Considering the life I led, the slight demand in his otherwise calm voice should’ve gotten my back up. But that’s not what happened. Instead, my belly flipped as butterflies danced behind my navel, sending my already pounding heart into a sudden frenzy.
Without thinking twice, I moved.
Closing the space between us, I knelt between his spread knees, placing my sweaty palms atop his jean-clad thighs. “Something is wrong,” I said, stating the obvious. “Tell me what it is. Did something happen to Hendrix? Maddie? Are they—”
“My son is fine. Maddie too.” My shoulders slumped in relief, but not for long. “It’s my daughter that is breaking my heart.”
And just like that, I froze.
There was still so much I didn’t know about him.
But I had plenty of time to learn everything.
A lifetime by his side should do it.
“Your daughter? You have…” Throat tightening, I swallowed, fighting for control of my shaky voice. “A daughter?”
The pain on his face multiplied. “Yeah, beautiful, I do. Her name is Shelby, and she’s a year and a half younger than Hendrix.”
My eyes widened in shock. “Is she okay?”
I hoped nothing bad had happened.
If it had, I didn’t know how I’d help him. All children were special, but little girls were angels in their father’s eyes. If she was hurt or sick, it would destroy the man before me.
It was a worry I felt bone-deep.
“She’s fine.” I blew out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Problem is, she doesn’t know I’m her dad. I’ve been planning on telling her, have even thought about how to do it a million times since I found her months ago, but I haven’t said a word.”
I didn’t understand. “Why?”
“Because as soon as she learns the truth, I’m afraid she’ll bolt and that I’ll never see her or my grandson again.”
Grandson? Dios mío!
Mouth gaping, I stared at him, waiting for him to explain further. When he didn’t, I took action. “Listen, Guapo, my brain isn’t firing on all cylinders since I’m still technically detoxing; therefore, I need you to explain a few things.”
The look on his face gave away nothing.
Meanwhile, my mind was scrambling.
“Why doesn’t she know you’re her dad?”
“Because my ex,” he hissed, jaw clenching, “took off when Hendrix was a little over a year old. Left him alone in his bed while I was on a twenty-four-hour training shift at the Fire Academy and hit the road. Didn’t even bother to tell me she was leaving.”
I had no words.
None.
“It was nighttime when I came home and found him standing in his crib, his chubby little hands wrapped around the wooden slats, face all flushed and puffy. I don’t know how long he’d been there, all by himself in the dark, but his diaper hadn’t been changed in hours, and he’d vomited more than once from crying so hard.”
Like an atomic bomb, my explosive temper detonated. I was surprised it didn’t level every surrounding tree while simultaneously waking any dead bodies that may have been buried close by.
“That fucking perra!” Jumping up, I slammed my fisted hands down onto my hips. Fingers digging into my flesh to the point of pain, my chest heaved. “How could she?”
Before James could even attempt to answer me, I continued, my raised voice carrying through the quiet night air with ease. “What kind of madre leaves her child, especially an innocent bebé to fend for himself? What if the house had caught fire? Or Jesucristo, what if he’d choked on something?”
Pacing back and forth, my head pounded as the information swept throughout my body, overloading my senses. “Tell me you found her,” I shrieked, vision blurred from the tears that filled my eyes. “Tell me you found her, James, and that you—”
“I never saw her again.”
“What?” I stopped pacing and looked down at him, more confused than I had been minutes before. “Then how… I mean, what about your daughter?”
“I didn’t know my ex was pregnant when she left.” That made sense. Kind of. “If I had, I would’ve hunted her down.”
Suspicion nipped at my spine. “You would’ve?”
Another chin dip. “Yeah, sweetheart, I would’ve. Believe it or not, I wasn’t always a piece of shit.”
Instant regret. That’s what I felt. “I didn’t—”
“Your mouth may not have said it,” he interrupted, shoulders slumping, “but your eyes did.”
I bit my lower lip. “Tell me about it.”
The frown he wore deepened. “About what?”
Forcing a shaky smile that showcased just how off-kilter I felt, I made my way back to him and once again knelt between his spread knees. “About the precioso moments before things turned bad.”
Pulling his eyes from mine, he looked behind me, staring off into the distance. I wasn’t sure he was ready to open the can of worms I’d just asked him to, but he did it anyway.
“I was eighteen when Hendrix was born,” he said, taking both of my hands in his. “I didn’t know a damned thing about being a father. Nothing except that I wanted to be the exact opposite of the man who’d had a hand in raising me.”
I filed that information away.
Later…
I’ll ask him later.
“I caught on quickly, though. Hendrix never cried much. Only when he was tired or hungry.” A small smile, the first I’d seen since approaching him minutes before, appeared. “But from the very first night we brought him home, he refused to sleep in his crib.”
My throat bobbed as thoughts of Alejandro, followed by images of his smiling face flashed before my eyes. He’d refused to rest in his crib as well.
The only place he’d sleep was with me.
In my bed.
It was something that never changed.
“So I did what I had to and let him sleep on my chest every night for the first nine months,” he continued, softness lining his features. “After that, he’d fall asleep anywhere, but it didn’t matter if he was in his crib
