It wasn't that his night with Lacey hadn't been good. It had been fantastic, and that was the problem. Caught up in the moment, he had been able to convince himself that it was a one-time thing and didn't have to mean much of anything. Only afterward, as the two of them had lain in the dark, had the doubts come creeping back, and in full force.
Lacey was the kind of girl you married, not just messed around with and left behind. He had known that before, but he was even more sure of it now. What's more, she deserved a good man, someone capable of giving her everything she wanted and needed. He had caught her looking at him and trying to make him into that guy—so busy assigning him attributes he didn't have that she couldn't see the truth, that he wasn't the marrying kind. It didn't matter if he was falling for her—which he was—because it wouldn't change the core of who he was. He was too damaged. She just didn't seem to realize it yet.
“Stop it,” he muttered as he climbed out of his truck and slammed the door behind him. “Get your head in the game, man.”
He peered up at the brick facade of the lawyer’s office and tried to ignore the sick feeling settling into the pit of his stomach. He was glad to have scored a meeting with Mr. Holloway, the attorney in question, but that didn’t make him any less terrified of what the man might say. Now that Trevor had gotten it into his head to adopt Jade, he couldn’t think of anything he had ever wanted so badly. Never in his life had he had quite so much to lose.
He took the steps leading up to the office door two at a time, the adrenaline cycling through him in earnest now. The receptionist, a trim redhead who looked to be in her early twenties, scowled at the sound of the bell over the door. When she got a look at him, though, the scowl transformed into a flirtatious smile.
“Oh, hello there, Mr.—”
“McCall,” Trevor said, trying not to sound as anxious as he felt. “Trevor McCall. I’ve got an appointment with Mr. Holloway at two o’clock. I’m a little early, but—”
“Yes, of course,” the girl interrupted, glancing down at her computer screen with a small frown. “I’ve got a note here about some paperwork you were supposed to have sent?”
“That’s right, already done,” Trevor said, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “As far as I know, I’m good to go.”
"Hold on one moment," she smiled again, holding up one finger as she lifted the phone to her ear. She spoke briefly into the receiver, presumably to Mr. Holloway, before hanging up and getting to her feet.
"Mr. Holloway is ready to see you now,” she said in a chipper voice. “If you'll follow me."
Trevor nodded and trailed after the receptionist, trying hard not to overanalyze the situation. Something in the way she'd smiled at him just now made him think he might be walking into a bad situation here.
“Mr. McCall!” Mr. Holloway said in a booming, larger-than-life voice. “I’m glad to see you. Please, step into my office. We need to have a little discussion.”
"Of course, we do," Trevor mumbled to himself. He glanced over his shoulder at the receptionist and nodded his appreciation. She smiled at him in a manner that struck him as decidedly sheepish, and he inwardly cringed.
“Good luck!” she said quickly before turning and scurrying back to her desk.
“Thanks,” he muttered. If the receptionist thought he needed luck on his side, his fears might not be so far off base.
“Come on in, have a seat,” Mr. Holloway repeated, ushering Trevor into his office. “But before we get started, I’d like to make sure we have complete transparency.”
“Oh, brother,” Trevor groaned as he plopped down into one of the leather chairs. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”
"Look, I don't want to upset you, and I'm not in the habit of turning away clients, but I've got to level with you."
“Sure,” Trevor sighed. “That’s exactly what I’d expect you to do.”
“It’s just that the odds aren’t in your favor here,” Mr. Holloway said matter-of-factly, steepling his fingers on the desk. Trevor heard a note of sympathy in the man’s voice and sat forward, his body tensing as if for a fight.
"Not in my favor?" Trevor repeated, holding on to his temper by the thinnest of threads. "She's my cousin, isn't she? Her mother left her on my doorstep. Just took off, and I haven't seen hide nor hair of her since. Somebody's got to look after the girl, don't they? And I don't see anybody else stepping up to the plate."
“I know, you’re right,” Holloway said in a voice so soothing, it was dangerously close to patronizing. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t necessarily change things. Not the way you might think it would. It’s the math, Mr. McCall.”
"Please," Trevor interrupted impatiently. "Call me Trevor, will you? All this formality is making my skin crawl."
“Whatever you say, Trevor,” Mr. Holloway shrugged, giving Trevor a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Good,” Trevor said curtly. “Now we’ve got that settled, do you mind telling me what math’s got to do with Jade?”
“It’s quite simple, really. Only roughly two percent of men in your position—”
“Men in my position?” Trevor challenged. “What does that mean?”
Mr. Holloway continued, apparently unperturbed. “You’re a single man, hardly thirty years old. You have almost no experience with children in general, let alone raising one. You work long, unpredictable hours in a job that has the distinct possibility of taking you away with little to no warning.”
“Right, but—” Trevor started, gripping the arms of his chair tightly to make himself stay seated.
"And even if none of that last part was true," Holloway continued as if Trevor hadn't spoken at all. "The fact remains that only two percent of single men are successfully granted adoption in this country. The odds are nowhere near being in your favor. That number is starting to trend upward, but in most cases, women are still seen as the more nurturing caregivers. I'm sorry to say that even if we could convince a judge to rule that her mother has abandoned her, your chances of adopting Jade as a single young man aren't wonderful."
“Right. Okay. Thanks, I guess. Thank you for your time.” Trevor stood up quickly enough that he first off-balanced and then almost knocked over his chair.
Mr. Holloway stood as well and extended a hand. Trevor shook it, but it took an enormous amount of energy to do so. Before Holloway could start talking again, Trevor turned on his heel and walked out of the room. He managed to keep his temper in check until he was safely locked in his truck, upon which he let out a string of expletives bad enough to have made a sailor blush.
“Stupid,” he hissed at himself once he’d run out of swear words to say. “How could you let yourself be so stupid?”
Because he had been just that; he could see that now as plain as the nose on his face. What a fool he had been to think he could change the course that history had chosen for his life. This was the same story he'd been living since day one, or at least since he’d found out about the adoption that his parents were so keen on keeping secret.