And if she played her cards right, maybe the two of them could share another night of amazing sex.
Forty-five minutes later, he was parked outside Drake’s. The place was practically an institution in this part of California. Around for more than fifty years, Drake’s was cheap, the food was good and they never closed.
A far cry from the quiet dignity of the restaurant he’d just left, when Jackson pulled the door to Drake’s open, he was met by a cacophony of sound. Conversations, laughter, a baby’s cry. Silverware being jangled into trays and the crash of dirty plates swept into buckets by harried busboys. The overhead lighting was bright to the point of glaring and the hostess, inspecting her nail polish, looked just as bright when she spotted Jackson.
He hardly noticed though. Instead, his gaze swept over the booths and tables until he found the person he was looking for. Blond hair, pale cheeks, and blue eyes focused on him.
“Thanks,” he said, walking past the hostess, “I found my table.”
Walking down the crowded, narrow aisle between booths, he kept his gaze locked with Casey’s and tried to read the emotions flashing one after the other across her features. But there were too many and they changed too quickly.
His gut fisted. Something was definitely up.
Tonight, she wasn’t dressed to seduce. Tonight, she wore a pale green, long-sleeved T-shirt and her short hair was mussed, as if she’d been running her fingers through it. She wore small silver stars in her ears and was chewing at her bottom lip.
Nerves?
She should be nervous, he told himself. He had a few things to say to her and he doubted she was going to like many of them. But damn, just looking at her made him hot and hard again. She had a way of getting to him like no other woman ever had. Not something he wanted to admit even to himself, let alone her. But it was there. A niggling tug of desire that was damned hard to ignore. He stopped alongside her table, opened his mouth to speak and then slammed it shut again.
Beside her in the red vinyl booth, was a child’s booster seat. And in that seat was a baby girl. Jackson scowled as the infant—surely not even a year old yet—turned her face up to his and grinned, displaying two tiny white teeth.
And his eyes.
Tearing his gaze from the child, Jackson glared at Casey and ground out, “Just what the hell is going on?”
For just a moment, Casey wondered if Dani hadn’t been right. Maybe she should have just told him her news over the phone. At least then, she wouldn’t be faced with a tall, gorgeous furious male looking at her as if she’d dropped down from the moon.
Casey had watched him arrive. Watched him approach, in his thousand-dollar suit, looking as out of place at Drake’s as a picnic basket at a five-star restaurant. He’d obviously been out when she called. And she couldn’t help wondering who he’d been with.
Now, she stared up into his eyes—the same eyes she saw every morning when her daughter woke up to smile at her—and fought down the nerve-induced churning in the pit of her stomach. She’d known he’d be angry and she was prepared for that. Didn’t mean she had to like it.
Yes, she was doing the right thing. The only thing she could do, being the kind of person she was. But that didn’t mean she wanted to. Or that she was feeling at all easy about this confrontation.
She watched as he shifted his gaze from her to the baby and back again and felt his tension mount. She didn’t need to see it in the hard set of his broad shoulders or the tight clenching of his jaw. She could feel it, radiating out around him, like flames looking for fresh tinder.
And things were only going to get worse in the next few minutes.
“Why don’t you sit down, Jackson?” she finally said, waving one hand at the bench seat opposite her. Keep calm, she told herself. You’re two mature adults. This can be settled quickly and calmly.
As if he’d just remembered that they were in public, he grudgingly slid into the booth, braced his forearms on the table and glared at her.
Maybe not calmly. But at least he wasn’t willing to shout and argue in public. Precisely why she’d chosen Drake’s to let him in on her little secret. “Thanks for coming.”
“Oh, are we being polite now?” He shook his head and let his gaze slide to the baby, now happily gumming the corner of a teething biscuit.
Casey knew what he was seeing. A beautiful little girl with a thatch of dark brown curls and big brown eyes. Her cheeks were rosy from the nap she’d taken on the drive to the diner and her smile was wide and delighted with the world.
But Jackson didn’t look so delighted. He looked more like he’d been hit over the head with a two-by-four. Casey could hardly blame him for being shocked. Her daughter was the best thing that had ever happened to Casey. But Jackson was being slapped with a reality that she had been living with for nearly two years.
It was a lot to take in.
Especially for someone like him.
According to her very detailed research into his background, he was a womanizer. Hence her seduction routine at the bar a week ago. She’d known that he’d respond to her if she showed the slightest interest. It was what he did. He was a man who couldn’t make a commitment that lasted more than a few weeks. He was dedicated to his own pleasure and living his life unencumbered.
Not exactly prime father material.
When his gaze shifted back to hers, Casey stiffened. Accusation and reproach shone in his eyes and were very hard to miss.
“Since we’re being so very civil, you want to explain to me just what exactly is going on here?”
“That’s why I called you. To explain.”
“Start with how you got my cell number,” he said and nodded when a waitress approached with a pot of coffee. She deftly turned the cup over on its saucer, poured the coffee, then drifted away again at his dismissive glance.
“I called your office at the King airfield,” she said once they were alone again. “The recording on the answering machine listed your cell number for emergencies. I thought this qualified.”
He blew out a breath, took a sip of his coffee, then set the cup down gingerly, as if he didn’t trust himself not to throw it against a wall. “All right. Now, how about you explain the rest. Starting with your full name.”
“Casey Davis.”
“Where you from?”
“I live just outside Sacramento. A little town called Darby.”
He nodded. “Okay. Now, about…” He glanced at the baby again.
Casey inhaled deeply, hoping to settle the jangle of nerves rattling around inside her. She’d known this was going to be hard. She just hadn’t expected to feel almost mute when the time came for her to speak.
Clearing her throat, she told herself to just say it. So she reached over and smoothed her palm over the back of her daughter’s head. “This is Mia. She’s almost nine months old—” she paused to look deeply into his eyes “—and she’s your daughter.”
“I don’t have children.” His eyes narrowed until they were nothing more than slits with dark brown daggers shining through. After several long seconds ticked past, he finally said, “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but it won’t work. I’ve never seen you before a week ago.”
“I know—”