No one is at his grave, but the fresh-cut mixed flowers suggest he had visitors not long ago. Maybe this morning. Maybe yesterday.His wife.I’ve learned over the past few years it’s her signature bouquet.
I crouch in front of his plot and place my hand on the patchy spring grass. “I see Aurora was here. Does she still blame me as much as I blame myself for what happened?” Do his kids hate me for failing to save their father?
Silence sits like a lead weight on my back. Not even a bird responds to my question.
I lower my ass to the ground and remember the laughter and jokes and sharing of stories during our last deployment. Clarke and Cooper were two of my closest friends in the Marines. My brothers. The men who stuck with me during our darkest days.
“Remember Kenda, the woman I told you about?” I ask Clarke’s grave.
“How come you never put a ring on her finger?” Clarkehad teased when he first saw the photo of her. Kenda and I had long since broken up, but I kept a laminated photo of Kenda, Zara, and me in my duffel bag at the base. He had seen it in the bag and snatched it out before I could stop him.
“Because she’s got big ambitions that don’t include being tied to my sorry ass.” I grabbed the photo from him, my gaze grazing over the two gorgeous women smiling up at me. It had been taken during our junior year of college. A fuchsia scarf secured Zara’s hair, a few coils teasing the sides of her face. Kenda’s medium-length Afro showed off her high cheekbones.
Clarke laughed. “So, she’s as smart as she is pretty.”
The photo was whipped from my hand. I spun around to find Tyson staring down at it, a hungry gleam in his eyes. “Who’s the other hot one?”
His expression gave away the dirty thoughts crossing his mind, and a protectiveness reared up in me.The hell. “Zara. But don’t even think whatI know you’re thinking. She’s a good friend of mine who deserves better than the likes of you.” A low snarl brushed my tone. Not exactly what I was aiming for.
A burst of laughter boomed in the room from the two men, along with Cooper.
“Possessive, huh?” Cooper chuckled. “You sure you don’t have something going with that hot piece of meat?”
“She’s a woman. She’s not a chuck roast.”
“Oooh, someone is possessive.”
“Not possessive. It’s just my mother taught me to respect women.”
Clarke snickered. “Someone’s protesting a little too much.”
“Agreed.” Tyson’s smirk was too wide for my liking.
I rolled my eyes. “Zara’s been my best friend since elementary school. So it’s definitely not like that between us.”
Cooper’s snorted laugh almost had me rolling my eyes again. “According to my sister, who reads, lives, and breathes romance books, those are the ones who make the best lovers. The best friends to lovers.”
Yeah, Emily—one of my other childhood friends—had said something like that a few months ago. But I don’t think she was referring to the same sort of lover Cooper was.
“Whatever,” I grumbled. “Anyway, Zara is off-limits to you.” The words had been directed at Tyson. The other two men had wives back home.
A crow caws somewhere nearby, snapping me to the present. “Anyway,” I tell Clarke’s grave, “I hooked up with Kenda over two years ago…and I might have knocked her up.” I tell him the rest of the story. “Peony is the sweetest thing, pretty like her mother. But she’s also scared of me, which makes getting to know her more challenging. If she is my kid.”
Water droplets hit the exposed skin on my arms. I glance up at the darkening sky. “Do I think she’s my daughter? Now that I’m coming to terms with everything, I do. It’s not—wasn’t like Kenda to lie about something like that. But I need to be positive she’s mine. Otherwise, there’s another man who’s being denied the chance to get to know his daughter.”
What if another man is Peony’s father, but there’s a reason Kenda told me in the letter that Peony is my daughter? Did she tell me that so I couldprotect Peony? And if that’s the case, why did she believe her daughter needs protecting?
Now that I’ve had time to absorb the news, I’m fairly certain Peony is my daughter. But even so, I can’t ignore the other scenario is possible. Hence the need for the paternity test.
“You want to know the weirdest part?” The wind picks up, ruffling the flower petals. “For a second, I felt a flicker of joy at the news that I could have a daughter.” I laugh, the sound harsher than the deep howl of the wind. “How crazy is that? But how can I be a father? What if I fail Peony like I failed you and Cooper? Like I failed Kenda?”
Peony deserves someone better than me for a father. Someone who won’t let her down.
As if in agreement, the sky opens up in a deluge of rain.
9
GARRETT
