She stiffened, but he forged on, owing her the complete truth.
"But not anymore. Now I find myself wanting to know more about her. She's a great kid-warm, funny, smart. She respects you, and it's obvious she loves her life. So, my answer is I do enjoy being with her. And you. This is still new to me, though, so I may do some stumbling, but I'm not trying to be nice to Becca to get to you."
She nodded, her shoulders relaxing. "I needed to hear that," she admitted. "It wouldn't be fair to either of us if you were pretending."
"I can't pretend," he said simply. "I never could."
Her lips parted. He reached out to snag her hand across the table, desperately craving contact. Her graceful fingers slid through his, her sleek, colorful nails giving him just a hint of a bite.
"I don't want to be that guy who tries to force my company on your child to score points. She needs to get to know me just as much, so she doesn't feel overwhelmed. She's been more comfortable with Cal and Dalton, since I've never really taken the time to get to know her. I'm willing to take my time now, Syd. In fact, it's important to me."
He enjoyed the light in her beautiful eyes; the firm grip of her hand in his. The moment was to be savored: the loud music and laughter in the background, the smell of bacon and beer, the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with a woman who meant something. His life had been a roller coaster. It was nice to once again realize the simple pleasures were everything.
He only wanted more.
But certain questions still burned in his mind. With her hand tucked in his, he skirted around the issue that had bothered him for the past two years, trying to find an inroad. "I know you don't like talking about your previous marriage," he said calmly. "But I wanted to ask you why he doesn't want anything to do with Becca. Why won't he be at her birthday party?"
Her mouth opened, then shut. She seemed to be gathering her strength to answer, but her voice was firm when she finally spoke. "Jason lives overseas now and remarried. We decided it would be best for him not to confuse Becca, so he stays out of both our lives." A fierce light glimmered in her green eyes. "Becca belongs to me."
"But he's her father! Does he even call? Check on her? Ask for pictures?"
She yanked her hand back as if she'd been burned. "No. Please let it go for now. This is not the time to talk about it."
A curse blistered from his lips. He stared at her, knowing there was more to the story. But this wasn't the place-not with Becca here and no time to really delve into the past. He'd let her keep her secrets, but to move forward, they needed to trust each other again. Honesty was key.
"Fine. I'll let it go. For now."
She let out a breath. "Thank you."
He nodded and deliberately took her hand back in his. Her gaze was pure stubbornness, as if she was deciding whether or not to allow him to keep touching her, but then her muscles relaxed and a hint of a smile curved her lips.
Good. It was time she learned he wasn't going anywhere.
Becca ran back to the table, jumping up and down as the first stanza of Britney's classic schoolgirl hit blasted from the speakers. He pretended to know the lyrics, singing off-key and butchering the song so badly she broke into hysterics.
Maybe it was better this way. They were forging a new future, and that would take trust. Her marriage was in the past, and dredging up old memories sometimes wasn't the best way to create something brand-new.
He pushed aside the niggling worry in his gut and concentrated on enjoying his time with both of them.
"That was fun."
Sydney turned to her daughter, who'd paused on her way to her room. She'd shrugged off her pink cardigan, kicked off her sneakers, and now regarded Sydney with a curiosity that had never been in evidence before.
Sydney tried to act casual. "You've always liked Tristan, right, honey?"
Her daughter nodded, her red curls flopping with the normal enthusiasm of youth. "Sure. He never talked to me as much as Uncle Cal and Uncle Dalton, though."
Nerves ripped through her. Sydney leaned against the counter, wondering how deep this conversation would go. Wondering if this was the time to have a talk. "True. Did that bother you?"
Becca shrugged. "No, I just didn't know he was so funny and nice." She tilted her head, as if coming to a decision. "I think I'm going to call him Uncle Tristan now. He took me to the recital and gave me flowers."
She chose her words carefully. "I think if you feel comfortable, that's a good idea."
"I saw you holding hands. Are you dating?"
Sydney's legs crumpled under her. She had to fight her way back to a standing position, leaning more heavily against the counter. "What? Where did you hear that? How do you know about dating?"