slept on it, instead of taking off like a damn coward, none of this would've happened. They would've talked, compared notes and confronted those two lowlifes. He'd have been holding Sara's hand when she found out she was pregnant, and
She glared up at him, mascara running down her cheeks, wet hair plastered against her head. “Don't you mean ‘walk away again'? I was hoping."
Ignoring that last crack, he led her back toward the truck. “I want to meet him. Right now. Come on, let's go."
She dug in her heels. “Y-You can't!"
It was Mike's turn to glare. He picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the truck. When they were both seated inside, he handed her a stack of fast food napkins and said, “Don't think for one minute I'm going to let you, or anybody else, keep me away from my own son. I've already missed the first seven years of his life. I don't plan on missing out on another second."
"It's not that. If I'd wanted to keep you from him, I wouldn't have told you about him in the first place.” She dabbed at her eyes.
"Then why are you hiding him from me? Because he wasn't at the dinner table tonight.” Mike finger-combed his wet hair and wiped his face with the hem of his T-shirt, for all the good it did. He started the truck back up and cranked the heat full blast.
"He doesn't know anything about this. My God, I just found out this morning what Rachel and Jimmy did to us."
"Well, where the hell does he think I've been all this time? I mean, he must have asked about me at some point."
Sara's face crumbled.
Mike muttered a curse. He stared out the windshield for a moment while he regained his composure. Oddly enough, the ferocity of the storm soothed him. “Sweetheart, I know it must've been hell on you raising our son all these years without my help. But that's over now. I'm here for you, and I'm here for him. I realize it'll take some time for us to get to know each other again, and for ... my God, I can't believe I forgot to ask you his name. What is our son's name?"
Sara went pale; a chill racked her body. Her nipples strained against the filmy material of her halter top, and he cursed silently as his body reacted. He reached behind his seat for the flannel shirt he kept there.
"Here, snuggle under this.” He draped it over her, then adjusted the heat vents so they blew in her direction. The temperature had been in the mid-seventies when they'd left her house, but had dropped a good fifteen degrees when the storm blew in.
"Thanks,” she mumbled holding the shirt up to her neck.
"Sara, what's his name?"
She seemed reluctant to meet his gaze. “Ethan."
Mike froze. “Ethan? As in ‘the love of your life’ Ethan?"
Her expression grew fierce. “He is the love of my life."
"Dammit, Sara, you knew exactly what I thought when you told me—” Suddenly, the truth dawned on him. His heart hammered against his rib cage. “Christ, you wouldn't have told me,” he said in a near whisper. “You would've let me leave town without knowing I have a son.” When she didn't respond, he growled, “Am I right?"
"Yes!” she cried, her face crumbling again. “I couldn't take the chance that ... that you'd..."
When she looked away, his eyes widened in horror. “My God, you were afraid I'd ... hurt my own son?” His stomach wrenched at the thought. She'd actually believed him capable of such a thing? Knowing what an abusive monster his own father had been?
She dabbed at her eyes with the wet lump of napkins. “I didn't want to. But after the way you attacked Jimmy ... I'd never seen you hit anyone before."
"He deserved it."
"Maybe so, but I didn't know that until today. And Rachel said you'd ... my God, Mike, her face was bruised and she had a black eye. I didn't want to believe her, but the fact that I never saw or heard from you again only supported her story."
What the hell could he say to that? She was right. If he'd gone home and slept on it, instead of taking off like a damn coward, none of this would've happened. They would've talked, compared notes and confronted those two lowlifes. He'd have been holding Sara's hand when she found out she was pregnant, and
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