“I know you’re dying to call your father,” Jake said when they walked inside his condo . . . their condo? “Let’s get you in the shower first so you’re not picking at pieces of sand stuck to your legs while you’re talking to him.”
The next thirty minutes, she was treated like a princess as he bathed her, washed her hair, dried her, and wrapped her into a fluffy white robe that still had a tag on it, explaining his mom had given it to him one Christmas. Obviously, he’d never worn it and just as obviously—and pleasing—no other woman had.
When he leaned back and looked her over as if approving his work, she put her hands on his shoulders, lifted up on her toes, and kissed him. “I love you,” she said as her lips brushed over his. He made a little growling noise and clasped her bottom with his hands, pulling her against him. Their tongues tangled for a few moments before he gave her bottom a little slap.
“Go make that call. I have plans for you the minute you hang up.”
“He really wants to talk to me?”
Jake flicked a finger under her chin. “Yes, he really does. His number’s on the coffee table. Go on.” He gave her a little push.
“Aren’t you coming with me?” She needed him beside her for moral support.
“No, I need to throw some clothes on, then check my e-mail.”
He was purposely giving her privacy, but she wanted him with her. “I’ll wait. Besides, I like watching you get dressed, especially the part where you remove the towel.”
Hazel eyes instantly heated. “Then we’ll never get around to your making that call. Go. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
The number was on the coffee table where he’d said it would be, and she stared at Miguel Garcia’s name. What should she call him? Could she ask him questions now, or should she wait until they met? Did he remember Lovey Dovey? Probably not. Had he ever wondered if he had another child somewhere in the world?
“I thought you’d be talking to him by now,” Jake said, setting two glasses of wine and a box of tissues on the table.
“I’m scared.” She was petrified to be honest. This was something she wanted too much and if she sensed Mr. Garcia—Miguel?—wasn’t particularly thrilled about learning of her existence, she’d be devastated. “I don’t even know what to call him.”
Without a word, Jake picked up the phone and dialed, then handed it to her. “Just say, hello, this is Maria.”
“Put it on speaker,” she said, surprised she could talk while her heart was in her throat.
It rang twice, then a man’s voice. “Is this Maria?”
No words came out of her mouth and she turned to Jake, panic welling up inside her.
He smiled and leaned toward the phone. “Miguel, this is Jake. Maria’s here, but she’s feeling a little shy. I think she’s worried you won’t like her.”
Maria punched him.
“Understandable,” a voice she liked very much said. “Jake said you look just like my second daughter, so how could I not like you?”
“You have another daughter? Jake only told me about Elena.” Thank God, she could speak after all.
An amused chuckle sounded from the phone. “Since you’re older, that would make you my first daughter, Maria.”
Oh. Oh. She’d not dared to hope he would think of her that way, at least not until someday down the road after he got to know her. “Thank you,” she whispered before her throat completely closed up and she really couldn’t utter a word.
“I’m only sorry I didn’t know about you sooner. Jake promised you’d send me some pictures of you. He also said you might come here soon and we’d get to meet. You probably have a lot of questions.”
Jake handed her a tissue and she swiped at her eyes. “He asked me to marry him tonight, Mr. . . . I don’t know what to call you.”
“What would you like to call me?”
“I don’t know.” That wasn’t true, she wanted to call him Dad but couldn’t bring herself to tell him.
“Elena calls me Papa, but if that’s too uncomfortable for you, maybe we can work up to it. How about Miguel for now?”
Papa. She liked how that sounded. “Okay. What I was going to say is, Jake asked me to marry him tonight, and we’d like to come to San Diego for our honeymoon. If that’s okay with you.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
They chatted for a few more minutes before agreeing to talk again in a few days. When they said good-bye, she could no longer hold back her tears. He’d hinted that he’d like to attend her wedding and that someday, he’d like her to call him Papa.