Meant to Be Mine (A Porter Family Novel Book #2) (6 page)

He pushed his plate of food to the side, no longer hungry. Slowly, so he wouldn’t frighten her, he reached across the table for Celia’s sunglasses. She moved to stop him, then stilled, apparently deciding it wasn’t worth a wrestling match. He slipped them off and set them aside. She met his gaze, her expression troubled.

Those eyes. Pretty and almond shaped, green, surrounded by thick brown lashes.

“I’m sorry about what happened in Vegas, Celia.”

“Is that why you came all this way?”

He nodded. “Before our divorce is final, I needed to say that to you in person.”

“Okay. I’ve heard you.” Celia made a show of checking the time. “Now I’d really better go. I have an appointment.”

Fresh regret sank into him like a sharp-tipped dart.

She rose to her feet.

He rose to his. “Good-bye.”

She dipped her chin, then turned and walked away from him, her slim legs moving quickly.

He lowered to his chair and watched her climb into an old woodie car, the kind surfers drove in California. She reversed and took off.

“Excuse me.” A female voice.

He looked toward the three friends sitting at the next table. College girls? None could have been older than twenty.

“If that woman wants to divorce you, then she’s crazy,” the tallest one said, her eyes round.

“Nuts,” the shortest one agreed.

“You can come out with us tonight,” the third offered. “Have some fun.”

“I’d like that,” Ty answered, “but I’m just visiting. I’m leaving soon.”

Their faces fell.

He smiled at them. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome,” they replied simultaneously.

“Oh, shoot.” Their waitress walked up to the table. “Has she left already?”

“Yeah.”

“I wanted to invite her to the Memorial Day barbecue we’re having at River Run.” She placed a hand on her chest. “I’m the social coordinator for the apartment complex where we both live.”

“I see.”

She looked him up and down. “You’re welcome to come to the barbecue if you’d like.”

He’d been asked out twice in twenty seconds. “Thanks, but I won’t be in town that long.”

“Oh, okay. Sure.”

He asked for the check. She pulled it from her apron and moved away.

Ty stared without seeing at the place where Celia’s car had disappeared, remembering how furious he’d been with Tawny when he’d made that doomed trip to Vegas. Later, he’d realized that some part of him must have wanted to ruin his relationship with
Tawny. And that’s why he had. As soon as he’d ruined it, though, he’d been sorry. Sorry, too, that he’d used Celia to do it.

He’d never intended to marry or sleep with Celia or for her to find out about Tawny. He’d just intended for them to have fun together in Vegas for a few days, then go their separate ways. End of story. But that’s the thing about bad decisions—they had the power to take you farther than you’d planned to go. The chemistry between him and Celia had been way more powerful than he’d banked on, he’d acted like an idiot, and Celia had ended up married to a no-good man in love with someone else.

Pieces of conversations from the tables around him and the sound of plates being stacked filled the air.

He’d told Celia earlier that he hadn’t filed for divorce because he hadn’t had a reason. The truth? He’d had a reason not to file. He’d rather be shot, though, than admit his reason out loud—

Something on the ground caught his eye. He squinted and leaned over. A gold bracelet. Celia’s bracelet with the magnetic clasp. In all that toying with it, she must have undone it.

He picked it up and sat for a good while. Gradually, a smile overtook his mouth. Celia hadn’t intended to—and would probably be mad if she knew—but she’d just given him an opportunity to do her a small favor.

She’d given him a chance to return her bracelet.

And to see her one last time.

T
he River Run Apartments didn’t look like much.

Ty sat in his truck the morning after his lunch with Celia, eying the place. The whole complex was made up of connected one-story units. Gray siding and blue doors. The property didn’t look run-down or dirty, just boring. Its best feature was its nearness to the river, which cut through the land a hundred or so yards behind the complex. Green space and trees surrounded River Run’s other three sides. To get here, he’d turned off what passed for a main street in Corvallis, then taken a long driveway to the visitors’ parking lot.

Celia’s woodie car was nowhere in sight, so he figured she was away. He’d decided to wait for her return.

He leaned back in the driver’s seat and extended his arm against the door, letting his wrist drop out the open window. His fingertips tapped against the truck’s exterior. It had rained earlier, and now everything was damp and cool, with just enough sunlight to turn the puddles shiny. He’d seen lots of cars, birds, dog walkers, and bike riders this Sunday morning—

Wait. Was that Celia? He leaned forward, squinting. The woman walking toward him on the sidewalk was wearing a loose pink sweater over a white tank top and jeans, something Celia would
wear. Brown curls. The right build. He’d expected her to drive onto the property, but here she came on foot. Strange. Where was her car? And why did she have a child with her?

Celia was holding hands with a little girl. They had on matching pairs of purple rain boots with pink polka dots on them.

Ty exited his truck and made his way in their direction. Was the kid a friend’s child? A niece? Maybe Celia’s “little sister” in one of those charity programs?

When Ty was about ten steps away, Celia glanced in his direction. She immediately pulled the girl to a stop.

“Good morning.” He crossed the remaining distance.

“Good morning,” the girl answered. When Celia said nothing, the girl looked up at her with confusion.

Celia stared at him, her face going completely white.

“What’s the matter?” Ty asked. “You all right?”

“I’m fine. I . . .” She leaned toward the girl. “I just realized that I left . . . my umbrella behind. Would you mind running back and getting it? I’ll be right behind you.”

“The door’s locked.”

“Here.” Celia pulled a ring of keys from her pocket and pressed them into the girl’s hand.

The kid shook her head.

“It’s okay.” Celia faced the girl in the direction of the apartments and gave her a gentle push.

The kid turned back toward her. “You don’t let me unlock the door by myself.”

“This time I will.”

“I don’t want to go.” She stuffed the keys into Celia’s jeans and wrapped her arms around Celia’s thigh. She had on a pair of light blue glasses. Colors striped her long-sleeved dress and her pants.

Celia’s attention remained on the child for a few long seconds, then slowly lifted to his face. She looked like someone who wanted to beat the daylights out of him but felt the need to pretend politeness in front of the kid. “I’m surprised to see you here, Ty. I thought we’d said good-bye yesterday.”

“We did.” He pulled the bracelet from his pocket and extended it to her. “But you dropped this and left it behind. I wanted to return it to you.”

The little girl’s eyebrows rose.

Celia took the bracelet from him and snapped it onto her wrist. “Thank you.” She gave him the tightest smile he’d ever seen. “That was nice of you. Well. ’Bye.”

The child tapped on Celia’s arm.

Celia gave her a “not now” look.

The girl tugged Celia downward, then cupped a hand around Celia’s ear. “It’s just like in Cinderella,” she whispered loudly. “’Member how Cinderella left the glass sipper at the ball and Prince Charming had to find her to give it back? He found you to give your bracelet back.”

Celia might hate his guts, but the kid was comparing him to a prince. “I don’t think I’ve met you yet.” He smiled at the girl. “I’m Ty. What’s your name?”

“Addie Porter.”

A white void opened inside his head. A car drove by, its wheels creating short fans of water. The trees rustled with wind. He took in the sight of her, this girl in bright clothes and glasses. Cute and small. Straight, dark blond hair. Green eyes. He’d no idea how old she was or why she called herself by his last name. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

“Addie Porter,” she answered. “This is my mom.”

My God
, Ty thought.

He glanced at Celia in time to see her eyelids sink closed with despair. A pulse went through him then, painful and ice-cold, as if he’d touched a live electrical wire. This girl, this Addie, could not be
his
child. Surely.

Celia was still married to him. But that didn’t mean she hadn’t had a child with someone else. He knew nothing about her life in the years since he’d seen her.

Through the roaring vacuum of his thoughts, he noticed Addie watching him, waiting for him to say something normal. “Nice to meet you, Addie.”

“You too.” She looked back and forth between the two adults, finally settling on Celia. “Mom?”

“It’s all right, Addie. I know Ty from years ago.”

“He brought you your bracelet,” she insisted, still trying to talk Celia into liking him.

“I know he did.” Celia tugged her cell phone from her back pocket and quickly typed a text with an unsteady hand. “Addie, I’m going to need to talk to Ty for a little bit. And I just remembered that Uncle Danny wanted to take you on another bike ride today. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” Fake excitement filled her voice.

Addie’s expression said she wasn’t buying it.

Ty walked alongside them as they headed back to their apartment. Two adults with a tornado of tension between them and one kid. Ty had never once imagined that Celia had had a child. Especially one that reminded him a little of his sister, Dru, at that age.

The icy pulse slashed through him again.

Celia started asking Addie pretend-happy questions about her upcoming bike ride with her uncle. Ty remained silent, his gut churning, his temper rising. They took a path around one corner of the complex to an apartment that faced trees and tenant parking spaces.

Celia let them into an undersized living room. Hallway on one side. Kitchen and kitchen table on the other. At the back, sliding doors emptied into a miniature backyard full of color and plants.

Celia, her brows drawn together, watched Addie. Addie, her brows drawn together, watched him. “This is our house,” Addie said.

“It’s nice.” In fact, there were so many colors and patterns going on that it looked like a circus. His mom—yikes, he couldn’t bear to think about his mom right now—had raised him in a house packed full of stuff. Maybe that’s why he’d gone the opposite way. He liked his rooms plain so he could think.

“Would you like to see my artwork?”

“Sure.”

Addie led him to the kitchen and pointed at the fridge. “I did
this one at my school—well, my preschool. I’m going to start kindergarten soon. It’s a princess, see? She’s wearing a tiara and a purple ball dress. . . .”

She continued. Not with chatter, but with a kind of shy seriousness. Ty found it hard to hear her, to focus. The refrigerator door was covered with all kinds of things. Pictures of Addie as a baby, as a toddler. Pictures of Celia and Addie together. Invitations. Certificates.

Over Addie’s voice, he registered the front door opening and closing. Murmured talking. A few moments later, Celia brought over a man who looked like Crocodile Dundee.

“Ty, this is my uncle, Danny Sullivan.”

Ty extended his hand and they shook. Danny, who didn’t appear to be the type to worry about anything, had worry in his eyes. “How are you Addie Potaddie?”

Addie gave him a fist bump. “I’m cool. Are we leaving now?”

“Sure are.” Danny rubbed his hands together as if he couldn’t wait for the bike ride that had been shoved at him. “You ready?”

Danny and Celia guided Addie to the door while talking about helmets, where the two were headed, and when they’d be back.

At the last second, Addie paused on the threshold to look back at Ty. “’Bye.”

“’Bye.”

Then she and Danny were gone.

Celia closed the door, shutting the two of them into a house gone deadly still and quiet.

“Whose child is that?” Ty asked, his emotions and confusion barely controlled.

Celia sank onto the nearest chair. She looked at the rug and covered the lower half of her face with her hands. Her chest rose and fell unevenly.

Ty gave her all the time he could spare. “Whose child is that, Celia?”

Slowly, as if everything inside of her ached, she pushed herself to standing. She looked him right in the eyes. “Mine.”

“Who is her father?”

She didn’t speak, but the trace of guilt in her expression gave him her answer.

His stomach pitched. “I’m not that child’s father, am I? If I were, you’d have told me about her a long time ago. Right? You wouldn’t have let me live my life without knowing something so important.”

Her sigh broke.

He pushed his hands through his hair. Dropped his arms. “Am I Addie’s father?”

“Yes.”

She’d replied to him with a single word, but that one word changed everything. Who he’d thought he was. His life. His future. “We were only together one night.”

“Apparently one night was all it took.”

How was that possible? He had buddies who’d been trying for years to have a baby with their wives. “I’m supposed to believe that?”

“No. You don’t have to believe it.”

“What—what proof do you have that she’s mine?”

“None.”

“When was she born?”

“Eight and a half months after our wedding night and a couple weeks before her due date.”

He thought back over all the years, one on top of another, that had passed since then. All those pictures on the fridge. A baby with hair that stood straight up. A little girl riding a trike. A bigger girl in a princess costume. He wanted to yell. “If this is true . . . if she’s mine, then why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Because I didn’t want you to be a part of our lives.”

“Didn’t you think I had a right to know?” His voice climbed in volume.

“No.”

“I could have helped you,” he accused. “Have you followed my career at all?”

“No.”

Shortly after Vegas he’d joined the Bull Riders Professional Circuit. He’d been good to the BRPC, and the BRPC had been good to him. “If you had followed it, you’d have known that I could have provided more for her than this.” He gestured to the apartment.

Celia bristled. “More isn’t necessarily better.”

“What about growing up without a father? Do you view that as better?”

“Until recently, Addie was too young to realize that other kids had fathers. She’s never lacked for anything.”

He tilted his head. Fury pushed against him from the inside.

“You had your freedom, Ty, and I had Addie. It seemed fair to me.”

“You talked with me on the phone a couple days ago. You sat down at a table across from me yesterday. Both times you didn’t say anything about Addie. You were going to let me leave without ever telling me.”

She didn’t deny it.

“I hurt you,” he said, “and so you kept my daughter from me.”

“Yes, I did.” She glared at him. “I did. I didn’t trust you to be good to her.” The air snapped, anger a tangible thing in the room with them. “Go ahead and leave, Ty. You can keep on traveling and riding bulls and whatever else it is that you do. Addie doesn’t know anything about you yet. We’ll divorce, and you’ll marry Tawny and have a family of your own. I promise you that I’ll never contact you or ask you for anything.”

Muscles knotted down his neck. “If you think I’d
ever
walk away from a child of mine, then you don’t know me at all.”

“I’m offering you an easy way out.”

“And I’m not taking it,” he said flatly. “I want a paternity test.”

She drew back, her face defensive.

“If I have to bring in a whole firm of attorneys to make it happen, I will. Am I going to need to do that?”

“No.”

He could tell that the threat of lawyers had scared her. “If the paternity test proves that I’m her father, I’ll let you tell her. But she
is
going to be told, and she’s going to be told right away.”

Celia’s hand lifted to her neck, her fingertips bending into the skin.

“Then we’ll work out custody.” He strode through the front door, banging it behind him.

Ty didn’t know what to do with himself.

He ended up returning to his hotel. He pulled on work-out clothes and headed for the treadmill in his hotel’s gym.

He ran. His head filled with one enraged thought after another. His chest burned with emptiness. He kept upping the speed. Still didn’t help. His feet pounded the belt. Sweat rained off him. He had no way of comprehending the turn his life had taken today. He had no skills for dealing with the discovery of a daughter he didn’t know.

After an hour, he showered. Still feeling murderous, he climbed into his truck and started driving. He took aimless turns until he stumbled onto a highway. When the highway brought him to the Pacific coast, he pointed the truck north.