Their Secret Son

She seemed to relax, to accept his compromise. “I suppose that will work.”

“Some guys might not like a surprise like this, Kristin. But I’m not just any guy. I want to take an active part in Bobby’s life. And I plan to be the best dad in the whole world.”

She fingered the stem of her wineglass, then looked at him. Lord, she had the prettiest green eyes he’d ever seen. He’d missed gazing at her.

“But this is a secret for now,” she said.

“For now.” Joe shot her a smile. “But we’re going to tell Bobby. Soon.”

“When the time is right,” Kristin insisted. “You promised to let me decide when that would be.”

He had, although he was having cold feet about the promise. Still, he owed her something. He’d gotten her pregnant, then told her he didn’t love her anymore, left her to fend for herself and the baby.

Yep. He owed her something. And he’d given his word to keep quiet until she said the time was right.

But as far as he was concerned, that day couldn’t come too soon.

Thomas Reynolds might not think Joe was good enough for his daughter. And maybe he was right. But Bobby was a Davenport.

Once upon a time, Joe might have backed down when it came to a relationship with Kristin. But this was different. He wouldn’t bow out of his son’s life. Not now. Not ever.

Kristin and her father had better brace themselves, because Joe Davenport was going to be a father to his son.

And he would fight whoever got in the way.

Chapter Three

K ristin knew Joe meant to be a part of Bobby’s life, but she hadn’t expected him to show up at the front door on his next off-duty day, wearing a white T-shirt, a pair of faded jeans and a smile that battered the wall she’d built around her heart.

“I came to see Bobby,” he said.

She fought the urge to look over her shoulder, to see who had seen him at the door. But she didn’t dare peek; she didn’t really need to. Her father’s room was on the backside of the house, and he was busy on the Internet this morning, dabbling with his online stock purchases.

Besides, as a fireman, Joe’s interest in Bobby seemed reasonable. Her father couldn’t find any fault in that.

“I’d like to take Bobby to the station and introduce him to some of the guys. You know, let him see the equipment. Get a private tour.”

When he flashed her another crooked smile, she couldn’t help but relax. Somewhat.

For some crazy reason, she wished she’d known he was coming so that she could’ve run a comb through her hair, put on some lipstick.

But Joe had come to see Bobby, not her. And she had no business primping for her old lover. Not when she’d already been burned by him and his change of heart. And not when she had a commitment to someone else.

Kristin called her son, and moments later Bobby came bounding downstairs.

“Uh-oh.” The little boy slowed his steps when he laid eyes on the off-duty fireman on the stoop. “I haven’t been playing with the lighter anymore.”

“That’s good,” Joe said. “I came by to talk to you about fire safety and doing me and the guys down at the station a favor.”

“You want me to do a favor for you?” Bobby’s eyes grew wide. “Sure. What is it?”

“We’d like you to represent the fire department while you’re at school. You know, by telling the kids about the dangers of playing with matches and lighters. After all, you’ve seen what happens when a fire gets out of hand.”

Bobby broke into a full-on grin. “Cool.”

“Of course, I’d make you a Junior Fire Marshal,” Joe said, “so the kids know you’ve been trained and certified by the department.”

“That’s way cool.” Bobby made his way to the front door and gazed at the man he didn’t realize was his daddy with such admiration, such awe, such respect, that Kristin had to swallow a lump in her throat and blink back tears.

Joe shot a glance at her. “If it’s all right with your mom, I’d like to take you down to the station this morning.”

A part of her wanted to hold Bobby tight, to keep him away from his father. To keep the future from unfolding without her. But she couldn’t say no.

The idea of those two peas in a pod taking off without her didn’t sit well, though. She’d love to witness their first father-son experience and longed to see them together, to watch their reactions. But she’d better conjure an excuse other than the truth.

“I’ve never had an official tour of a fire station,” she said, trying to make her interest sound as though it had nothing to do with father and son. “Can I go along, too?”

Joe studied her for a moment, his thoughts impossible to read. Then he shrugged and slid her a half smile. “Sure.”

Had her request surprised him? Bothered him? She wasn’t sure, but something told her he was merely being polite for her son’s sake.

For their son’s sake.

Her secret had become his secret, and she hoped he would honor it until she deemed the time was right to reveal it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said. “I’ll get my purse.”

Moments later, they all climbed into his Tahoe and started down the road. Bobby sat in the middle of the spacious backseat, as eager and excited as Kristin had ever seen him.

How strange, she thought. To be riding down the street in Joe’s SUV. Like a family on the way to the amusement park. Or to the movie theater, the mall or the beach.

It seemed so right yet, at the same time, surreal.

Kristin found it difficult not to glance across the seat at the tall, rugged man behind the wheel. Impossible to ignore his square chin, the quirk of his smile, the glimmer in his gold-flecked eyes.

Even when she looked straight ahead, she couldn’t help but relish the smell within the cab of his vehicle, a combination of new car and Joe’s light, musky aftershave.

But Kristin wasn’t the only one having trouble keeping her eyes to herself. Joe kept glancing at Bobby, at his hair, his face. The little hands that rested upon small knees.

Was he taking inventory? Checking the Davenport contribution to the boy?

Kristin found Joe’s interest heartwarming, but at the same time scary. She’d never had to share Bobby before and she refused to consider the thought of cross-country visitation. It was more than a mom could handle at this point.

When they reached the station, Joe parked in back, next to a white Jeep Wrangler and a blue Ford Explorer. “We’re here.”

“All right!” Bobby’s enthusiasm was hard to ignore.

And so was her own nervous excitement. She hadn’t been to visit Joe’s home away from home in years.

Joe watched Kristin and Bobby climb from the Tahoe. He’d intended to spend time with his son alone, and Kristin’s request to join them had taken him by surprise. Didn’t she trust him to be alone with Bobby? They’d made a deal, and she ought to know he’d abide by it. For the time being, anyway.

Of course, having her come along wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was kind of nice. Made him almost feel like part of a family.

But if he knew what was good for him, he’d stop thinking about stuff like that.

Things between him and Kristin had ended a long time ago, and he had no intention of resurrecting something destined to crash and burn. Especially with a woman who would choose her father over him every time.

And Thomas Reynolds wasn’t just any man, any father. The hard-ass real estate tycoon had pulled a few political and financial favors and fought to thwart Harry’s efforts to gain leniency in Joe’s case. He’d argued that Bayside didn’t need another known juvenile delinquent back on city streets. Joe wasn’t so sure that Reynolds wasn’t just trying to get back at him personally, because the wealthy businessman hadn’t spoken in juvenile court since.

Fortunately, the judge had seen the results of Harry’s involvement with other troubled young boys and ruled in Joe’s favor. But Joe had a feeling Reynolds had never gotten over the court’s decision.

And Joe doubted he ever would.

There wasn’t much the wealthy landowner did that Joe didn’t pay close attention to. And more than one Bayside citizen had crossed Thomas Reynolds, only to meet with financial ruin somewhere down the line. A coincidence? Joe didn’t think so.

Shoving aside his resentment of Kristin’s father, he placed a hand on Bobby’s shoulder. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my family.”

The first fireman they met was Sam Henley, a five-year veteran on the squad. “Hey, Davenport. What’s up?”

Joe gently squeezed his son’s small shoulder and addressed his friend and fellow firefighter. “I brought along a candidate for that Junior Fire Marshal position. His name is Bobby.”

“It’s nice to meet you, son.” Sam extended a hand in an adult greeting that caused the boy to beam with pride. Then he cast an appreciative eye on the attractive woman at Joe’s side.

“This is Kristin Reynolds,” Joe explained, “Bobby’s mother.”

After pleasantries were made, Sam gave Bobby and his entourage a full tour of the station, the trucks and equipment.

The guys Joe thought of as brothers kept glancing at him and Kristin with knowing looks. Joe could tell by the way they grinned at him—and winked when Kristin wasn’t looking—that they assumed his interest in the boy had more to do with the pretty mother.

Maybe, to an extent, they had sensed something. Being this close to Kristin again was having an effect on him. And try as he might, he couldn’t seem to keep from gazing at her, appreciating the attractive woman at his side.

She wore a turquoise silk blouse that set off the color of her eyes, made them glimmer and sparkle. The slinky material dressed up a simple pair of black jeans that hugged her hips. Kristin had always been attractive, but the years—or maybe motherhood—had done something to her. Made her blossom.

As her shoulder brushed against him, he fought a natural urge to take her hand or to slip an arm around her and pull her close. To go back in time and take up where they left off.

It was a stupid thought. What they had before had been special—but the situation had been hopeless. And now, eight years later, they’d both grown up. Changed more than either of them could probably guess. And if that weren’t reason enough to ditch the sappy urges, there were too many secrets between them. Too much pain. Too much reality.

Kristin was destined for bigger things than a small-town life with an average Joe.

No. His interest was in his son. And Joe looked forward to the day he could announce that relationship to the world.

After the tour of the fire station, Joe took Kristin and Bobby to lunch at Burger Bob’s, a nearby hamburger joint with an indoor playground to attract kids and families.

Bobby zipped off to play until their order was ready, while Kristin waited with Joe at a corner booth.

It felt funny sitting across from her old teenage lover, waiting for a meal of cheeseburgers, fries and chocolate shakes—fare that had once been their favorite.

And it felt even stranger to go out to eat with their son, something other families did on a routine basis.

“Thanks for letting me take Bobby to the station,” Joe said.

She smiled, remembering how much time Joe had spent with the fire department when he was a teen, how the firefighters became the family he didn’t have. She supposed it was a way for Joe to introduce his son to his world. And she was glad she was able to share the day. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“You’re welcome.” He shrugged. “It was no big deal. Just a visit to the fire station. Kids like that sort of thing.”

She suspected it was much more than that. Unless things had changed, the department was Joe’s life, his family, his home. And taking Bobby to meet his buddies and see the station was an attempt to share himself with his son. But Kristin didn’t comment.

Nor did she mention the fact that he’d once shared his life at the station with her. And that she’d been honored when he had.

She remembered how his eyes had lit up when he told her about the camaraderie he found with the firemen. In fact, his anecdotes had made the guys down at the station seem so real, so extra-special, that she’d really wanted to meet them herself.

He’d taken her to the fire department once to introduce her to his friends. Most of the guys had been out on a call, but the ones she’d met had made her feel welcome. And special.

The aroma of burgers and fries filled the air, as they sat at the white Formica table, the past hovering too close, the future just out of reach.

When one of Burger Bob’s employees brought a tray of food and set it down, Kristin called Bobby to eat.

“Aw, do I have to?” the boy asked.

Kristin was ready to begin the usual argument, whenever her son wanted to continue playing instead of going to bed, brushing his teeth or eating dinner, but Joe stepped in.

“Bobby, a fireman has to eat when the chow is in front of him, since he never knows when he’ll be called out on an emergency that could keep him away from the station for hours.”

The boy nodded, then joined them at the table, taking a seat next to Joe. More than once, his eyes flitted back and forth between his messy, ketchup-laden burger and the man he’d obviously come to admire.

“Do you have a family?” Bobby asked Joe. “You know, kids and stuff?”

Both adults paused, hands half-raised or half-lowered, jaws frozen.

“The guys down at the fire station are my brothers,” Joe said. “And I’ve got a friend named Harry, who has included me in his family.”

Joe shot a glance at Kristin, and she bit her bottom lip.

She could read the pain in his eyes, the accusation. The disappointment. He wanted her to tell Bobby now, to use this as an opening to explain. But she couldn’t allow it. Her son might tell her father.

No more lies, she’d promised herself. But she couldn’t help this lie of omission.

What a web she’d woven.

As Joe munched on a double bacon cheeseburger, Bobby studied him while sucking chocolate shake through a straw. “For an adult, you’re pretty cool.”

“Oh, yeah?” Joe answered, a grin tugging at his lips. “Thanks.”

“You’re even more cool than Dr. Dylan.”

“Dr. Dylan?” Joe asked. His eyes traveled to Kristin, and she felt her cheeks warm.

Her fiancé, Dylan Montgomery, was better known as Dr. Dylan. And it was no surprise to her that Bobby would like Joe better. Dylan hadn’t taken Bobby on any outings—yet, although she was sure he would one of these days. Dylan’s book tours and speaking engagements took up a lot of his time.

“He’s not a shot-and-medicine kind of doctor,” Bobby said. “He’s on TV.”

“A movie star?” Joe asked.

“No,” Bobby interjected before Kristin could explain. “Not like that. Dr. Dylan just tells other people what they’re doing wrong.”

Joe looked at Kristin, then questioned the boy. “Does your mom take you to see Dr. Dylan?”

“Nope. He comes to our house, sometimes. He’s my mom’s boyfriend.”

“I see,” Joe said.

So, pretty Kristin hadn’t been a hermit. Or celibate. But then, neither had Joe. But for some reason, it prickled him to know she had a boyfriend.

Because of his son, he told himself. That’s the only reason.

But maybe he was just plain envious of the guy who’d captured Kristin’s heart. Envious because Dr. Dylan represented the kind of man Thomas Reynolds approved of as a son-in-law.

Bobby popped a French fry into his mouth. Between chews, he said, “Dr. Dylan is stuffy.”

“Stuffy?” Joe asked.

“That’s what Megan, my sitter, says. I’m not sure what it means, but I think it’s because he reminds her of my stuffed walrus.”

Kristin choked on a fry—uncomfortable with the table topic?—then cleared her throat. “Looks like I’m going to have to talk to Megan. I don’t think Dr. Dylan looks like Wally the Walrus.”

“He has that funny mustache,” Bobby reminded her. “And his chest and neck get all poochy when he talks.”

“You’ve always liked Dr. Dylan,” Kristin said. A blush on her cheeks suggested the conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn.

“I do.” Bobby looked at Joe and laughed. “I like Wally the Walrus, too.”

Joe couldn’t help but chuckle. He wondered whether he should correct the kid, but for what? Being honest? Having an opinion? Heck, he didn’t need to lay eyes on the guy to share the stuffed-walrus opinion.

Bobby pushed the remnants of his burger aside. “Can I go play now?”

“One more bite,” Kristin responded.

The boy complied, then dashed toward the multicolored climbing structure, leaving Joe and Kristin alone. Joe took the opportunity to learn more about Dr. Dylan, to find out how Kristin felt about the man. How deep their relationship went.

But only because the man might become his son’s stepfather, Joe told himself. That was the only reason. Yet he couldn’t ignore a tinge of envy.

“So, tell me about Dr. Wally.”

Kristin clicked her tongue. “Stop that. His name is Dylan. And he doesn’t look like a stuffed walrus.”

“Okay. Tell me about Dr. Dylan.”

She arched a brow. “Why do you want to know about him?”

“Just curious.”

She scrunched her nose, and Joe assumed she felt awkward discussing her new lover with her old one.

He supposed it felt kind of weird to him, too, but like a puppy with a brand-new slipper in his mouth, he couldn’t seem to leave it alone. “Is he good to you?”

She nodded. “And he’s good to Bobby, too. Although he says I’m too easy on him.”

“Are you?”

“Bobby seems to get into a lot of trouble, but sometimes I find it kind of funny. Or clever. The other day, he took the closet doors off the runner, leaned them against the shelf and made a slide in the bedroom.” She fiddled with the straw in her drink. “I scolded him, of course, but didn’t give him time-out.”

Joe’s old man would have found that reason to bounce Joe across the room. Kristin’s method of discipline seemed in line with his own.

“Dylan thought Bobby was being destructive. But the doors had already been broken, and I was waiting for the handyman to fix them. I thought Bobby was just bored. And a little creative.”

“I agree.” Joe reached across the table, took her hand in spite of his resolve not to get too touchy-feely. “Bobby’s a great kid, Kristin. You’ve done a good job raising him by yourself.”

He didn’t mention being sorry that he couldn’t have been there for her. Or that he placed a lot of the blame on her dad.

It was all water under the bridge now, he supposed, but the fact was, Joe didn’t like Thomas Reynolds any more than Thomas liked him. And Kristin would have eventually resented Joe for coming between her and her father.

As they nursed their chocolate milkshakes, drinks they’d shared in the past, Joe couldn’t help wondering how their lives would have turned out had he not buckled to her father’s demands and let Kristin go.

Would she have told him about the baby? Would they have run away and gotten married? Lived in a crummy apartment, the only place he would have been able to afford?

He shook off the curiosity. Kristin, who’d only known wealth and privilege, wouldn’t have been happy with the simple life Joe could provide. And even though his paycheck was now considerably larger than what it would have been eight years ago, what they once had was over and done.

His only concern was Bobby. For the boy’s future. And making sure he got to spend as much time as possible with his son.

“How long will you be in town?” Joe asked her.

“For the summer, I think. Assuming my dad’s health improves, I’ll return to the east coast when the new school year starts.”

That gave Joe some time to bond with his son, time to get to know him. Time to introduce him to the people who’d become his family. “The Logans are having a barbecue on Saturday. And I’m not working. Would it be all right if I took Bobby?”

“Of course,” she said. “The Logans are nice people. And I know how much they mean to you.”

“Great. I’ll pick him up about noon, if that’s all right.”

She cleared her throat. “I’ll bring him to your house, if you don’t mind.”

Joe crossed his arms and leaned back in the red vinyl seat. So that’s where she was coming from. Obviously, she still didn’t want Joe at her house, still didn’t want to chance him running into her dad.

Had time with his son not been at stake, Joe would have told her just what he thought of that damn suggestion to meet him. As it was, he swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and wrote the directions to his condominium complex on a napkin.

Her keeping things a secret wasn’t going to last for long. Joe wouldn’t let it. One of these days he’d force the issue and insist they tell their son the truth. Tell Bobby that Joe was his father. And that, from now on, his dad was going to be a big part of his life.

Then they’d tell Thomas Reynolds.

The blustery old goat might get red in the face and cuss a blue streak, but he didn’t scare Joe. Not anymore.

Joe didn’t want to see Thomas Reynolds suffer a heart attack but, quite frankly, the man should have learned to control his temper and his blood pressure years ago.

Bobby was a Davenport.

And as far as Joe was concerned, Kristin’s father could put that in his fancy pipe and smoke it.

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