Cleaning up his forty-six-year old past, with one major screwup, was complicated.
Over the years, he had always kept that phone call from Caroline and the possibility of having a daughter in the back of his mind. He hadn’t actually believed he was the father of her child, and he hadn’t wanted to be trapped into something like that when his baseball career had just started to go places. He’d had phone calls like Caroline’s before, so hers had been no different.
But Caroline Taylor had been different….
Not that he’d thought about that phone call very often, but some nights, when he’d been on the road with the team and lying in a hotel room, the possibility of him being a father had crossed his mind. Sometimes he’d pick up the phone to call Caroline, then cradle the receiver without ever dialing. He guessed he’d been afraid that it could be true. And if it had been, what was he supposed to do about it?
Caroline and her family lived in Kissimmee, Florida, and he’d lived in Los Angeles during the off-season. How could he be a long-distance dad?
And then there were the years when his judgment had been clouded and he could barely take care of himself, much less a kid. In a selfish way, it had been easier to deny parentage rather than confront possible truths.
But today he was able to look at that rationale with sober clarity. Disgust filled his chest. What an ass he’d been.
Caroline had sent him pictures throughout the years, but Drew hadn’t seen any resemblance. Yet he’d never thrown the photos away. He’d kept them all. In fact, several had been in his locker when he’d been with the Dodgers.
Memories surfaced and the coffee cup in Drew’s hand felt cold. He didn’t want to think about the call he’d gotten from Caroline when she told him Mackenzie saw his name on her birth certificate.
Pulling into the parking lot of Opal’s Diner, Drew looked for an available spot, didn’t see one, so cut a sharp turn and did what he usually did. He drove the Hummer up and over the curb, four-wheeled through the field and parked out back of Claws and Paws grooming.
Ada, the plump owner, walked a terrier who was doing its business on a fireweed bush.
Puckering her lips, she frowned. “Andrew Tolman, I told you I was going to call Sheriff Lewis the next time you illegally parked on my property.”
“Only be a few minutes, Ada,” he said, aiming the touch pad at the Hummer and locking it with a chirp. “When I’m done, I’ll bring you over some of Opal’s hot biscuits.”
“I don’t want any hot biscuits. I’m doing the South Beach diet and those carbs kill me.”
“Sugar, you do not look like you need to lose a single pound.”
Ada blushed, smiled shyly, then wrinkled her nose. “No, I’m not going to let you talk me out of it, Andrew. I’m calling the sheriff to have you towed as soon as Buster’s done with his potty.”
Buster had been leaving a little potty all along the back brush. The terrier was going to be awhile.
Winking, Drew added, “I’ll get you some of her clover honey to go with.”
“Now, Andrew. I mean it.”
“Won’t be but a minute, Ada.”
He headed for Opal’s, knowing pretty damn sure his Hummer would be there when he returned.
Two
Jacquie Santini was trying to give up cigarettes, but it was like asking her to give up sex. Her body just ran better on nicotine and orgasms.
The peppermint gum in her mouth was losing its flavor so she put the stale piece in a paper napkin, then replaced it with a fresh stick.
Drew hated sitting in the smoking section, and while it was killing her not to light up, she didn’t feel like getting into anything with him today—except for his pants.
She sipped a glass of cold water with cracked ice and waited for Drew to show up.
Jacquie told herself she was every kind of pathetic to still be in love with him. She knew he wasn’t in love with her anymore, but she just couldn’t give him up. How she felt about Drew Tolman was the same way she felt about her best pair of shoes from Barney’s. She still got a thrill out of feeling them against her skin. Besides, they were broken in and comfortable.
Reaching into her purse, Jacquie fingered the soft pack of Virginia Slims. If he didn’t get here soon, she’d have to go out back and take a few drags just to settle down. Why her heartbeat still raced when she anticipated seeing him was amazing to her.
She was thirty-nine, going on forty next week. She considered herself reasonably attractive and knew she drew male attention. Lots of men in Timberline were interested and those wealthy Hollywood actors coming up to buy real estate had hit on her. She’d only made one slipup, and Drew hadn’t found out about that. But what woman wouldn’t have had sex with—
“Hey, baby.” Drew slid into the booth across from her.
“Hey, Drew.” Jacquie forgot about the cigarettes when she saw him. “You’re looking good.”
Most men didn’t wear the scruffy look without coming off like pigs. While she preferred Drew in a dress shirt and slacks, the way he dressed when she took him to her real estate parties, she got an itch in her panties viewing him in his athletics.
The backward ball cap always cinched it for her. He looked every bit the ex-pro baseball player. A little arrogant, but very hot, very good-looking. Even the stubble didn’t turn her off.
Slashes of dark brown brows framed his hazel eyes. There was something about those eyes. She could lose herself in them. The expression in those eyes was like that stinking puppy-dog effect. His appearance just begged a woman to lean in and lick his mouth with her tongue.
She wanted
