“Calm down, princess, this is a friendly visit.”
“Do not come any closer.”
A nasty laugh hit me. “What are you going to do? Throw that pillow at me?”
He was right. I’d never make it inside before he grabbed me, so I did the best job possible of putting up a calm front. “Yeah, I thought that would be a great distraction.”
“You know something, English? You always thought you were funnier than you actually are.”
“Nice to know. I won’t give up my day job and join the comedy troupe then.”
“Good idea. So about Easton. I want to run a DNA test.”
“Why?” This was what I’d dreaded.
“Don’t play stupid.”
“You already know you’re the father. I’m not playing stupid.”
“To please the courts when I go for custody.”
“Ah, I see. You had no interest in her until now, so why is it you want custody?”
He flashed me a smile, one that used to disarm me. It didn’t work anymore, but it did shoot pinpricks of fear over my flesh. “Let’s just say that’s for me to know and for you to find out… in court.”
“The next time we go to court won’t be for custody. It’ll be for assault.”
I looked up to see Dad’s big SUV pull into the driveway and screech to a stop. He jumped out and stalked over to where Stuart stood. My dad towered over him. Stuart was only about five eleven while my dad definitely had the height advantage. He got right into Stuart’s face and said, “You’ve violated the order of protection against you. It didn’t take long for you to break the law again. Why am I not surprised?”
Before Stuart could form an answer, the sound of blaring sirens got louder. He scowled. “For fuck’s sake, English. You couldn’t even have a single conversation with me without calling the police? You’re such a cunt.”
Dad growled, “Don’t you ever call my daughter that again.”
I didn’t bother responding. Two police cars pulled up in front of the house as the cops got out of the car. One of them called out, “Mr. McLure, back away from the porch. You are in violation of the order of protection and therefore you’re under arrest.”
Stuart’s eyes shone with hatred. “You’ll regret this.”
They read him his rights and took him away. My attorney called, thanks to my dad. Clayton assured me I had nothing to worry about. Easy for him to say. He didn’t have a deranged family after him.
After the police drove off, we debated how this could work to our advantage. I still worried about the DNA test.
Dad voiced my own concerns. “You think the DNA test will cause problems?”
“Clayton said if he’s in jail, he can’t get custody anyway,” I explained.
“True, but what about his parents?”
“The courts may consider supervised visitation but they won’t give custody to them, according to Clayton. As long as Easton has a surviving parent, there is no way they can. What would really be of benefit is if she had an adoptive father,” I said.
Dad asked, “What do you mean?”
“Let me spell it out. If I was married and if my husband adopted Easton, it would make it difficult for anyone to step in and get custody, especially since I never named anyone on the birth certificate.”
Dad smiled, I mean he beamed. He had something up his sleeve, which I was sure spelled trouble.
I asked, “Dad, what’s up with you?”
He sat next to me and put his arm around me. “Remember the story about your mother and me?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“I was thinking that maybe you could find someone—”
I leapt to my feet and flung out my hand. “Nope. Stop right there. One, you lucked out with Mom. She was my teacher so there was that connection. I have no one.”
“Um, I beg to differ.” His satisfied grin made me nervous.
“What do you mean?”
“You have Tristian.”
“What the hell, Dad? I do not have Tristian.”
“English, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He has more than a passing interest.”
“So what if he does? It doesn’t mean he wants to marry me and adopt a kid in the process. Besides, I’d never do that to Easton.”
A vein in his neck pulsed as anger darkened his features. “Do what to Easton? Protect her from that monster? Save her from having to go to that asshole’s home? You yourself said you’d do anything to prevent that.”
“Not that! That’s ludicrous.”
He took a deep breath and paralleled his hands. “Just hear me out. You can offer him the same thing I did your mother.”
“Oh? And what’s that? The lottery?”
Dad laughed.
This was the furthest thing from being funny. How dare he? “Stop it or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Punch me?”
“Yes! I will.”
“English, calm down for a minute. Think about it. Tristian is a good man. You might not even be standing here without him.”
Jesus, when he put it like that, I shuddered. I went to the kitchen.
“Where are you going?”
“I need some lavender tea,” I said. “You’re stressing me out.” He followed me and asked for a cup too. “Only if you behave.”
“You sound exactly like your mother.”
“She raised me right.”
“And I didn’t help?”
He looked indignant but also slightly pitiful, so I said, “Of course you did. You’re my hero, except when you come up with these outlandish ideas.”
He hugged me to his broad chest. “It’s not outlandish. It worked beautifully for your mother and me. Just listen. You two are both bright and everyone needs some spark in a relationship. I see that in you two. Easton hasn’t scared him off either.”
Dad was right about that. Tristian still wanted to take me to dinner, even after Easton’s interrogation. But dinner was one thing. Marriage? Another.
“I’d have a better chance of flying to the moon than of Tristian marrying me.”
“What makes you say that?” Dad asked, watching me pour the cups of tea.
“Just a feeling I get. He’s not the marrying kind, and to be honest, I’m not sure I am.”
“Fine. You don’t have to be. It can be a temporary thing until Easton is twelve. That’s the age the court allows the child to decide which parent she wants to live with.”
Then I tossed him the biggest obstacle of all. “And what if we go through with this farce, and end up divorcing? Say Tristian does the adoption thing and ends up mighty close to Easton. What happens then if he wants partial custody of her?”
Dad aimed his finger at me. “Dammit, English, you have an answer for everything.”
“Damn right I do when it comes to my child.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Tristian
That harebrained scheme of Stanton’s imbedded itself into my brain. It was all I thought about for the next week.
Beck informed me of Stuart’s arrest. The fool had broken the order of protection by going to English’s. Good thing he’d been arrested. I shuddered when I thought of what could’ve happened to her. That asshole was stupidly persistent.