“Is that so?” Damien asked in a stiff voice. He shot a panicked look in the direction of the wedding guests, who were definitely in fallout distance, and nodded down the cobblestone path deeper into the garden. “That’s funny, because I was on my way over to talk to you about something. Do you mind if we take a walk?”
It had been Damien’s intention to save the discussion about Matthew until after the reception was over so the Single Dads could enjoy one last night before he tore their happy little world apart, but Matthew’s presence was an unexpected monkey wrench. If Matthew had already let on that they knew each other, there was no going back. Damien wouldn’t lie to Gwynn about what was going on.
“Damien,” Matthew said in a thin, panicked voice. “I need to speak with you first. Something’s going on.”
“I didn’t know that you two were in close contact,” Gwynn admitted uneasily. He held Damien’s gaze for an agonizing moment, then looked at Matthew. “I still don’t understand what’s going on.”
“I just… I need to talk to him,” Matthew insisted. He looked at his father imploringly. “I’ll explain it all after. Right now the most important thing is that Damien hears what I have to say.”
Gwynn frowned. “What could possibly be so important that you’d need to deliver the message yourself?”
“Nadja texted me.” Matthew spoke to Damien now, no longer looking at his father. Worry dulled his eyes and thinned his lips. “She says your phone’s not working or she would have gotten in touch with you herself. Someone told her that Bankes is talking to Whitcroft about you being out of the office again. She says it’s bad. If you don’t step in and do something, she’s afraid you’re going to be let go.”
In the middle of facing down his personal Predator, a fucking Alien swooped in and turned the worst day of Damien’s life into a crossover event. It took every bit of Damien’s resolve not to snarl. At this point, being taken out by a chestburster would have been a relief.
Fucking Bankes.
What the hell was his problem?
Damien whipped out his phone to check his messages. He had plenty of unread emails, no texts, and full bars. He’d been chatting with the Single Dads not even an hour ago. Why was his LTE network connected and his signal excellent, but his phone unresponsive? It made no sense.
“How do you know any of this?” Gwynn asked, bewildered.
Matthew looked imploringly at Damien. The lost and frightened look in his big sweet eyes begged Damien to take control of the conversation, and take control Damien did.
“We need to have a talk, Gwynn.” Damien kept his voice as level and respectful as possible. “Can we please take a walk, just you and me?”
“I’m sorry,” Matthew mouthed.
Damien knew it, but it didn’t make the situation any easier.
“What do you have to tell me that you can’t say in front of everyone else?” Gwynn asked. A hard edge lined his otherwise patient tone of voice. “I’d like to know what’s going on, and I’d like to know it now.”
“Christ.” Damien ran a nervous hand through his hair. This wasn’t how he’d wanted it to go. He didn’t want the Single Dads to remember him as the bastard who’d knocked up Gwynn’s kidandruined TD’s wedding. “For the record, I was going to wait until after the reception to approach you. I didn’t want to do this now. I care about you and TD too much.”
“Knot,” Gwynn ground through his teeth. “Cut the bullshit. What the hell is going on?”
“You sure you don’t want to walk?”
“Knot!”
“Okay. Okay, I guess we’re going to do this here.” Damien swallowed and looked over his shoulder. Guests were still streaming out of the building. Harley and Evie chatted a few paces away from the doors, Harley positioned so that he could keep an eye on the situation without letting on that he was. No doubt xV and Mal were positioned somewhere close, too, waiting on them so the Dads could leave as a unit. Damien’s plans to minimize fallout hadn’t just flown out the window—they’d been hurled through it by a professional football player with a grudge.
“I’m not going to sugarcoat it.” Damien looked away from Harley, who was damn good at pretending he wasn’t paying attention. “I met Matthew in Fiji not knowing that he was your son. We had chemistry and decided to stay in touch. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you and decided it’d be best to do it in person.”
There was a blank expression on Gwynn’s face. Willful disbelief, most likely. He was too smart not to understand what Damien was saying.
“I’m in love with him, Gwynn.” Damien swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and braced for the friendship meltdown of the decade. “We’re pregnant.”
The blank look in Gwynn’s eyes snapped, and with a wounded bellow, he flung himself at Damien and slammed his fist into his jaw.
29
Damien
A crunch rent the chatter from the garden as Gwynn’s fist collided with Damien’s face. The sound of it echoed in Damien’s head—not his ears—like Gwynn had put so much behind the punch that it had sunk into his brain. The force of the attack sent Damien stumbling back, and he had to take a second to find his footing.
A second was all Gwynn needed to come back for the sequel.
