“I would never try to claim custody. But look. If you need to make some kind of financial arrangement...”
“What?” Why was this person talking about money? What was he saying? “What do you mean you were with Wendy?”
The guy looked at him like he was dense. “We had an affair,” he said.
Paul shook his head. “You couldn’t have.” Wendy had been committed to him one hundred percent. This guy must be some kind of nut who’d managed to find Paul’s number. Why, Paul couldn’t fathom.
Or maybe he was an ex of Wendy’s, or a delusional coworker. Paul wasn’t sure whether to try to get him to leave or to get his contact information just so he could keep track of him, make sure his hallucination didn’t lead him to do something stupid.
The man talked on, and Paul tuned back in. “Big mistake,” he was saying, “and we both knew that almost right away. We were only together a few times.”
This man, this Andrew, spoke logically, calmly. Not like a deranged person, even though his words were impossible to believe.
“I didn’t want to tell you. What was the point? But after this past weekend, I figured I should.” He paused, seeming to wait for Paul to say something, and then went on, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. “Again, man, I’m not saying I want custody or anything. In fact, I’d like to keep this quiet.”
A sick feeling rose in Paul’s stomach. Was it possible that he was telling the truth?
“When I saw him this weekend, I panicked. Figured I’d better come and talk to you, make sure we were on the same page.”
This weekend... Paul was starting to understand, but he couldn’t find words. Couldn’t figure out how to feel. “Did you say you’re Davey’s biological father?”
Andrew nodded his head yes as he peered through the store window. “Is that him in there? With the skinny gal?”
Paul nodded slowly. He noticed his own breathing had sped up. His heart pounded, too, but it wasn’t like a panic attack. This was something else.
Andrew shoved his hands in his pockets, still looking into the store where Davey sat leaning against Amber. “Wow. Cute.” He shook his head a little. “That’s that author, right? The pretty one.” He shook his head. “I never did understand why Wendy chose her to confide in.”
Once again, the man was saying something that didn’t compute. “What do you mean?”
“I guess Wendy felt guilty. She was the guilty type, you know? She sent me an email right toward the end, telling me she’d let that woman know about the affair and about Davey, but she hadn’t told anyone else.” He frowned. “Wendy thought that author lady could keep it to herself. Guess she was wrong. Women sure do like to gossip.”
Paul reached out a hand and turned the intruder to face him.
Fear rose in the man’s eyes and he lifted his hands and started to back away.
All of a sudden, Paul’s fist connected with the guy’s cheekbone and sent him flying.
He felt like he was dreaming as he watched—what was his name? Paul kept forgetting—scramble to his knees and put a hand to his face.
Paul was going to wake up soon. He’d feel the sun on his face and hear Davey in the next room and realize he’d overslept.
The door of the bookstore opened and Trey came out. “What’s going on here?”
Andrew was getting awkwardly to his feet.
So it wasn’t a dream. “I just got some surprising news.” The voice was coming out of Paul’s mouth, but it seemed to belong to someone else.
Trey and Paul watched as Andrew brushed himself off and hurried down the street, glancing back as if afraid he would be followed.
“Will he press charges?” Trey asked.
Paul shook his head and rubbed his knuckles. They didn’t hurt—adrenaline—but they were red and starting to swell. “Doubt it. The slime.” He looked in through the window at Davey, who’d climbed all the way into Amber’s lap now, looking half-asleep.
The idea that Davey wasn’t his son was impossible to process. Paul’s whole life was centered around protecting Davey, and he felt no diminution of the desire to do that. No way, no way was this jerk Andrew going to have any contact whatsoever with Davey.
Bits and pieces of significance were tapping on his skull now, demanding entry into his brain. Wendy, perfect, angelic Wendy, had had an affair. Was that even possible? Wendy had been so strict with herself in every way. Strict with others, too, but she’d never held them to a higher standard than she had for herself.
But why would this Andrew, the pretentious jerk, have come to him claiming such a thing if it weren’t true?
He was still looking into the store, so he saw how Davey shifted in Amber’s arms, leaning more against her, his eyes closing.
Amber knew. Andrew had said Amber knew.
That wasn’t possible, because Amber would have told him if she knew something that momentous about his family and his life, about Davey. But something must have given Andrew that impression.
Paul didn’t trust himself to walk into the store just now. He didn’t feel like he could be with ordinary people. “Would you mind asking Amber to come out here a minute? I need to talk to her.”
Trey didn’t move toward the store. “Do you have control of yourself?”
Of course, Trey was being protective of his sister-in-law. Rightly so, since Paul had just hit a man. Paul drew in a long, slow breath, relaxed his shoulders and nodded. “I have control. I just want to talk to her out here for a couple of minutes.” He kept his voice steady. He was proud of that. “Maybe Erica or you could hold Davey for a few?”
“Okay, but I’ve got my eye on you.” Trey gave him a warning glare and then walked into the store and tapped Amber on the shoulder, whispered something into her ear.
