His-and-Hers Family. Helen Lacey

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      Fiona quickly explained how she’d agreed to a closed adoption and who Wyatt Harper was.

      “Are you sure he’s telling the truth?” Callie asked once they were settled on the sofa, each with a coffee cup between their hands.

      “Yes. He has Cecily’s birth certificate and he says she looks just like me.”

      Callie looked at her over the rim of her cup. “Did you ask to see a picture?”

      Fiona shook her head. “No … I wasn’t sure I could bear seeing her photograph. In case I never get to see her for real. Does that make sense?”

      Her friend nodded gently. “So what are you going to do about it?”

      Fiona shrugged. “I’m not sure. That’s to say, I’m not sure what he’s going to do about it.”

      “You have rights,” Callie said. “She’s your child.”

      “A child I gave away. Wyatt Harper is the one with all the rights. He’s her legal guardian. He’s who her parents entrusted to care for her.”

      “But you said she doesn’t live with him?”

      “She lives mostly with her grandparents. But from what he said, I’m guessing they’re a close-knit bunch. He runs the family business, and his parents are retired, so they’d have more time to look after her. His younger sister lives there also.”

      “Must be a big house.”

      “It’s a hundred-acre property,” she explained. “His father runs a small herd of Wagyu cattle—his mother dabbles in showing orchids. They’re squeaky-clean and look like the perfect family.”

      “And he’s what, thirtysomething and single and now a part-time parent to a teenage girl?” Callie rolled her big eyes. “Nothing is that perfect.”

      “He seems like one of those annoyingly self-sufficient men who can handle everything. I’m sure one little teenager wouldn’t bring him down.”

      Callie smiled. “He is very nice-looking. Not that you’d ever be swayed by a handsome face.”

      “Er … no.”

      “Maybe you should see a lawyer?” Callie suggested. “I mean, he hasn’t contacted you since yesterday—for all you know he’s gone back to Sydney.”

      “I don’t think so. He wanted something and he didn’t get it. I don’t think he’s the kind of man who retreats easily, and I didn’t exactly leave him on friendly terms.” She smiled when she saw her friend’s look. “Yeah, I lost my temper.”

      Callie’s expression softened. “So, how do you feel about it? I mean, how do you feel about reconnecting with your daughter after so long?”

      Fiona sucked in some air. “Confused and shocked. I always had hope but I tried not to get swept away with the idea of meeting her one day. It was too painful. But now it’s a reality … and I’m scared. Because I’m still the person who gave her away.” She expelled a heavy breath. “What must she think of me?”

      Callie made a reassuring sound. “You were young—not much older than she is now. She’ll understand once you explain. She’s come looking for you, Fiona. That’s a positive sign.”

      Fiona hoped so. But she had doubts. Reservations. What if Cecily didn’t understand? What if all their reconnecting did was to upset her daughter? She didn’t want that. Cecily had lost her parents, and Fiona didn’t want to do anything that might add to her pain.

      When her friend left about ten minutes later, Fiona, tired of looking like a washed-out rag, took a long shower. Once done, she finger-combed her hair, changed into comfy sweats and fed the dog. She had some assignments to grade and curled up on the sofa with her work and a fresh mug of coffee. She was about halfway through her pile of papers when Muffin started growling and rushed toward the front door after the bell rang.

      When she pulled the door back, she found Wyatt Harper standing on the other side of the screen.

      “Hello,” he said casually, belying the sudden awareness that swirled between them.

      She stepped back on her heels and ignored the way her heart seemed to be beating a little faster than usual. “What do you want?”

      He held up a bag. “Dinner.”

      “I don’t think—”

      “For three,” he said, cutting her off. “In case you have company.”

      “I’m alone,” she said as her suspicions soared. “And I’m not hungry.”

      He raised both brows. “Are you sure?”

      Fiona fought the impulse to close the door. She didn’t want to be nice to him. But she wanted to know more about her daughter, and he was the key.

      “You can come in.” She stood to the side and allowed him to cross the threshold.

      He wore beige cargoes and a black golf shirt, and she couldn’t stop herself from checking him out. Okay, so the man had a nice body. She wasn’t a rock. She was a perfectly normal woman reacting to a good-looking man. She wasn’t about to beat herself up about it.

      “Thank you,” he said and walked past her. “Where do you want this?” he asked as he motioned to the bag in his hand. “Chinese. A bit of everything because I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

      “The kitchen,” she replied as she shut the door and then frowned as Muffin, the traitor, jumped up and down excitedly by Wyatt’s feet, demanding attention. “This way.”

      He patted the dog for a moment before following her. When they reached the kitchen, Fiona stood on one side of the small square table and waited for him to take his place on the other side. She needed something between them.

      She watched as he unloaded half a dozen small containers from the bag, then pulled out two sets of cutlery and a couple of serving spoons and grabbed two beers from the fridge. “Only light beer, I’m afraid.”

      “No problem.”

      Fiona placed everything on the table and scraped a chair across the tiled floor. “How did you know I’d be home tonight?”

      He shrugged. “I didn’t. I took a chance. It’s a school night … and I figured you’d stay in.”

      Fiona pushed both beers toward him and he disposed of the caps quickly. “Actually, I didn’t work today.” When he didn’t respond, she explained. “I wasn’t much good for anything after our conversation yesterday.”

      He pushed a beer back toward her. “That’s honest.”

      “One of my many flaws,” she said and took a small sip. “I have plenty. I often blurt things out before I think about what I’m saying. And I have a bad temper.”

      His blue eyes shone brilliantly. “Really?”

      Fiona started СКАЧАТЬ