His home life had been shit until the Admiral rescued them, becoming their foster father and invoking his kind of tough love.
Thoughts of his childhood did nothing to soothe his anger. How could Carolyn, who knew about his past, think he wouldn’t want to be part of his son’s life? God, he was pissed, but he drove on in a silence she didn’t attempt to break either.
“The white house with green trim,” she said softly when they’d turned onto her street. “You can pull into the garage.” She hit a button on the visor.
He waited while the garage door rose. It gave him time to study the house. It was exactly what he always pictured on this street. Long, narrow windows faced onto a wraparound front porch. The front door and trim were painted the green of spring grass. The small front yard was full of summer flowers in pink and white. An idyllic family home and one she had not wanted him to be part of.
He parked in the garage. Without a word, she got out and lifted Austin from his seat. When she went to shoulder a bag loaded down with kid stuff, he took it from her and followed her into the house. She might not want him there, but he wasn’t leaving until he got an explanation. They entered the kitchen, which was cheerful, with white cabinets and yellow trim. Carolyn always did love bright colors in her clothes and surroundings.
“I need to take care of Austin,” she said. The boy was sleepily looking around the kitchen. “The paramedic suggested keeping his routine in place so he doesn’t dwell on what happened.”
“I’ll wait.” Had she hoped he’d leave? Not likely, with what was at stake between them. He was glad he hadn’t known the child being held hostage was his. It had been bad enough waiting helplessly outside knowing Carolyn’s life was being threatened.
“He needs to eat and have a bath before bed,” she explained. “You can go in the living room. It’s through there.” She pointed. “I’m not rushing on your account.”
Maybe she didn’t realize how much of his time as a sharpshooter was spent waiting. He had patience, and the environment in her home was much nicer than what he was used to when watching a target.
“I’ll check around outside first.” The robbery at the store was probably random, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. “Are the doors and windows locked?”
“Should be,” she answered and reached in a cabinet for a bowl, turning her back on him.
Being with her in her home was surreal. Before she ended their engagement, they’d shared an apartment—shared everything, he’d thought. Except what she’d been feeling. She’d kept that hidden until the end…or maybe he’d just missed the signs of her unhappiness.
With another look at Austin, now sitting in a high chair and gobbling Goldfish, Zach slipped outside to walk the perimeter of the fenced yard. He wished he knew what to say to his son, but he had no clue how to begin interacting with him.
So he did what he was trained to do. He checked a rear gate before circling to the front, automatically evaluating the home’s weak points. Where could an assailant easily enter? The house was well built, but it had too many windows exposing it to risks.
When he was done, he returned inside and went to the living room. Overhead, he could hear splashing and voices. How many bath times had he missed—had she denied him? He’d been out of the country for months, until after the boy’s birth, but he could have been there before tonight. Could have seen a picture of Austin at least.
He prowled the room. Framed photographs were on the mantel and bookshelves. Most were of Austin. None were of him and Carolyn. Had she planned to conceal from the boy who his father was? Looked like it from the pictures. But they proved the boy’s heritage beyond a shadow of a doubt. With his blue eyes and dark hair, Austin looked just like Zach and his brothers had at that age. He recalled a faded snapshot he’d taken with him to the Admiral’s house that showed the three of them as little kids seated under a spindly Christmas tree. Austin would have fit right in.
Upstairs, footsteps moved into a back room, probably Austin’s bedroom. Zach should know that, know where his son slept at night, but she hadn’t let him. By the time Carolyn came down the stairs, his anger simmered just below the surface.
She’d changed into snug-fitting jeans and a flowy purple top. He couldn’t help noticing that her curvy figure was enhanced by having had a baby. Somehow, his attraction to her irritated him even further.
“Is he mine?” he asked before she could say anything.
Her eyes flashed. “I think you know the answer.”
“So he is.” He’d known it since he saw Austin at the jewelry store, but it still hit him hard, and the dam inside him broke. Words poured out, but he didn’t shout. “God, Carolyn, did you hate me so much that you didn’t want to tell me? What were you going to do, pretend he didn’t have a father? Erase me from his life?”
“I never hated you,” she hissed, then glanced up the stairs as if she was afraid Austin might have heard.
“You did,” he countered.
“I hated what you did. I hated that you were gone so much.” She spoke quietly but vehemently. “I never hated you. Even when I should have.”
“If that’s true, you would have told me about him.” He scrubbed his hand over his face in frustration. “Come on, Carolyn, you’re one of the few people in the world who knows the truth about my parents. Do you think I wouldn’t want to be here for my own kid after what I went through? After what you went through?” He and Carolyn had both been abandoned by a parent. They had that very sorry fact in common.
She flinched at his words, but her chin was up, and she pressed her lips together, making her dimples pop out. “Use your common sense, Zach. Would I let a child feel abandoned by either parent? I can’t believe you’d think that of me.”
“Then why didn’t I know about him?” He was struggling to understand the situation and getting nowhere.
“Are you really going to claim that none of my messages reached you? Really?” she shot at him as she dropped onto the couch’s center cushion.
He took a breath, trying to get his raging emotions under control. She’d had an awful day, too. He should be more sympathetic since she’d been held hostage just hours earlier. From what he understood from the cops on the scene, Carolyn had saved the day, catching the criminal and probably saving lives. She’d always been smart and tough, qualities he’d loved about her. He sat on a wing chair facing her and tried to control his tone. “What messages?”
“The twenty I sent,” she stated, the pitch of her voice rising. “I wrote letters, I called and texted, and when I got no response, I went through naval channels to contact you. I never heard a word in reply. Nothing even acknowledging that you knew I was pregnant.”
The months when she would have been pregnant, he was on a black ops mission with his unit. No message could have gotten through. “And after he was born?”
“I tried to contact you again to let you know he was healthy. After that, I gave up.” She looked frustrated and defeated.
“When’s his birthday?” He had a son whose birth and first birthday he’d missed.
“June fourth. He was born at three in the morning, if you want to know.”