The Seal's Secret Daughter

Carmen must’ve taken pity on Ethan’s panicked expression because she told him, “The three of us had a good talk in the ladies’ room and we all agreed that everyone would feel more comfortable talking at your place so we can get a better handle on the situation.”

Ethan definitely didn’t have a handle on any of this and it had to be obvious. Worse, they’d most likely overwhelmed the poor girl when he and Monica stood there arguing about his inability to raise a child right in front of her, essentially driving her away. While Monica’s earlier accusations still rankled at him, now wasn’t the time to continue that discussion.

As the trio of females silently trudged up the stairs behind him, Ethan unlocked his front door for more visitors than his apartment had ever held at one time. At least in the few months that he’d lived there.

“I need to use the bathroom,” Trina mumbled as she walked past him and toward his hallway. His first instinct was to ask the girl why she was always running to the restroom, however, it might be easier to talk with the others if he didn’t have to watch his words. Plus, there wasn’t a window in there so it wasn’t like Trina could escape. Again.

“Is this everything she has?” Monica folded a denim pair of shorts that had fallen out of the plastic grocery bag Trina had left on the dining room table earlier. “There isn’t much inside here.”

“Any paperwork?” Carmen asked her, and Ethan had to bite his tongue to keep from asking why Monica was even a part of this. “It would help if we had an official name or something to go by before I call any other agencies.”

For such a seemingly shy and reserved woman, Monica certainly had no problem barging into his personal life and offering up her opinions. Although, Trina had definitely opened up more when the quiet librarian and part-time waitress had spoken to her. He wondered what else she and his daughter had discussed in that ladies’ room while Ethan had been tearing through town in a full panic.

“Here,” Monica said, holding up a pink-and-blue document titled Birth Certificate. Despite the lenses of her glasses, he could still see the hint of accusation in the woman’s brown eyes as she focused on Ethan, her forehead lifted in a questioning crease. “Your name is listed under Father.”

What had Ethan done wrong? He’d always used protection, even back then, never relying on someone else’s methods of birth control. Yet, Monica was frowning at him as though he’d gotten her pregnant. As if her sleeping with him would ever be a possibility now.

Her rich, dark brown hair was piled up into its usual messy ponytail of curls and he preferred her in the snug, turquoise T-shirt all the waitresses at the café sported rather than in the monotone cardigan sweaters she usually wore at the library. Ethan thought Monica had been warming up to him the past month—she’d even begun to smile at him on the mornings she’d pulled extra shifts at the Cowgirl Up. She had a cute little dimple in the side of one cheek and each time he’d caught a flash of it, Ethan felt as though someone had given him a key to Heaven.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t already given plenty of thought to what it would be like to get her out of her clothes completely, to be able to kiss every bit of her light amber skin and hopefully be the one to make her smile, over and over. Judging by her current glare, though, he doubted that he’d ever see that dimple again, let alone find out what was underneath that T-shirt. Maybe he’d dodged a bullet by not asking her out, after all.

“Let me see that.” Carmen took the certificate before studying it. “Yep, your name is definitely on it.”

Ethan walked over to Carmen and scanned the paper over her shoulder. “Trina DeVecchio Renault.” She even had his last name.

“Date of birth, February 8.” Eleven years ago. He didn’t have to do much calculating to know the timing was right. Confusion made the corners of his lips turn down. “But I never signed anything. And my birth date on it is wrong. Hell, I didn’t even know about the girl until today.”

“Well, someone signed off on it and that’s all that matters.” Carmen hooked her thumbs in her leather duty belt. “I would still need to run everything through the system to make sure the document is legitimate, but if it is, then the kinship law would apply here.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Ethan admitted, glancing at Monica to see if she was judging him even more for not knowing anything about family law.

“Technically,” Carmen continued. “This Chantal DeVecchio, assuming she had legal custody of the girl in the first place, gave you temporary guardianship as another family member when she left her in your care. Therefore, the state will recognize you as Trina’s temporary guardian.”

“Is there a note or a paper in there that says she was giving her to me?” Ethan asked, looking at the bag in Monica’s hands.

“No, just two pictures.” Monica held up a photograph of an older woman sitting on the front porch of a mobile home—Trina’s grandmother, perhaps. The second photo was actually on shiny magazine paper and showed a basket full of calico kittens.

Even Ethan had more personal belongings and mementos when he’d shipped off to basic training.

“For whatever it’s worth—” Monica gave a quick glance toward the hallway then lowered her voice to the whisper-soft tone she normally used inside the library “—when I spoke to her in the ladies’ room, she admitted that she would rather stay with you than go into foster care.”

“Then why did she run off?” Ethan tried to whisper back, but it sounded more like an angry hiss.

“Probably because she thought you didn’t want her?” Monica put her hands on her hips and, if Ethan had been in his right mind, he would’ve appreciated the way her defensive stance showed off her lush curves. He’d been trying to get this woman out of her shell for the past few months, yet now that she was finally directing some passion his way, the angry heat in her eyes caused him to take a step back.

“I’d suggest hiring an attorney and making everything legal,” Carmen said, typing something into her smartphone. “But, in the meantime, depending on what the CPS records show, as long as Trina’s not a ward of the court, I feel comfortable releasing her into your custody.”

One advantage to living in a small town was that when people knew you, they didn’t mind giving you the benefit of the doubt. Ethan finally understood the next step he would have to take.

Now, he just needed to convince a scared and abandoned little girl that he was her best option. Too bad he hadn’t convinced himself yet.

Chapter Three

“But what if she changes her mind and doesn’t want to stay with him?” Monica asked Carmen when the two women got downstairs and circled around to the sidewalk in front of Domino’s Deli. “What if she runs away again?”

“Then I’d suggest you let Freckles know that the girl might show up at the Cowgirl Up again. Maybe she thinks of it as a safe space.”

“Does that mean you think she might not feel safe with him?”

“I know you’re worried about the girl.” Carmen placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I can’t predict the future any better than you can, but I got the impression that she ran off the first time thinking she was saving face. You know, getting away before her father could reject her. Kids that age have a tendency to act tough when they’re afraid. When we talked to her back in the restaurant and told her that Ethan was out searching for her and seemed genuinely worried about her well-being, she appeared willing to give him a chance. Listen, Monica, I never would’ve released her into his custody if I thought it wasn’t in her best interest.”

Monica had always liked and trusted the female police officer, who preferred mysteries while her twin sons raced through a couple of Magic Tree House books a week. They’d never really socialized much, but then again, Monica wasn’t much for hanging out with her neighbors or attending the community activities.

She was too busy working two jobs and taking care of Gran. Being pleasant and making small talk with the customers at the restaurant took all the energy she had left. Still, she knew how to keep her eyes and ears open and Carmen Gregson was compassionate with the townspeople, observant on her patrols, and dedicated to her job and family. Everyone in town valued the woman’s opinion.

Looking at her watch, Monica estimated that she had fifteen more minutes before she would have to leave for the library. So she didn’t bother keeping the hesitation from her voice as she asked, “What do you think of Ethan Renault?”

“In what way?” Carmen was a cop and an observer. Like Monica, she probably did her research and analyzed things from all angles.

“As a father, I guess.” Monica stated the obvious when what she really wanted to ask—what she’d really wanted to know for the past few months—was if she was a complete fool for having a teensy tiny crush on the man.

But her ill-advised attraction to Ethan was something she could barely acknowledge to herself. There was no way she would say it out loud. Besides, now certainly wasn’t the time to ask about the guy’s relationship suitability—which had lost all potential anyway the second Trina showed up.

Carmen turned to face her, seeming to look beyond Monica’s forced casual expression and deep down into what her mind was really thinking. Wrapping an arm around her midsection, Monica toyed with the tie of her apron, trying not to feel too exposed.

“He’s one of my husband’s best friends, so keep in mind that my opinion might be a little biased.”

Monica nodded. “Grain of salt taken.”

“When I first met Ethan, I would’ve pegged him for a typical Navy SEAL with a cocky ego and an adrenaline complex. The type of guy who doesn’t mind breaking hearts or breaking bones if it involves having a good time. Although, I’d also pegged Luke the same way and he proved me wrong. I think Ethan has been through a lot and seen a lot, yet doesn’t talk about the darker stuff. Probably hides it behind that flirty smile and arrogant charm.”

So Monica wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the lazy, seductive grin. Or the possibility of a string of broken hearts left in his wake. Resolution made her spine stiffen and her commitment to not fall prey to his flirtatious banter intensified.

“But,” Carmen continued, “I also think he takes his responsibilities seriously and he isn’t afraid of a little adversity. Luke told me that of all his former teammates, Ethan was the one he trusted the most. I know the guy probably doesn’t seem like the fatherly type now, but Trina is in safe hands.”

Monica gave a slight nod as she exhaled, but she still held on to her doubts. Her own father had come and gone from her life many times before he’d finally left for good. She and her mom had lived with Gran until Monica was six, and when her mother passed, Gran seemed to think that her dad might come back to get her. Part of Monica had been terrified that she would have to leave her grandmother and the only home she’d ever known. But the other part of her had been excited that she could have her father back, that she might finally get to experience a dad’s love. Just like Monica, Trina had to be nervous and terrified of what awaited her, but maybe she was just a little excited, too. Excited that she would now get a chance to know the man who made up part of her DNA.

Unfortunately, that excitement would soon fade once Ethan let the girl down. Even with Carmen’s vote of confidence on keeping her safe, there was no way a tried-and-true bachelor like him could change his ways and provide a nurturing home to a preteen who’d just had her world turned upside down.

For Trina’s sake, Monica would hope for the best. But leopards didn’t change their spots. It was a good reminder for the next time she found herself attracted to a man like Ethan. Blowing a curl out of her face, she couldn’t believe that she’d been secretly enjoying his flirtatious banter every Monday and Wednesday when she’d waited on him during her breakfast shift, hoping he’d ask her out.

A crackling sound shot out from the walkie-talkie on Carmen’s duty belt and Monica recognized the dispatcher’s voice through the static. A retiree with a tie-dye shirt and comb-over hairstyle that didn’t fool anyone, Harv Jenkins preferred science fiction and the occasional graphic novel. In addition to being a part-time dispatcher, he also volunteered at the senior citizens center and had always been sweet to Gran, despite the fact that her grandmother hated his comic book drawing classes. But his words today made Monica’s pulse leap. “Be advised, we just got a call about the fire alarm going off at the Alvarez house again.”

The siren from the nearby fire engine rang out and a heavy ball of dread settled in Monica’s stomach, a familiar feeling lately where her grandmother was concerned.

“You want me to drive you in the patrol car?” Carmen offered.

“No thanks.” Monica jogged across the street toward the Cowgirl Up Café and called over her shoulder, “As long as it’s not as bad as last time, I’m going to need my own car to get to work after I check on her.”

She’d already left her shift at the restaurant early to help with Trina. Now she was going to be late to open the library to help with Gran. And it was Western Wednesday, which meant that she only had thirty minutes before the Louis L’Amour book club arrived for their monthly meeting in the reading room.

At this rate, Monica was going to lose both of her jobs. And then where would she and Gran be?

* * *

Trina came out of the bathroom as soon as Monica and Carmen left. Ethan thought about offering to show her around the small apartment, but honestly, there wasn’t much need for a tour at this point. Besides the kitchen and combination living room–dining room, there were only two bedrooms and she’d probably already seen those on her way down the hall.

Plus, she still hadn’t said much directly to him and he didn’t really know what to say either.

He tried to remember what he’d been like at that age. Sullen and defiant and lonely because his dad was often out of town working for days at a time, leaving Ethan alone to fend for himself. Swallowing down his own feelings of resentment, he decided to try a different tactic.

“So, you have a caseworker back home?” he asked. She’d casually mentioned as much back in the kitchen at the Cowgirl Up as though it were no big deal. As though every eleven-year-old had one of those. If she was anything like him, she would try to put on a tough front to cover how scared she was.

Trina shrugged, but at least it was a response.

So much for the small talk. Ethan took a deep breath, steeling himself for the tougher questions he knew he needed to ask. But before he could, she turned to face him, her eyes narrowed with doubt.

“Were you really a Navy SEAL?”

Okay, so if she wasn’t going to talk about herself, maybe he could lure her into a conversation by letting down his own guard. “How did you know that?”

“I’m not blind.” She pointed to a class picture in a frame on his fireplace mantel. Besides the small, fake plant he’d inherited from his dad, it was the only personal item in the room. “It says ‘Basic Underwater Demolition/SEALS Training.’ Plus, Chantal already told me you were in the Navy.”

A jolt of surprise caught him, and not just because the girl referred to her mother by first name. “What else did your mom tell you about me?”

“That you got her pregnant and then took off.”

“Trina...” Ethan took a cautious step forward, dipping his chin so he could catch her eyes. “I want you to understand that I never would’ve left if I’d known about you.” If she didn’t believe anything else about him, he needed her to know that he’d never intentionally abandoned anyone.

Instead of giving any indication that she heard his words, Trina pivoted as she studied everything else in the living room but him. “She once told me that you dated anyone in a skirt.”

Ethan’s throat tightened. Was this how eleven-year-olds talked nowadays? He didn’t want to call her mother’s honesty into question, but he also didn’t like the idea that the deck of lies was already stacked against him. “That’s not exactly a fair assessment, considering we only knew each other for a couple of months and we both were in a rush to act like grownups. I was barely eighteen at the time.”

“That’s how old I’ll be in seven years,” Trina said without looking at him.

Whoa. He did a double take as he realized she was right. He’d already missed more than half of her childhood, more than eleven birthday parties according to the birth certificate in her bag. “So, you just had a birthday, huh?”

“I guess. You know, this apartment is a total dump.”

He followed her gaze down the hall to the second bedroom, which held a creaky twin bed, a cheap dresser and all the cardboard boxes he’d had shipped from his storage unit in San Diego and never got around to unpacking. “Well, it came furnished and I only moved here six months ago. Speaking of which, how did your mom know where to find me?”

That got her attention and her lips went from a pout to a half smirk. “She didn’t. I did.”

Her admission floored him, but before he could ask how, a knock sounded at the door. If Ethan hadn’t already been studying Trina, he would’ve missed the apprehension flashing through her eyes before she hung her head and focused on the toe of her canvas sneaker again.

When he peeked through the peephole, he recognized Kylie Gregson, Kane’s sister, and Mia McCormick. Not only was Kylie related to his boss, she was also the sister-in-law of Ethan’s best friend Luke. Kylie and her best friend Mia wouldn’t come to his house unless it was for a good reason. A knot formed in his stomach and he glanced back to where Trina was standing. He wanted to communicate to her that he couldn’t not answer, but his daughter wouldn’t lift her face.

Daughter. He was still getting used to that word.

The knock sounded again, this time right against his temple which was resting against the door.

Smothering a groan, Ethan twisted the knob and let the women in.

“We can’t stay,” Kylie explained, passing him two paper shopping bags with handles. “But we wanted to drop off some stuff for Sugar Falls’ newest resident.”

If it had been anyone else, Ethan might’ve thought they were looking for an inside scoop. But he played poker on Thursday nights with both of their husbands and knew the women were sincere.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Mostly a hodgepodge of things a girl might need,” Kylie said. Trina must’ve shown some interest from behind him because one of their unexpected visitors looked past Ethan and spoke to his daughter. “Hi. I’m Kylie Gregson. This is Mia McCormick. She owns the dance studio in town.”

Mia lifted up a pink duffel bag. “I know these probably aren’t your style, but there aren’t a ton of shopping options in Sugar Falls besides the sporting goods store and Designs by Doris, which tends to only carry stuff for the...uh...senior generation, shall we say? Anyway, it was the best we could do on short notice.”

The women held up their offerings, but Trina didn’t make a move to take anything. She just stood there in her oversize T-shirt and jeans, her blue eyes were fixated on the bags as if they contained explosives. Ethan should’ve probably accepted them on her behalf, but his brain was still trying to catch up and process how the women not only knew that his daughter needed new stuff, but had gotten everything together so quickly.

“Anyway, I’ll be going into Boise this weekend,” Kylie said, setting the bags inside the entryway, before she took a retreating step onto the landing outside his front door. “So let me know if you want to pick out some different stuff. I’d be happy to take you shopping, if your dad is okay with that.”

With a wink at Ethan, she and Mia were out the door and making their way down the stairs before Ethan could even offer so much as a thanks. He’d yet to think about where he would get suitable clothes for a girl. But apparently, word had already spread about his daughter’s unexpected arrival and her meager possessions. For the second time today, he was the last to figure things out and the feeling left him hollow and powerless.

“I guess my mom was right about women wanting to throw themselves at you,” Trina finally said before slowly approaching the bags Kylie and Mia had left behind.

The back of his neck prickled in defense. “Those ladies are married to some of my good friends.”

Trina shrugged a shoulder, then used a toe to nudge the duffel as though she was looking for a hidden booby trap before she picked it up. Ethan scooped up the bags and carried them the few feet to the ugly orange sofa.

“What about that lady Monica?” Trina asked as she looked longingly at the bags. “Was she just being nice to me because she’s married to one of your friends, too?”

“Monica Alvarez isn’t married,” Ethan replied a bit too quickly, then cleared his throat. And she most definitely wasn’t throwing herself at him. In fact, she’d acted like she couldn’t get away from Ethan fast enough this morning. Which was interesting since, normally, she shut him down with a polite shyness or an indifference that made him want to pursue her even more. Today, though, there was an edge to her that he’d never seen and her anger had been solely directed at him. People didn’t get mad if they didn’t care.

Did that mean that she possibly did care about him? A jolt of energy made its way through his bloodstream and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he thought of how close she’d stood when she was lecturing him in the corner of the Cowgirl Up kitchen. Of how her breasts had jutted forward when she’d—

“All this stuff is brand-new,” Trina said, interrupting the inappropriate turn his thoughts had taken. “It still has tags.”

She pulled out a green down jacket in a ladies’ size extra-small and a pair of black pants made of a waterproof fabric that looked a few inches too long. There were also a couple of plain, long-sleeved T-shirts and a package of thick socks. Trina held the pink duffel upside down and leggings, a wraparound sweater and some sort of white, strappy tank-top thing that looked like a sports bra fell out. He couldn’t be sure because Trina shoved it back into the bag too quickly for Ethan to see, which was just as well.

There was a separate sack at the bottom of one of the brown bags with the name of Lester’s Pharmacy on the front. Inside, Trina found a purple toothbrush and an assortment of body lotions and hair products that smelled way more fruity than anything Ethan kept stocked in his bathroom. Every item strewn across his ugly sofa was another reminder that he had absolutely no idea what a girl her age would need.

He racked his brain trying to think of what he’d required when he was that age. Clothes, food—lots of food—a skateboard, music, video games, friends.

“I guess we should probably get you registered for school,” he said, and this time he was positive that it was panic that flashed across her face. “What grade are you in?”

“I’m really tired.” She shoved the new clothes—the ones he would have to eventually reimburse someone for—onto one cushion at the end of the sofa and plopped down beside them. “Can I take a nap?”

His eyes narrowed at her evasive maneuver to throw him off topic. Although, back when he was that age, he tried to avoid any discussions involving school, as well.

“Yeah. Um, I don’t really have the extra room set up just yet, but you can sleep on my bed if you want. Or right here, I guess. Make yourself at home.” He knew the platitude sounded forced, but he truly hoped that he could make Trina feel welcome. He just didn’t quite know how to do it. “Maybe when you wake up, we can go to the grocery store or something?”

“Whatever,” she replied with a yawn before curling into a ball and using the green puffy jacket as a pillow.