Two words, said so tightly it was a wonder he’d been able to squeeze them out of his throat. Well, fine. Casey understood that this was a surprise. But he had to understand that she wasn’t happy about this, either.
“I didn’t want to know the name of my daughter’s father,” she said firmly. “I wasn’t interested in the man then and I’m not interested now. I didn’t go to a sperm bank looking for a lasting connection, after all. All I wanted was a baby.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched and an emotional shutter was down over his eyes, preventing her from getting the slightest impression of what he was thinking. “And you found this out a month ago.”
“Yes.”
He tapped his fingertips against the table. “Why’d you wait so long to tell me?”
Though his tone was even, his voice quiet, Casey had no problem identifying the anger behind that statement.
She took a gulp of her now cold coffee and grimaced as it slid down her throat. “Frankly, I’d considered not telling you at all at first.”
His eyebrows arched.
“But soon enough, I realized you had the right to know if you actually were Mia’s father.”
“You doubted it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she countered. “Just because some hacker got into the clinic’s computer system doesn’t mean he did a good job of it.” Then she looked him straight in the eye. “Besides, you are definitely not the kind of father I wanted for my baby. When I went to Mandeville, I specifically requested the sperm of a scientist.”
For a second, insult flashed across his face, then he snorted a laugh again and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation. “A scientist?”
“I wanted my child to be smart.”
He glared at her. “I graduated magna cum laude.”
“With a degree in partying? Or women?”
“I happen to have an MBA, not that it’s any of your business.”
She had already known that, thanks to her research, but the point was, she knew very well what Jackson King considered most important in his life. And it wasn’t intellectual pursuits.
“It doesn’t really matter anymore,” Casey said with a sigh. “I love my daughter and I don’t care who her father is.”
“Yet, as soon as you found out her father was Jackson King,” he countered, “you came to me. So what’s this little meeting really about?”
“I beg your pardon?” She sounded as stuffy as her late aunt Grace.
“You heard me, Casey Davis. You came here to present me with my daughter—”
“My daughter,” she corrected, wondering why this conversation was suddenly feeling like more than a verbal battle.
“So it makes a man wonder, just what it is you really want from me? Money?” He reached into the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out a black leather wallet. “How much are you after? Looking for some child support? Is that what this is about?”
“That is just typical,” she said, feeling a slow burn of anger start to build within. “Of course you think this is about money. That’s how you see the world, isn’t it? Well, I already told you, I don’t want anything from you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She hissed in a breath and devoutly wished she’d never told him about Mia. “You can think whatever you like. I can’t stop you. But I can leave. This little conversation is over.”
Turning in her seat, she unstrapped her baby from the booster chair, lifted Mia into her arms and cuddled her close as she scooted out of the booth. Feeling Mia’s warmth against her was a soothing balm to the anger churning inside her. It didn’t matter what Jackson King thought or did. She’d done the right thing, now she could put him behind her. She could concentrate on her daughter.
When she was standing, her purse hanging from her shoulder to slap against her jean-clad thigh, Casey looked down at Jackson. And this time there was pity in her eyes. Because he couldn’t grasp just how much he was missing, not knowing the child he’d helped create.
“I thought you had a right to know that you’d helped make this beautiful little girl possible, whether or not it was done willingly,” she said, disgust pumping into her words. “But I can see now that was a mistake. Don’t worry though, Jackson. Mia will never know that her father thought so little of her.”
“Is that right?” He smiled up at her, clearly believing her outrage just another part of the act. “What will you tell her about me?”
“I’ll tell her you’re dead,” Casey said quietly. “Because as far as I’m concerned, you are.”
Four
She moved fast, he’d give her that.
But then, shock had slowed him down a little, too.
Jackson was only a step or two behind her, raw emotion pumping through his system. He couldn’t even believe what was happening. At thirty-one years old, he was a father. To a little girl who’d been alive for nearly a year and he hadn’t known it. What the hell was a man supposed to do with information like that?
His gaze fixed on Casey as she hurried across the parking lot and even as furious as he was, he couldn’t stop himself from admiring the rear view of her. Her jeans clung to her behind and her legs like a second skin and instantly, lust roared up inside and kept time with the anger frothing in his gut.
Casey was already at her car, putting the baby into a car seat when he caught up with her. A cold ocean wind slapped at him as he approached, almost as if someone, somewhere was trying to keep him at a distance.
Well the hell with that.
“You can’t just drop this bomb on me, then walk away.”
She flipped her head around, froze him with a hard look and muttered, “Watch me.”
He glanced at the baby, who was watching them both through wide brown eyes. After being around his nieces for several months, Jackson recognized the expression on the baby’s face. The tiny girl looked confused and on the verge of tears. Not what he wanted. So he lowered his voice, tried to force a smile into place and said, “Look, you surprised me. Sandbagged me. And I think you know it.”
Casey paid no attention to him, instead, she struggled with the straps on the car seat. “This stupid thing always gives me fits.”
He didn’t want to talk about the car seat. Getting more impatient by the minute, he finally took hold of Casey’s arm, ignored the instant sizzle that touching her caused, pulled her back and said “Let me do it.”
She laughed. “How do you know anything about infant car seats?”
“I have two nieces,” he muttered, not bothering to glance at her.
He’d had plenty of practice over the last year, dealing with all of the accoutrements that seemed to come along with a baby. Emma had more luggage than her parents and in a few short months, Katie’s toys and necessities had completely taken over the vineyard.
In seconds, he had the buckles snapped securely. He looked at his daughter and tried to wrap his brain around that simple fact. Didn’t work. Still, he traced one finger down the baby’s cheek and got a giggle for his trouble. His heart ached with a completely unfamiliar feeling as he looked into eyes so like his own.
When he backed out of the car, he was still smiling until he caught the fiery look in Casey’s eyes.
“Thanks,” she said quickly, then pushed past him to close the car door and walk around to the driver’s seat.