“You did all this…in five days?” she asks, turning around to face me as she waves at the obvious changes made to accommodate Wren.
“Yes, some ladies I know stepped in to help decorate the place for Wren and get her everything she needs.”
“I see that,” she says with a nod, taking out a notepad and scribbling something down on it.
“Please, have a seat,” I say, gesturing toward the sofa. “I wasn’t prepared to have you so early. I’ll go get a shirt.”
“I’ll take Wren,” she offers, and I gently pass the baby to her arms before heading to my bedroom to get dressed, trading my sweatpants for a pair of blue jeans and a simple white T-shirt before walking back to the living room.
“Can I offer you something to drink?”
“No, thanks,” she says, letting me take back the baby when I reach out. “Mr. Drayton, you don’t have family, do you?”
“The club—”
“Will not be with you when Wren wakes up in the middle of the night needing to be fed but there are no clean bottles. She needs a stable family where one parent can change her while the other prepares the bottle. What happens when you fall asleepfrom exhaustion in the middle of the night and there’s no one here to take care of her? Becoming a single parent, especially so suddenly as in your case, is incredibly challenging, as I’m sure you’re learning firsthand.”
I grit my teeth, pushing down the urge to argue and defend myself. I’ve been doing a pretty decent job taking care of my daughter. “Wren is well cared for. I—”
“Mr. Drayton, it’s like the judge said, intent is not enough.” She folds her hands over her lap as her expression turns even more serious. “Wren is still small, and chances for adoption are high—”
“No,” I grind out, more harshly than I intended and startling my daughter. Her face scrunches up as if preparing to cry so I get to my feet and start bouncing her softly. I force in deep breaths in an attempt to get my rage under control. It’ll do me no good to show such strong emotion to a woman who is clearly prejudiced against single parenthood. “I’m not giving my daughter up.”
“This is not an attack on your parenting skills, but the judge will have to determine what’s best for the baby, and parenting can be overwhelming for one person.” I don’t like her tone or what her words imply. “I understand you want the best for your daughter, and I think that would be a two-parent household, so you might consider—”
“I’m not alone,” I blurt out, cutting her off.
“Excuse me?”
Fuck. Why did I say that? It’s clear that on paper, I have no family. Raised in foster care with a brother who died a year ago, I am very obviously alone. It’s clear they won’t acknowledge the club as my family and heck, when it comes down to it, they might even use it against me. An MC helping raise a child?
Fuck.
“I have a partner,” I say before my mind can catch up, but I decide to go with it, making it up as I go. “She’s great and loves Wren. Soon, we’ll be married and then you won’t have to worry about Wren being raised by a single parent.”
The caseworker arches a brow as she leans back with a look of disbelief on her face, and can I blame her? “And where is this…partner?”
I panic at the question but try not to show it. “Perhaps during your next visit—”
“I’ve been doing this for twenty years, Mr. Drayton. I can tell a lie when I see it,” she says, climbing to her feet. “While I appreciate the effort, it will be noted in my report that—”
Her words are cut off by a knock on the front door. We both turn to stare at it, and I welcome the distraction as I walk to open it. Standing on the other side is the angel who helped me put my baby to sleep last night, and now she’s about to save us again. She’s carrying her violin, which she raises for me to see.
“Sweetheart,” I say even before she can speak, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against me, careful not to crush Wren in the process. “You’re just in time.”
“Hawk?”
Amelia blushes prettily, clearly flustered by the closeness. I lean down and brush my mouth over hers before moving to kiss the spot under her ear. “Please play along.”
There’s a puzzled look on her face when I pull back, but she doesn’t speak as I nudge her into the apartment. She seems surprised to see the caseworker, but if she has questions, she doesn’t raise them. “Hi,” she says with a shy wave.
“Hello there, and you are?” the caseworker asks, her eyes narrowing on my new fake fiancée.
“Amelia Belton. I’m…” She turns to me for guidance, confusion and a little bit of panic written clearly in her eyes.
“This is my fiancée, Amelia. Sweetheart—” I turn to her with a plea clear in my eyes. “This is the caseworker handling Wren’s case. Kelly Davis.”
“O-oh, right, you told me about her. W-was the visit today?”
