I grimaced because, well... probably. It wasn’t like I kept count or anything, but the odds weren’t in my favor.
“Has there been that many that you can’t remember?” Maeve deadpanned.
My ability to speak suddenly returned because I croaked out, “No. The last time was about a year ago, and before then...” My voice trailed off as a dark, heavy feeling sliced through me.
It was back when I was wasted one Saturday night at the Shamrock, around the time Callum said I was on leave. I got talking to a girl who was passing through, and later, we went back to her hotel in Mapletree for an exclusive after-party consisting of me, her, and a bottle of tequila.
My back jerked up straight, and I felt all the color drain from my face.
Jesus, no.
“This is just great!” Cal drawled, his tone pissy as all hell.
“Callum!” Maeve scolded.
“We should be on our honeymoon,” he bit out. “We’ve postponed it for this bullshit.”
“Donovan dropped everything for us when we thought it wasyourbaby,” she pointed out. “The least we can do is be here for him. Ireland will still be there in a few days. Now stop being a grouch; your brother needs you.”
“My brother needs a goddamned miracle ‘cause if he’s the dad, his life’s about to change drastically,” he muttered.
“Thanks for your positive input,” I told him sarcastically, turning back to Tia, who was watching our bickering with a small smile on her face.
“When can I meet Imogen?” I asked.
“The paternity results take about five days, unless you want to pay to expedite them?” she explained.
I nodded slowly, “We’ll do that, but is there any way of getting more information, even about Charlene?”
Tia stared at me briefly, then she said, “I need to organize the blood tests. I’ll be back in five minutes. In the meantime, I’ll just leave this file here.” She gave me a long, meaningful look and placed the file down, open. Then she stood and left the room without a word.
“Quick,” Callum hissed, nodding toward the desk. “Before she comes back.”
I dived for it and immediately saw a large photograph lying on top of the papers of a pretty, smiling blonde woman. I picked it up and studied it, my heart pounding. Yeah, it definitely struck a chord. My recollections were fuzzy, but I remembered her.
“She called herself Charlie,” I murmured. “She was sweet and a bit ditzy. I swear, I was over all the fucking around—I had been for a while—but we’d both had too much to drink, and Igot to talking about Dad, who was really sick at the time. She comforted me, and one thing led to another.”
Maeve stood up and walked over to me. “It’s understandable.”
“I didn’t even get her number. I gave her a hug goodbye and left.” I scraped a hand through my hair. “Why didn’t she call me? She knew how to get in touch. Why didn’t she tell me?”
Maeve picked up the picture to look more closely, and I froze, because underneath was another large photograph, but that one was of a baby.
My eyes settled on it, and a lump hit my throat. “Jesus,” I croaked. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Maeve’s forehead pulled together at my reaction, and her gaze fell to the image. “Mary, mother of Jesus,” she whispered. “That’s the prettiest child I’ve ever seen.”
Heart in mouth, I picked up the photograph and stared at it, lost for words.
Maeve was right; the babywasbeautiful. She stared at the camera with a small smile on her pink rosebud lips. Her skin was smooth and pale like porcelain, and her blonde curly hair was encased in a pink headband, but what struck me to the core of my being were her eyes. They were bright blue and edged in long, dark lashes.
Identical to mine.
“She really has got your eyes,” Maeve whispered, awestruck as she gazed down at the image. Her eyes suddenly lifted and filled with tears. “Your nose, too.”
I slowly traced the lines of my daughter's face with my finger, completely mesmerized by her little face. My heart melted inside my chest at the thought of having such beauty in my life. I’d never had anyone or anything that was just mine because I never thought I was good enough to love.
I mean, was I even cut out to be a dad?
