The Blackstone Heir. Dani Wade

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      But the blank look on her face told him she wasn’t into reminiscing. How much of a glutton for punishment was he willing to be?

      “Come on, KC. Even as a friend, don’t I deserve an answer?”

      “I thought silence was my answer.”

      Burn. “Right.”

      For just a moment, the blankness slipped, revealing a flash of emotion that he couldn’t interpret before it disappeared. But it revealed one important clue: indifference wasn’t the problem.

      So what was she hiding?

      The KC he’d known had been all on the outside, open with her emotions and actions. This closed-off version made him curious...and angry.

      What had stripped away her joy, her spontaneity? Whatever it was, her attitude seemed to be reserved solely for him. He’d been watching her flirt and smile with other customers for an hour. The minute he’d appeared in front of her—shutdown.

      Funny thing was, her spontaneity was one of the main things that drew him—and the one thing that had always kept him distant. Just thinking about living with uncertainty brought the barriers up. Other people found that kind of living by the seat of your pants exciting. He had enough of the unexpected in his life dealing with his twin; he didn’t need more on a permanent basis. Luke’s need for speed was as far from Jacob’s scheduled existence as one could be from the other. Not to mention that his high-risk career as a race-car driver worried Jacob a lot.

      So again he had to ask: Why was he sitting here instead of celebrating his freedom from his own version of risk?

      “Was it because of this mystery man? Did you move to be with him?” Though the thought of her finding someone else hurt, maybe it was for the best. He needed something to break this incredible, horrible addiction.

      She leaned closer, bracing against the bar. With her petite frame, the edge hit her higher than her waist, which gave him a really good view of her breasts in her tight Lola’s T-shirt.

      He was only human. Of course he looked.

      Wait, was he seeing things? Because she seemed curvier than he remembered.

      “Jacob,” she said, drawing his gaze upward to her expectant face. Luckily she didn’t call him on where he’d been looking. “Look, let’s not do this here, okay? Another time, maybe.”

      “Why?” And why was he continuing to push this? “Is he here?”

      “No, Jacob, that’s not it.”

      The sudden sound of a phone ringing didn’t register at first. After all, the bar was full of music, laughter and talking from the Friday-evening crowd. But the ringtone was persistent, and gained volume until he couldn’t miss it. KC pulled out her phone and took one look at the display before answering.

      She turned away, taking a few steps down the bar while she talked. He would have thought she’d completely dismissed him, except for the quick glances she kept shooting his way. After a few words he couldn’t hear, she disconnected. Then she simply walked away.

      His body mourned. His sensibilities raged. What did he have to do to get a simple explanation? Something more than “I’m sorry.” Was that really too much to ask?

      Determined to get answers, he stood up and strode after her. He came around the far side of the bar to catch a quick glimpse of her slipping out the back door. He knew her mother and grandmother lived in a small house behind the bar, so that must be where she was heading. If he intercepted her on her way back in, he could confront her without an audience.

      All the better.

      He could just make out her figure in the darkness as he made his way outside. Her body was silhouetted in the porch light from her family’s house. He slowed his long stride. As she mounted the steps, the door opened and a woman who looked enough like her to be her mother stepped out.

      That was when he heard another noise. But what caught his attention in that moment was what the older woman was holding.

      A crying baby.

      Jacob’s world narrowed to the child.

      “Goodness, girl.” The voice of KC’s mother drifted to where he stood in the darkness. “I can’t get Carter to stop crying for nothing. He wants his mama and no one else.”

      Jacob’s legs carried him closer, his brain on hold as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

      KC reached for the baby with the ease of a woman familiar with the move. The crying stopped almost immediately as she snuggled the child close into the crook of her neck. So natural. So beautiful.

      So his.

      The knowledge exploded over him in a wave of heat. As she swayed in the porch light, Jacob couldn’t look away from the unusual dark golden curls that covered the baby’s head.

      “My brother and I had those same kind of curls,” he murmured inanely.

      In the newfound silence, they must have heard. KC jerked around to face him. But it was her mother Jacob found himself watching as the older woman’s rounded eyes confirmed the suspicions in Jacob’s whirling brain.

      “KC,” she said sharply, then stepped back through the door into the house.

      KC didn’t look in his direction again. She disappeared through the yellow rectangle of light in the entrance before slamming the door behind her, leaving Jacob alone in the dark.

      It took a moment to get his feet to obey. As if by remote control, they carried him back to his brothers. He sank into the seat without really feeling it, seeing any of it. The numbness kept him from thinking, from dealing with the reality of what he’d just seen.

      The bubble burst as he looked across the booth at his twin brother. Instantly, images of photographs from their childhood flooded his brain. Two boys, both with that thick dark blond hair. Curls all over until they’d gotten old enough to tame them.

      “Jacob?” Luke said, hunching forward into his line of vision. “Jacob, are you okay? Where’d you go?”

      Reaching out, Jacob picked up his half-full glass of wine and lifted it to his lips to perform the ultimate wine drinker’s depravity. He chugged until every single drop was gone.

      Then he set the glass down carefully and lay his palm flat beside it, praying the solidity of the table would ground him in the spinning room.

      Luke lay his own palm on the table, mirroring Jacob’s. “You cool?” Their version of letting each other know they were there.

      And just like that, the words came to him, along with the anger. “I think I’m a daddy.”

       Two

      Twenty-four hours later, Jacob finally stopped seething enough to confront KC. When he’d imagined what it would be like to find out he was going to be a parent, he’d pictured being across the table from his wife at an intimate СКАЧАТЬ