Her tone wasn’t all that convincing but he let it go. “Look, Darcie, if you’ve got information about my daughter, I expect you to give it over.” It was tough to look menacing and serious with mushy animal crackers decorating his shirt, a squirming baby on his hip and a pink cloth diaper bag slung over his shoulder.
But he gave it a good shot, despite the fact that desperation was climbing and his imagination of what could happen to his daughter was vivid and ugly, sending him into near panic.
One of Darcie’s golden brows arched and her hazel eyes took on a look of censure. She reached for a paper towel and dried her face and hands. “Do you threaten your daughter like that?”
“I’m not threatening—” Appalled, offended, he broke off, tried to gather his wits. Was it the situation or the woman who had him so scattered, so close to the boiling point? It annoyed him that she’d left him, asleep and naked, five months ago. And it annoyed him that she’d just popped up in his life again. All that annoyance was getting tangled up in his panic over Heather. “No, I do not threaten my daughter!”
The baby winced, blinked. Her lip trembled.
“Now look what you’ve done,” Darcie said. She reached out and plucked Mary Beth out of his arms.
“Wait just a—”
“Hush.”
Flynn didn’t know if she’d meant the baby or him, but he was surprised enough to obey. He didn’t normally hand his kid over to just anybody. Actually, he hadn’t really handed her, Darcie had taken her and he hadn’t put up a fight.
He nearly groaned. What kind of a father was he? He couldn’t even hold on to his baby daughter. Could just any old stranger pluck his baby out of his arms?
And what about Heather? She was lost. He’d lost her.
How had that happened? Why hadn’t he known she was that unhappy?
He should have seen it—especially tonight. He’d asked her to baby-sit Mary Beth so he could come to this Daddy Club meeting, but she’d thrown a hissy fit. Frustrated, he’d snatched up Mary Beth and stormed out of the house.
Oh, man. He was such an idiot.
“Hey, it’ll be all right.”
He felt Darcie’s hand on his arm, met her compassionate eyes, noticed that the color had come back into her cheeks.
Mary Beth was happily twisting messy fingers in Darcie’s curly hair, dislodging several unruly strands from its sexy updo. Darcie didn’t seem to notice or to mind. And for some confounded reason, that touched him.
“I’m at a disadvantage here. You seem to have all the answers—about my daughter…and about where you’ve been for the past five months, why you left…”
His words trailed off, inviting her to pick up the conversational ball. He knew the timing of personal questions was inappropriate, but he felt like an ostrich looking for a hole in the sand to bury his head. Maybe if he stalled long enough, somebody would burst through the door and tell him it was all a mistake, that his daughter was home, safe and sound and happy, and that he wasn’t failing miserably at just about everything he did lately.
“I don’t have all the answers, Flynn.” She shifted the baby so that Mary Beth’s diaper-clad bottom was perched on the shelf of her arm. The baby laid her head on Darcie’s shoulder, and something in Flynn’s chest tightened. It didn’t make sense, but just that simple move made him feel inadequate. That was an emotion he was becoming increasingly familiar with these days.
“As for me,” she said. “I haven’t been hiding.”
“I thought you lived in Philly.”
“Did I say that?”
“No. You didn’t say much of anything.”
“You’d had a lot to drink.” She smiled. “Maybe we should start over.” She held out her hand. “Darcie Moretti, physical address Trenton, New Jersey. Same town I’ve lived in all my life.”
Flynn felt ridiculous exchanging pleasantries in the women’s rest room—especially in light of the fact that they’d slept together—but somehow Darcie Moretti made it seem normal.
He accepted her hand, felt a kinetic jolt that both shocked and worried him. He saw her hazel eyes widen, saw them darken to the color of moss.
“Well,” she murmured. “This is awkward.”
His laughter was both strained and spontaneous—and took him totally by surprise. “You’re a contradiction, Darcie Moretti. You pull a feminine stunt by hiding out in the rest room, then blatantly admit to an attraction.”
“I didn’t blatantly admit to an attraction. I only made a comment.”
“An admission,” he argued. “And along those lines, how about some straight talk about where you think my daughter took off to.”
Her gaze didn’t skitter this time. It held his. “I’d rather not say.”
“And I’d rather that you did. We’re standing in the women’s rest room, for crying out loud. We’ve gone to bed together. If that doesn’t invite confidences, I don’t know what does.” Now her gaze did jerk away, making him think of avoidance and secrets. First things first, he reminded himself. Find Heather, and then get the whole story on Darcie Moretti and her disappearing acts.
“Tell me, Darcie.”
She shook her head. “I’m only as good as my word. I work at the hot line and promise the kids who call me that they’re safe talking to me. If I betrayed that confidence, word would get around on the street. Kids would stop calling and they’d end up in bad situations and it would be my fault.”
Something raw and painful shimmered in her tone, but he told himself to let it go. “I’m not going to spread rumors. We’re talking about my daughter.”
“She may be your daughter, but she called me.”
He felt his frustration rising, tried to tamp it back down. “I’m not such a bad guy. I don’t beat her. I try to give her everything I can.”
“Except your time?”
“Did she say that?”
“Sometimes she does.”
“Sometimes she does?” he repeated. “She’s called you more than once?”
“Yes. I’ve been talking to her for about three weeks. Since just before New Year’s Eve.”
Flynn raked a hand through his hair, dislodged a hunk of sticky animal cracker, and wiped his hand on his coat, uncaring that it left a light brown smear.
“We had a fight New Year’s Eve. She wanted to go to a party and I said no. I didn’t know she was still mad about that.” He heaved a sigh and focused on her reflection in the mirror, noticing that one of the chopsticks shoved haphazardly in her curly hair was slipping.
“According to Heather you claimed it was family night, but a friend came over and Heather ended up baby-sitting Mary Beth while you ignored both of the girls and had drinks with the other woman.”
His gaze jerked back to her face. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn Darcie Moretti’s tone was laced with jealousy.
“I did not ignore her, and I didn’t make her babysit! I was home. And that other woman was Ross Steadwell’s wife, Elaine! Ross was there, too, and so were their kids.”
“Oh.” She didn’t look a bit contrite over her show of jealousy—if it had even been that. “Aren’t Ariel and Jimmy cuties?”
“You know them?”
“Very well. I handle the insurance for Data Ink. where Elaine works. In fact, uh…I’m the one who suggested that she