The CEO's Little Surprise(23)

She'd hoped to get her hands on his phone at some point this weekend,  but snooping through his private life felt a little dirty, so she  hadn't. So far. If he gave her any reason to, though...

Gage thunked back into his chair, his expression completely transformed  from the relaxed, easygoing one he'd worn earlier. Thunderclouds had  gathered in his eyes, turning his entire demeanor dark. "I have to  leave. I'm sorry to cut our weekend short."

"What's wrong?" she asked before she thought better of it. They weren't  a couple. They didn't share their problems. And no amount of yearning  for that type of relationship would change things.

"Something's happened." Bleakly, he met her gaze, and suddenly it  didn't matter if they weren't a couple. She reached out and captured his  hand. In comfort, solidarity, she didn't even know. She just couldn't  stop herself from touching him.

"What, Gage?" she asked softly, envisioning an accident involving his  parents, a fire at his production facility. The pallor of his skin  indicated it must be something bad.

"That was... I don't know for sure yet. I have to go home." He scrubbed  his face with his free hand as he gripped Cass's with his other.  "Someone I used to date died. Briana. That was her sister on the phone."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Cass's heart twisted in sympathy. The woman must  have been someone special for Gage to be so visibly upset. The thought  of him caring about a woman so deeply set her back a moment. Was she  missing something here? When had Gage become the committed sort?

"Thanks, I hadn't spoken to her in a long time. A year and a half."

Cass eyed him. "Then why would her sister have called you, if you don't mind me asking?"

Maybe that was the million-dollar question. Her curiosity burned. What  if he truly had turned into someone who stuck around, growing close to  this woman, and she'd been the one to dump him? Maybe he was nursing a  broken heart.                       
       
           



       

After all, they'd never really talked about what the future between the  two of them could look like. Maybe everything was within her reach if  she just-

"She called because Briana had a son." Gage blinked. "My son. Or so she says."

* * *

Gage's two-story house overlooked Lake Travis just outside of Austin.  It was one of the main reasons he'd bought the house several years ago  and the water had always spoken to him. After driving straight home from  Dallas in less than three hours-a record-he stood on the balcony, hands  braced on the railing surrounding the enclosure and stared at the gray  surface of the lake without really seeing it, wishing like hell the view  didn't remind him of Cass.

But it did because her house was similarly situated near White Rock  Lake in Dallas. He should be there with her right now, but wasn't  because his world had shifted into something unrecognizable, where a  paternity test was suddenly a part of his reality.

The woman who had called him was on her way over to discuss that very  thing. It was bizarre. If what she'd said was true, he'd fathered a  child with Briana.

Briana Miles. The name conjured up the image of a diminutive  brown-haired waitress he'd met at a sports bar not far from his house.  Beautiful girl. She'd come home to Austin after five years in LA and had  started waiting tables so she could put herself through college, hoping  to graduate without debt.

They'd struck up a conversation because Gage had expressed curiosity  about how the University of Texas had changed in the almost ten years  since he'd exited graduate school. That had led to a great couple of  days that had ended amicably. He hadn't heard from her since.

The doorbell pealed through the house, and Gage opened the door to a  short brown-haired woman with the swollen eyes and messy ponytail.  Lauren Miles shared features with Briana and he could see their family  resemblance even though he hadn't laid eyes on her sister in a year and a  half.

"Come in," he said woodenly.

"The courier dropped off the results of the paternity test you took."  She handed Gage the sealed envelope with her free hand. "I guess it's  true that if you have enough money, you can get anything done quickly."

He ripped the envelope open and his vision went a little gray. No question. He was a father.

Lauren perched on his couch but he couldn't sit down, not until he got the most important question answered.

"Why?" he burst out as he absently paced the strip of hardwood between  the couch and the fireplace. "Why didn't she tell me? I would have  helped her with the medical bills. Paid for diapers and teddy bears. I  would have-"

His throat seized.

Liked to be involved. But he couldn't finish the thought, not with the  way his chest had gotten so tight that he couldn't breathe. All this  time. Briana had been raising a baby without his help. Without even  bothering to tell him he'd fathered a son. He'd have supported her if  he'd known. She shouldn't have had to worry about anything.

And now it was too late.

Lauren bit her lip. "I argued with her about that. I really did. But  she insisted you wouldn't want the baby and she was scared you'd make  her have an abortion."

Gage's vision blacked out for a long minute. Rage tore through his  chest and he thought he'd lose it if he couldn't punch something. Make  her terminate her pregnancy?

Life was precious, so precious. That core belief was the one sole gift  Nicolas's death had given him. The fact that Briana didn't know that  about him infuriated him. Except how could he blame her? It spoke to the  shallowness of their relationship that she'd assumed he wouldn't want  his son.

Gradually, he uncurled his fists and breathed until he could speak.

"Fine, okay. I get that she didn't tell me because she-wrongly-assumed I  wouldn't support her decision to raise her child. Nothing could be  further from the truth. The baby is my responsibility and I appreciate  the fact that you've come to me so I can do the right thing."

His vision went dim again as he processed what the right thing actually  translated into. After years of cutting all ties with women as quickly  as possible, one had managed to hook him with the ultimate string. For a  guy who had no practice with commitment, he was about to get a crash  course.                       
       
           



       

He was a father. A single father. His child's mother was dead and he  had to step up. His carefree days of living life to the fullest had just  come to a screeching halt with a set of brakes called parenthood.

And he'd never even held his son. What was he going to do?

All at once, he wished he'd asked Cass to be here with him. It made no sense. But he wanted to hold her hand.

"About that." Lauren scooted to the edge of the couch, brow furrowed as  she leaned closer to Gage. "I'd like to formally adopt Robbie."

"Adopt him?" he parroted because his brain was having a hard time  processing. Lauren wasn't here to pass off Briana's son to his father?

"That's actually why I contacted you, to discuss the paperwork that my  lawyer is drawing up. You'll have to sign, of course, because you're the  legal father on record. But it's just a formality," she said quickly.  "I'm not asking for any child support or any split custody. He'd be all  mine and you can go about your life. I'm sure you're totally unprepared  to be a father."

It was as though she'd read his mind.

Something that felt an awful lot like relief washed through him. He'd  give her money, of course. That was nonnegotiable. But Lauren could pick  up where Briana left off and all of this would go away.

And the relief kicked off a pretty solid sense of shame. "So you want me to sign away all rights to my kid?"

"Well, yeah. Unless Briana was wrong and you are interested in being a  father?" she asked tremulously, as if afraid of the answer, and tears  welled up in her eyes. "You've never even met Robbie. I love him like my  own son. He's a piece of Briana and I can't imagine giving him up. It  would be best if he stayed with the family he's always known."

"I don't know if that is best," he admitted and his stomach rolled.

He should be agreeing with her. He should be asking her for papers to  sign. Right now. What better circumstances could he have hoped for than  to learn he had a son but someone else wanted him? It was practically a  done deal.

But he couldn't. Somehow, he'd developed a fierce need to see this kid  he'd fathered. He needed it to be real, and meeting his flesh and blood  was the only way he could sign those papers in good conscience.

"I didn't know my son existed before today," he heard himself saying as  if a remote third party had taken over his body and started spitting  out words without his permission. "And you're coming in here like it's  all already decided. How can I know what's best for him? I want to meet  him first."