Page 45 of Who’s Your Daddy (Dadcoms #1)

Cal

B ollocks. This is bad. So very bad. If I thought earlier I was having a breakdown, it had nothing on this.

I tug at my hair as I pace my bedroom, my heart pounding a feverish rhythm in my chest. I knew I was falling for Lola.

These feelings have grown deeper by the day.

But tonight? Watching the way she tended to Murphy, how she included him in conversation with her parents?

It blew me away. Every part of tonight felt so damn natural.

So damn right. Like we’re already family. It’s all too damn much.

She comforts him when he needs it, makes him laugh when that expression of his gets too serious. Hell, he seeks her out night after night, unafraid to ask her to read to him and tuck him in.

As devastated as I am that I’ve missed so much of his life already, the way he gravitates toward her doesn’t upset me in the least. I’ll give him whatever makes him happy if it’s in my power.

And I understand why she’s what lights him up.

I just— fuck , what if her feelings for me don’t match this intensity?

I’m falling in love with this woman. Scratch that. I’m already there. My heart is hers. I’m a pile of mush. Splat on the pavement outside this Jersey flat, desperate for her to reach down and help me up but terrified that she’ll walk right on past, eager to get back to New York City.

All I know for certain is that she hasn’t fallen with me. And I can’t blame her. The sex may be bloody out of this world, but outside that, all I do is make more work for her.

Okay, I make her smile too. I suppose I’ve got that working in my favor, but it doesn’t even come close to comparing to the way she makes me feel.

For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m actually living.

My heart beats out a steady rhythm when she’s around and when she’s not, this is what happens.

I pace, pulling at my hair, my pulse erratic and my mind spinning out.

Because any second now, she’ll wise up and drop me like the lousy sack of potatoes I am.

“Cal?”

Jumping a foot off the ground, I let out an embarrassingly high-pitched shriek and whip around, arms flailing.

Lola’s eyes are wide, her teeth sunk into her lip, like she’s holding back a laugh.

I suck in a breath. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”

Her lips twitch, and as she steps into the room, she breaks into a full-fledged smile. “The bejesus, huh?”

Chest heaving and breaths still coming too fast, I yank her to me and press my forehead to hers. “Yes.”

“You seemed very deep in thought so I didn’t want to interrupt.”

I close my eyes and breathe her in. “How long have you been standing there?”

Pulling back, she smiles up at me, her eyes mischievous. “Long enough to hear you say you’re splat on the sidewalk.”

Cringing, I release her and tug at my hair again. “What else did I say?”

She shrugs, but by the way her eyes dance, she definitely heard more. “Couldn’t make out anything else.”

I grunt. “How was Murphy? He asleep?”

With a nod, she grasps my hand and guides me toward the bed. The fucking single bed. How could this perfect creature love a man who lives in a shithole flat with his brother and his best friend, sleeps in a twin-size bed, and has no idea how to raise a child?

I settle onto the edge of the mattress beside her. I’d follow her anywhere.

“Thanks for today,” she says softly, taking my hand in hers.

I study her, heart in my damn throat, and croak, “It was nothing.”

“That couldn't be farther from the truth. You have no idea how badly the day would have gone if you hadn’t sent them on that ghost tour. Dinner with them was bad enough.”

Head bowed, I squeeze her hand. “They’re just vibrant people.”

“Who talk over me and refuse to even try to understand that maybe I enjoy hard work and learning. Everything’s fun and games to them.”

A pit opens up in my gut. “Just like me.”

Straightening, she scoffs. “Not even close.”

“Yes, they are. This is exactly what you always disliked about me.”

“No.” She gives her head a violent shake, though the movement slows quickly.

Then, with her eyes shut, she nods once.

“Okay, yes.” She sighs. “But only because I never allowed myself to see the other parts of you. You were charming and far too gorgeous for my well-being. I chose to focus on the qualities that maybe reminded me of my parents so I could push you far, far away.”

I’m like putty in her hands. A melted puddle out on that sidewalk once again.

Does this mean she’s now looking for the good? A bloke like me can only hope.

With a hand to my cheek, she says, “But over the last few months, I’ve seen you. The real you. The kind, generous, funny, intelligent man behind that cheeky smile.”

She ducks, her cheeks going pink.

“What you did today is the perfect example of just how incredible you are. You understood immediately that I wanted to work, that I had responsibilities that couldn’t be ignored, and you made it all better in your own unique way. They never would have recognized that.”

She shifts so she’s looking at me, her knee bumping mine. “That’s why Brian asks you to help with so many cases. You know that?”

I shake my head, ready to argue.

Before I can, she squeezes my thigh, shutting me up.

“He does it because you’re good, Cal. Better than he is at handling certain things.

You have a way with people. You see an emergency, you notice the way a person is melting down, and you don’t hesitate to lighten their load with a joke or a smile, you don’t belittle their feelings or reaction. You make the situation manageable.”

Maybe it’s the way she sees me, or the way she always seems to know just what to say. Or maybe it’s just that she’s her. Lola. My Lola. I don’t know much, but right now, staring at this woman, and listening to her once again put me back together, I know without a doubt that I love her.

I’m in love her.

The words almost slip out, too. I’m desperate to tell her.

But maybe she’s right. I can see that the admission wouldn’t lighten her load. It wouldn’t make anything more manageable. So I don’t.

“Thank you, Lola, you’re that for me, too.” I press my lips to the top of her head. “You make everything better.”

She blows out a breath, her expression going from soft to pensive. “Can I ask you something that you may not want to talk about?”

My gut twists, but I reply, “Anything.”

“Have you heard from Brandy?”

I blink as the words register. That isn’t at all what I expected her to bring up. “Murphy’s mother?”

She nods.

With a shake of my head, I lean to one side and slide my phone from my pocket.

“I’ve called the number he used the night he tried to contact her a couple of times, but I haven’t gotten a response.

” I open the text thread I started the first day of school.

I send pictures and updates every couple of days, but she’s yet to reply.

“I keep reaching out in the event she is receiving them. Or for when she’s back so she can look through. ”

Lola takes the phone and scrolls, roving over line after line.

“I don’t know why she kept him from me or how the bloody hell she could leave him like that, but I’d give anything to have this kind of stuff from the years I missed.” I shrug and let out a sigh. “So I give her as much information as I can.”

Lola blinks and a single tear lands on the screen. Then another. When she looks up at me her green eyes are glassy, her lips wobbly. “Cal, that’s really sweet. And so much more than she deserves.”

“You’re probably right. But he deserves the best things life has to give. And if he wants a relationship with her, I’ll never stand in the way of that.”

That thought has been swirling in my head since the day I met Judge Espadrilles in her chamber while Brian tracked down his client last month. Neither parent put that kid’s best interest above their own, and I’ll be damned if I ever make that mistake.

With a sigh, I angle forward, forearms resting on my knees and fingers laced.

“Living with my mum in London meant only spending a week with my father every Christmas and two weeks in the summer. For years, I was certain it was because my father didn’t want us.

That he cared about the firm more than his sons.

That he preferred the arrangement the way it was. ”

Lola shakes her head. “I can’t tell you how many times he told me how badly he regrets not fighting harder to have you here.”

I nod, swallowing past the lump that’s formed in my throat.

“Their divorce was brutal. My mother hated him because he cheated, and I can’t blame her one bit for that.

My father wasn’t a good husband, there’s no denying that, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t deserve the opportunity to be a good father. ”

Lola rests her head on my shoulder. “Divorce is never easy. No one is always right.”

I smile down at my feet. “Except for you. ”

Chuckling, she pushes off my shoulder. “Right. Of course.”

With a long breath out, I straighten again. “As soon as I could, I moved to America for University. Not because Idon’t love my mum, but because I finally realized that my father wanted to have a relationship with me. She’d been the one putting up roadblocks.

He screwed up plenty, sure, but for most of my childhood, she had us convinced that he cared little for us. She allowed us to believe that the issue was that he refused to move to the UK to be with us.”

I rub my hands down the fabric of my trousers. “In reality, she insisted on taking us to the UK after the divorce.” I eye Lola. “Sully and I were born here. Did you know that? When we left, our father truly thought that it would be best for us if we stayed with her. But he never stopped caring.”

Lola sets the phone down on the bed and squeezes my hand. “Of course he didn’t.”

Thumb gliding over her smooth skin, I focus on our joined hands. “He was right to set up the trust.”

She sucks in a shocked breath, stiffening beside me.