Hugh (Single Dads of Gaynor Beach Book 4) E-Book

Gabbi Grey

• Herausgeber: WS
• Serie: Single Dads of Gaynor Beach
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 432

Beschreibung

Hugh

Having spent more than twenty years as an emergency medicine physician in war zones around the world, I barely have a home to speak of. A daughter I didn’t know about has died and left a child behind, so I must get to Gaynor Beach, California to claim my granddaughter. Her temporary guardian is the first man to spark my interest in a very long time, but it would be inappropriate for me to have a relationship with this much-younger man.

Oscar

Gutted by my best friend’s death, I take solace in the daughter she left in my guardianship. I’ll protect this precious baby with all I have, and no one is going to take her away from me—least of all the man who turns up on our doorstep claiming to be her grandfather. Despite the resemblance, I plan to keep him at arm’s length. I’m going to show him how capable I am. But I might also lose my heart in the process.

This is an 85k word, hurt/comfort, interracial, age-gap, MM romance novel with a moderate amount of angst.

Leseprobe

HUGH

SINGLE DADS OF GAYNOR BEACH

GABBI GREY

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Next in the Gaynor Beach Series

Also set in Gaynor Beach

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Copyright © 2022 by Gabbi Grey

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

BLURB

HUGH

Having spent more than twenty years as an emergency medicine physician in war zones around the world, I barely have a home to speak of. A daughter I didn’t know about has died and left a child behind, so I must get to Gaynor Beach, California to claim my granddaughter. Her temporary guardian is the first man to spark my interest in a very long time, but it would be inappropriate for me to have a relationship with this much-younger man.

OSCAR

Gutted by my best friend’s death, I take solace in the daughter she left in my guardianship. I’ll protect this precious baby with all I have, and no one is going to take her away from me—least of all the man who turns up on our doorstep claiming to be her grandfather. Despite the resemblance, I plan to keep him at arm’s length. I’m going to show him how capable I am. But I might also lose my heart in the process.

This is an 85k word, hurt/comfort, interracial, age-gap, MM romance novel with a moderate amount of angst.

Charley D. for lending me your characters and the awesome beta read

Kaje H. for the accountability and your belief I could write this book

Leanne C. for being our fearless leader

and

The other Single Dads of Gaynor Beach authors

CHAPTER1

HUGH

I was not a patient man. Working in emergency field hospitals didn’t lend itself to waiting. For twenty-some odd years, I dove in and did what needed to be done. I fixed what I could, consulted when I needed to, or helped the patient pass quietly if that was what the situation called for. In short—I acted.

Now, as I sat trapped on an airplane, I drummed my fingers. And I was uncomfortably cold. I’d hoofed it from the field hospital to the Jeep. The driver shuttled me to the train station, where I ran through to the platform to catch my train.

During an interminable twelve hours, I had nothing to do but sit in abject terror. Then a cab ride to the airport, where I sprinted yet again to catch that flight. The stop at the next airport didn’t afford me a moment to pick up a jacket or even a touristy sweatshirt.

Nope, I’d barely made this flight but, finally, success. I sat, crammed into coach, on an airliner flying halfway around the world.

I should’ve stopped for five minutes to gather more than just my laptop and fresh clothes. A jacket would’ve been nice. Except the weather was warm in the war-torn country where I was working, and it’d be warm in SoCal when I arrived. Just this bloody air-conditioned tin can hurtling through the air at ungodly speeds was cold.

Patience.

Stressing wasn’t going to get me there any faster. I yanked out my laptop, connected to the plane’s WiFi, and then searched my email. Initially I’d spotted the message when I took a break and was scrolling on my phone. Aside from work-related ones, I rarely got emails. The few close people in my life knew to text. I didn’t always have internet, but I almost always had cell service. Well, sometimes had cell service. When I’d been in some remote parts of Africa, I’d been completely cut off from the outside world.

Focus.

The officious email informed me that my daughter had died, and I was the only living relative of her child. Could I come quickly, as my granddaughter needed someone to care for her?

At first I thought it a hoax. I didn’t have a daughter, and I certainly didn’t have a granddaughter living in Gaynor Beach, California. I was alone in the world. My parents had passed several years ago, and I’d been an only child of two only children.

I’d reread the email as panic rose. Then I spotted the name that brought everything into sharp focus.

Annette Peterson.

My recollections of the woman were vague at best.

I’d been in my final year of residency while she’d been a newly minted neurosurgeon. The affair had been illicit, short, and very intense. She resigned to take a job back in the States, and I obtained my certification—then headed to Africa for my first overseas posting. Eventually I came back to Canada for additional schooling to obtain my specialization in emergency medicine, then I headed back overseas and had been doing rotations in every war-torn country I could find. I’d done a few stints in impoverished countries as well, where any physician would do.

“We’ll be landing shortly.”

The steward’s gentle voice pulled me back from the brink of another panic attack.

He nodded at my laptop.

I took a moment to memorize the social worker’s name, then I stowed the machine. I should’ve called. Before I leapt on a plane. During the interminable train ride would’ve been good. But, again, no cell service. Then possibly in the airport in Munich, but I’d had fifteen minutes to make the connection. I’d been the last person onto the plane. And perhaps during the flight over, but it’d been the middle of the night, and yes, the man probably left me his office line, but what if he didn’t and I woke him? No, better to wait.

Impatiently.

The plane landed smoothly.

As soon as the seat-belt sign was off, I leapt up, grabbed my rucksack, and was hotfooting it. Of course, several other people had the same idea, and I was near the back of the plane, so again I was forced to cool my heels.

I checked my watch. Seven-nineteen. In the morning. I’d set the time when we hit the Atlantic Ocean. I had no concept of what time of day it was in… No, wait. I did some calculations. Seven in the evening. Given I’d only gotten snatches of sleep in the past two days, it didn’t really matter anymore. I’d stay up until ten, maybe take some melatonin, and try to get a solid eight hours. I might not be young, but I traveled well.

As we shuffled toward the front of the plane, I did more calculations. Twenty minutes to get a cab, a fifty minute or so drive through rush-hour traffic to Gaynor Beach. No, better factor in an hour. So I’d arrive at the social worker’s office around eight thirty. God, I hoped he wasn’t a nine-to-fiver. I had zero patience and two fucks to give about disturbing him. No, I’d be on the phone as soon as I was out of the cab.

The taxi line wasn’t long, and soon I was in a cab and headed north on the 5.

I yanked out my phone and checked my email.

Nothing.

Annette Peterson. Her daughter’s name was Patricia Peterson. And Patricia’s daughter was named Marilee Peterson.

A daughter of a single mother who was the daughter of a single mother.

I had a daughter.

Had being the key point. She’d died five days ago, and I’d never known her. Hell, if she hadn’t left a child, all of this would be unknown to me. I’d have gone along with my life thinking my only legacy was the people I saved. The children I helped. All along, I had a child.

And now a grandchild.

“We’re here.”

The cab driver pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. I tapped my credit card, mumbled some words of thanks, and stumbled out of the taxi. He gave a little wave as he headed off. Back to San Diego, I supposed.

I squinted at the building. Nice brick façade, plate-glass window, pretty gold script listing all the services available in this one place. Given the size of Gaynor Beach, with its twenty-two thousand residents, I wasn’t surprised everything was in one place. At least they had a social worker.

The small town in Northern Ontario where I grew up had about a thousand people on a good day. And most days weren’t good. The school-bus ride was more than an hour each way during most of my formative years, but that was all right. I planned my escape from the poverty.

Focused on earning good grades, I won a full scholarship to the University of Ottawa and a spot in the prestigious medical school at the University of Toronto. During my residency at St. Michael’s Hospital, I quickly realized I wanted to focus on emergency medicine.

But not in some fancy hospital with all the latest equipment.

I wanted to go where the need was greatest.

And I’d done just that.

“Can I help you?”

Shit.

“Uh, yeah, I’m looking for Anthony Rodrigues.”

“Well, you’ve found him.”

“Yeah, I’m Hugh Bracken.” I held out my hand. That was the polite thing to do, right?

He shook it with some strength. “Nice to meet you. Why don’t you come inside?” Without waiting for my response, he unlocked the door and moved swiftly to the alarm so he could disarm it.

I took my time. The good-looking man looked about thirty, with tanned skin, short jet-black hair, and deep-brown eyes. An inch or two taller than my own five-ten.

He beckoned me in and once I cleared the door, he locked it. “Our secretary doesn’t get here until nine. She’ll unlock it and let in the hordes.”

My eyebrow shot up.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’m kidding. We rarely have more than a few people pass through these doors on any given day. I split my time between here and the high school.” He unlocked another door and again beckoned me in.

I sat across from his desk in a metal chair that was more comfortable than it initially looked.

He dropped his messenger bag next to the desk, pulled out his laptop, and sat. “I’m glad you came so quickly.” He opened the laptop, hit a few keys, and then met my gaze.

“You made it sound like life or death.”

A chuckle. But forced. “Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration. First, let me say I’m sorry that Patricia passed.”

“Me too.” I fingered a worn spot on my jeans. “How did you find me?”

He cocked his head. “You were listed on Patricia’s birth certificate. Didn’t take me long to track you down. The RCMP in Canada was most helpful.”

This guy had contacted the Royal Canadian Mounted Police? And they’d tracked me down? Surely an internet search might’ve obtained the same results. Except I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only Hugh Bracken in the world. On the other hand, I didn’t have a huge social media footprint. Yeah, okay, I’d be a challenge to track down. “You said I have a granddaughter?”

A soft smile. “Yes, Marilee. She’s ten months old. Healthy, despite everything.”

“You mean her mother’s death.”

He sat up a little straighter. “You didn’t know about Patricia?”

Know what? “Look, Mr. Rodrigues⁠—”

“Please, call me Anthony.”

“Anthony.” I tested the word. Although I was about twenty years older than the guy, he carried all the power in this room. I believed in being respectful. Breathe. “Your email came as a shock because Annette never told me she was pregnant. Until two days ago, I was unaware I had a daughter, let alone a granddaughter. I know nothing about Patricia. Now, is Marilee being cared for?”

He picked up a pen, tapped it on the desk, then put it down again. “She’s in the custody of someone.”

“Okay, I’m not sure why you called me.”

His gaze met mine directly.

It looked like indecision warred with resolution. Was he about to do something unethical? Was I about to be part of something I might later regret? No, that wasn’t possible. I had a granddaughter. She needed me. Nothing else mattered.

“Patricia was an addict.”

I waited for him to say something that made sense. Annette’s daughter had been an addict? Not that all parents could control their children, of course, but my ex-lover hadn’t struck me as a woman who didn’t dominate everything and everyone around her. “How…?”

“Annette died when Patricia was eighteen. Ovarian cancer. She’d been ill for a long time. Patricia was having difficulties coping, and the school asked me to intervene.” He scratched his nose. “I tried to, but I was still new at the job. Maybe I should’ve tried harder. But Annette died, Patricia completed high school, and then she sort of dropped off the radar.” He took a deep breath. “Gaynor Beach is a small town, but it’s easy to get lost—if you want to. Best I can figure, Patricia lived off her mother’s life-insurance money. Set up as an annuity, so she wasn’t able to burn through it all at once.”

Noise sounded from beyond the closed door.

I glanced over.

“Just our receptionist.”

“Ah.” I still struggled to wrap my head around this. “So Patricia dropped off the radar screen…”

“Yes. Ten months ago, she turned up at the ER of Gaynor Beach General Hospital. In labor. The doctor successfully delivered the baby, but also noted the track marks on Patricia’s arm. She claimed she’d stopped using while pregnant, but Marilee’s drug test came back positive. Opioids. Needless to say, I was called.”

“Oh my God.” I knew what that meant. Babies born with drugs in their systems faced all kinds of challenges. Especially if Patricia…if my daughter…had been using during the pregnancy.

“Yes, well, we placed Marilee in foster care. A lovely family in Marina Park, and she thrived.”

Slowly the pieces were coming together.

“As you might imagine, Patricia was distraught at losing custody. She swore she’d clean herself up and get Marilee back.”

“And she did.”

He nodded. “She petitioned the court four months ago. She’d completed rehab and had six clean drug tests. The judge agreed, with the understanding I’d have free access to the home and the baby.”

“I take it things didn’t go well.”

“At first, they did. Then she had a friend move in.”

I didn’t miss the emphasis. “A boyfriend? The baby’s father?”

“Patricia maintained she didn’t know who the father was, and no one was listed on the birth certificate.”

At least Annette’d had the decency to put my name on Patricia’s. Would’ve been nice to know I had a daughter, but the time was long past for anger or regrets.

So you tell yourself.

“Okay, so this guy…?”

Anthony cleared his throat. “I didn’t approve. I was in the process of getting Patricia’s parental rights terminated when…” He squinted. “She overdosed.”

Pain ripped through me. Sure, he’d been leading up to this. But to hear it? In such stark terms? Words that could never be taken back. I shook my head. Not in denial so much as to clear it. “So you’ve taken Marilee back? Right? She’s back in foster care?”

The glint in his eyes had me sit up and take notice.

“Patricia went to a lawyer. She had this guy, Oscar, listed as Marilee’s guardian.”

“But you said he was a bad guy. Or that he wasn’t to be trusted.”

Another nod. “I did. But simply taking Marilee away isn’t so simple. I’m going to have to prove there’s neglect. Patricia was sober when she made her will. The lawyer was clear he didn’t see any impediments. Nothing that’d nullify Patricia’s wishes.”

“And yet you called me.”

“Yes.” He rolled his shoulders. “You can petition the court. You’re a blood relative, and courts almost always side with the blood kin. But time is of the essence. The longer your granddaughter is with that…that man…the harder it will be. Courts also believe in honoring the wishes of parents. If he keeps custody, it’ll be more challenging to sever the rights.”

“What do I do?” No way was I going to leave Marilee in the hands of someone not capable of caring for her. A ten-month-old needed someone who could see to her every need. I could do that.

What about your job?

Fuck it. I was on leave for a family emergency. If I broke my contract, there wasn’t much they could do. They’d find someone else. They had to. Because I was needed in Gaynor Beach.

“You’ll need to see a lawyer. Immediately. I can set you up this afternoon. And I want you to go over and introduce yourself. You showing up might be enough of an incentive for the young man to leave.”

“That simple?”

His expression darkened. “I doubt it, but we’ve got to try. We have to do whatever it takes.”

“Then let’s go.” I was already rising. As was my blood pressure. Every minute we sat here chitchatting was another moment my granddaughter was alone with this…guy. No, I needed to get there right away.

Anthony was slower to rise. “Maybe you want to take a bit of time. To shower and, perhaps, change…?”

Well, at least the guy was tactful.

Except I didn’t want tactful. I wanted action. Still, twenty minutes wouldn’t make that much of a difference. “Do you have a washroom where I can freshen up?”

He nodded and we exited.

I gave a quick nod to the receptionist as I passed by.

Blonde hair, huge glasses obscuring whatever shade her eyes might be, and fire-engine red lipstick. She offered a huge grin, then immediately returned to her magazine.

The utilitarian unisex washroom was wheelchair accessible, so I had room to organize my things. I laid my bag on the changing table and withdrew the pair of khakis and a dress shirt I’d shoved inside. Somehow they came out pretty okay. An iron would be lovely, but I didn’t have time.

I snagged my trimming scissors. Often my beard grew quite bushy while I worked, despite it being itchy. If possible, I trimmed when I could, but I’d been in the field for months, and personal grooming hadn’t been a priority.

Calming myself enough to trim without cutting myself proved challenging. I was a get-up-and-go type of guy, and I liked to stay on my toes. The more work the better. I resented sleep.

Once I was closely trimmed, I eyed my hair. Still fairly short. Way too much gray. I shoved my scissors back into my mess kit. My father’d been completely gray by forty, and I was well on my way. Who cared? It lent me gravitas. Just as long as I didn’t look too old to handle tough situations—like war zones.

I scrubbed my hands over my eyes one final time. It’d have to be good enough.

When I emerged, Anthony, who’d been leaning over the receptionist’s desk, straightened. “We can take my car.”

“Yeah, great.” I squinted. “I’m going to need to get a rental.” Because God only knew how long I’d be in this forsaken place. Long enough to settle affairs and then…what? I had a storage locker in Toronto, but no home to speak of. When I came back to Canada between jobs, I took short-term rentals. Or cheap motels. I was always reassigned within days and sent off again. My bosses preferred I stay in Canada for longer periods of time, but they were also perennially short of doctors, so if I said I was ready to go, they’d send me back.

And although the pay wasn’t spectacular, my twenty-five years of savings plus my inheritance would buy a nice house in many suburbs in Canada.

Wait, could I even take Marilee to Canada? She was American. Having a grandfather who was Canadian didn’t grant her automatic citizenship.

Crap.

“You okay?” Anthony’s brow knit in concern.

“Fine. Sure. Whatever.”

Rental first, then a place to stay, then securing custody of Marilee.

The social worker gestured for me to follow him out into the morning sunshine where the heat radiated off the pavement.

Where were my sunglasses?

Never mind.

Anthony unlocked a sedate, nondescript minivan with his remote.

I eased into the passenger seat, set my rucksack on my lap, put on my seat belt, and adjusted the visor to block out the worst of the sun’s rays.

“Temperatures can go quite high.” He said the words conversationally as he pulled out onto the street.

A few cars were on the road, but no big traffic jam.

“I’ve worked in sub-Saharan Africa.”

“Really?” He executed a right turn. “Your profile said you were a doctor.”

“Emergency medicine. Working in war zones.” I usually could list all of them, in order. Today my mind blanked. Hell, I couldn’t even remember where I’d just come from—and I’d been there for months.

We entered a more residential area.

After a few minutes, he spoke. “Patricia owned a home in Oakdale. Her grandparents used to live there. Annette owned a place in Willis Cove, but I found out Patricia sold it. Likely snorted the profits.”

His brutal honesty hurt my soul. Yet he was probably right. Drug addicts always found a way.

More streets, and soon I was turned around. I’d need GPS to find my way out of this neighborhood. Then he pulled into the driveway of a house that looked exactly the same as all the others on this block. Perhaps a bit smaller. A brown-colored rancher with white trim and a yard desperately in need of mowing. Weeds had overtaken whatever flowers there might’ve been.

As we exited the car and started up the walkway, I noted several loose stones that’d be hazardous. The whole place reeked of neglect, and my blood boiled. This was where my granddaughter lived? With some guy? Well, I had to put an end to it.

Now.

CHAPTER2

OSCAR

I was having one of those days.

Marilee had been up most of the night running a fever.

Corey at daycare said in no universe was I allowed to bring a sick child in.

Jermaine, the pharmacist, had helpfully suggested something to bring down her fever.

If that hadn’t worked, I considered either calling her pediatrician or taking her to the hospital. Both of those options, however, meant running the risk they’d call Anthony, and in no way was I going to deal with that son of a bitch. If Marilee was in true danger? Of course. A fever of a hundred and one? Nope.

Having helped raise five kids came in handy sometimes. Sometimes I resented being the oldest and the most responsible, but other times I was grateful my mother forced me to learn. I planned on being the best parent to Marilee. I had a great example.

Too bad Mom lived in Los Angeles. Right now, as Marilee screamed her lungs out, I’d do anything for a helping hand.

The sound of car doors slamming penetrated above the baby’s wails.

I strode to the window and peeked through the gap in the drapes. Holding myself as still as possible, I groaned out loud.

Anthony.

Fucking Anthony.

The bane of my goddamned existence.

Patricia’s service had been yesterday. Yesterday, for Christ’s sake. For the whole seven people who showed up at the funeral home. She might’ve been Gaynor Beach born and bred, but she’d alienated virtually everyone in this town since her high school graduation.

I, on the other hand, was the newcomer in town. Four months, I’d been here. But I knew enough to hate Anthony Fucking Rodrigues.

The knock on the door was more like pounding, and the sound echoed in the small living room.

Marilee stopped wailing for all of ten seconds before resuming, even more loudly than before.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Even if my ten-year-old Mazda wasn’t in the driveway, no way could I pretend we weren’t here. Maybe if the baby wasn’t howling, we might’ve been able to hide until the goddamn asshole left.

No chance of that now.

“Open up, Mr. Collins. I hear Marilee.”

And likely the entire neighborhood heard him yelling. Great, more fodder for my nosy, gossipy neighbors. Lovely.

I unlocked the door and swung it open, prepared to do battle.

My breath caught.

Oh, I was face-to-face with Anthony, but my gaze quickly skittered over him and onto the man behind him. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. Patti’s eyes. Without a moment’s doubt, I knew this man was a relative. And if he was here with Anthony, then he was likely someone who’d try to take Marilee away from me.

Good fucking luck.

Nope. Not going to happen. Patti’s will was ironclad. The lawyer I consulted with yesterday agreed. And he’d offered to represent me. For a fee, of course. Money I didn’t have right now.

Marilee inherited, along with the house, Patti’s annuity from her mother.

But the next payment wasn’t due for fifteen days, so we were stuck on my salary and the few dollars Patti’d left in her drawer. In other words, not very much.

Anthony made a grab for Marilee, but I was faster.

I growled at him.

He held up his hands. “You looked like you could use a hand.” All innocent.

I didn’t trust him for anything. For all I knew, he’d grab her and run. He’d taken her away from her mother once and had been trying to do it again. Plain and simple. I blamed him for Patti’s death. If she hadn’t been so stressed about losing Marilee, she never would’ve taken that hit.

The hit that killed her.

“May I see her?” The man with the blue eyes stepped toward me.

I held my ground.

He had what I’d term salt-and-pepper hair, although definitely more salt than brown. Several inches shorter than me, but definitely broader. I was scrawny. Always had been and always would be.

“I’m a doctor.”

His voice was soothing, and I considered his offer. But he was the enemy. Likely Patti’s father, although she’d never mentioned having one. She talked about her mother a lot, but never a father.

My hackles rose. “I gave her the medicine the pharmacist recommended, and her fever’s down. She’s just overtired. Once I get her to sleep, she’ll be fine.” I glared at Anthony. “I almost had her down before you pounded on the door.”

A complete fucking lie, but I didn’t care.

Marilee had been going full-on when he pulled up.

Still, I thrust up my chin, daring him to contradict me.

“Well, I’m sure you’re doing a great job. I just want to make sure she’s okay.” The stranger again, with those soothing tones.

Part of me wanted to hand her over, and part of me wanted to demand to see his credentials. Anyone could claim to be a doctor. But he had to have some kind of special ID. Right? My boss, Louisa, carried her veterinary license in her wallet.

Shit.

I didn’t need my phone alarm to remind me of the time. I was due at the clinic any minute, and I still hadn’t called. Optimist I was, I’d kept hoping a childcare solution would appear.

As if my panic summoned someone, my phone rang. Juggling the baby, I snagged it from my back pocket and checked the screen.

Gaynor Beach Veterinary Clinic.

Hell, I wasn’t even late.

I glanced at the time. Nope, I was fifteen minutes late. And my boss, great lady she was, wouldn’t be calling to reprimand. She was calling because she was worried. I glanced at Marilee whose face was blotchy and her nose was running. I answered the phone. “Hey Louisa,” I said, quickly cutting her off. “I’m going to be late.”

“Good Lord, is that Marilee?” She chuffed out a breath. “Dumb question. Is she okay?” Another chuff. “I’m full of dumb questions this morning. I’ll get José to help me today.” Her younger cousin was in veterinary school, but he was home for the break.

Guilt swamped me. Today was supposed to be my first day back after almost a week off after Patti’s death. I really needed to go back, because my boss was covering my wages from her own pocket. “I’m still looking for other options.”

“Look, Oscar, your job is safe, okay? Take care of the little tyke for me, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Kisses, okay?”

The woman was nothing short of an angel. I didn’t deserve her. I didn’t deserve any of the good things in my life.

She hung up the phone before I could respond. I stared at the phone a bit longer before shoving it back into my pocket.

Marilee hiccupped. She appeared ready to go another round when she suddenly grabbed my chin. For such a little tyke, she had quite a grip.

“Hey,” I crooned, gently trying to remove her hand.

Her face scrunched up and I relented. I still needed to wipe her nose and find her pacifier, but the more pressing problems stood near the door. “She’s fine. I’m fine. We’re all fine.”

Anthony looked around the room with ill-hidden disgust. “You’re anything but fine.”

I winced. Okay, a few bottles littered the coffee table. Two soiled receiving blankets sat on the back of the couch, and ugh, a small pile of dirty clothes was in the corner. At least the diapers were in the contraption that hid them away and kept them from smelling. Small favors.

“We had a rough night.”

An understatement. Aside from her crying, neither of us was able to settle.

She was accustomed to sleeping in her crib in her mother’s room. With her mother.

I’d shut that room off completely. Patti’d died in that room, and I couldn’t banish the image of her lying still in the bed. Cold and unnaturally white. With blue lips.

Marilee’d been asleep—thank God. I’d whisked her out of there and called the paramedics. But I knew. I dealt with death all the time at the vet clinic. I might not’ve gone to human medical school, but I still recognized she was gone.

The paramedics and police showed up at the same time. The paramedics made the call, and the police had a whole pile of questions.

Gaynor Beach didn’t have a medical examiner, so the San Clemente one had to be called. More waiting. More questions. More unspoken recriminations. No one doubted she died of an overdose. I was living here, so why didn’t I stop her? Why didn’t I notice she was dead?

Well, it’d been nighttime. In the morning, when she wasn’t up, I knew. I just…knew.

Fortunately Marilee’d slept through the entire ordeal. Too young to understand, of course, but she didn’t need to see her mother like that. She’d said Mama for the first time just the week before.

Fuck, Patti. You’re going to miss out on all of this. How could you?

She hadn’t meant to overdose.

I was one hundred percent certain of that. But between the contaminated drug supply, and her thinking she needed more than she did…whatever. But I knew all too well the seductive temptation to use drugs to escape the stresses of life. Now she was dead, and I was left with an orphan.

Well, technically Marilee had a father. Somewhere. Patti wouldn’t say. Or couldn’t say. So unless some guy showed up demanding a DNA test, Marilee was parentless.

Speaking of DNA tests. I supposed the guy could ask for one. But with those eyes, I had no doubt he was related to Patti.

Marilee’s hair was black with little wispy curls.

“Hey, Doctor, who’re you exactly?”

The man stepped forward. He began to extend his hand, looked at me clutching my precious bundle, and put his hand back limply at his side. “My name is Hugh Bracken. I am—or rather I was—Patricia’s father.”

“Patti. She went by Patti.” Anger swelled in my chest and bile rose in my throat at the thought of my best friend. “And she never mentioned you. Not once.” I scrunched my nose. “No, that’s not true. I asked once. She said you were a sperm donor. Didn’t even mention you by name. Don’t know if she knew your name.”

He pressed a hand to his chest, right above his heart. “Her mother, Annette, never told me about Patti. Obviously I would’ve made an effort to be part of her life. I would’ve reached out to her.”

“Well, you didn’t.” Possibly unfair to lob that accusation at him, but he winced, assuring me I hit my target. “And now you’re here thinking you’re going to ride in on your horse like a white knight and save the day? Spare me your bullshit.”

Anthony cleared his throat. “I question whether you should be swearing around small ears.”

Well, I’d done some research. Marilee wouldn’t really understand language for another little bit. If I let one rip, in this scenario, I wasn’t going to worry. Or apologize. “I’ll decide what happens around my daughter.” Okay, bold move. But planting my flag was important. These two assholes needed to know where I stood.

The social worker guffawed while the grandfather—although I found it difficult to think of him that way—gaped.

“You are not that child’s father. Anyone can tell by looking at her…” Anthony trailed off.

My glare shut the asshole up. I’d had enough of his shit. Coming around for weeks, hell, months. Patti’s death was on him. “Look, dickwad, you might think I’m not her biological father based on the color of her skin. But she’s been with me for months now. I’m the only parent she knows.” Except her mother. “Patti named me guardian, and I’ve spoken to a lawyer about adopting this precious little girl.” I let my words sink in. “You will never take her away from me. Are we clear?”

“You’re nothing but a hanger-on and a loser. You don’t deserve that child. And she can do a hell of a lot better than you.”

Don’t get mad. Don’t get mad. Don’t… Nope, fuck it. “Get the fuck out of my house. Don’t you ever dare step foot in it again, or I will call the cops.”

“Go ahead and call them. Let them look around this place. They’ll see she’s better off in foster care.”

He looked so smug. I wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off his face. But I wouldn’t, and he knew it. One, I’d risk losing Marilee. Second, that wasn’t how I rolled anymore. Those days were long behind me. And I’d been clean for more than five years. Who the hell was this asshole? Coming here and presuming he could throw insults around?

Hugh cleared his throat, startling both Anthony and myself. I’d forgotten he was even here.

“I can see this is a long-standing dispute. I don’t want to step into the middle of it.”

Both the asshole and I scowled. I didn’t want him here, and I suspected Anthony was counting on him to be here. To step into the middle of it.

“May I see my granddaughter?”

My scowl intensified.

He winced. “May I see Marilee?”

“She doesn’t like strangers.”

“Whose fault is that?”

Jesus, I was going to slug this social worker. Violence was becoming a real possibility.

“Plenty of babies don’t like strangers. They’re attached to their parents.” Defensive much?

“You haven’t tried to socialize her at all.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. “She was scheduled to start day care today.”

“You’re going back to work?” Hugh’s expression softened. “I can’t understand the American system. You’re not even given proper time to grieve.”

Good God, who was he and where had he come from?

“Oh, sorry, I’m Canadian.”

Well, that explained a few things. Like his weird accent. Or the lack of one. “I don’t know any Canadians.” Sure plenty of our Northern neighbors flocked to L.A. and, undoubtedly, Gaynor Beach. But I’d never gone out of my way to meet people. Any people. Maybe if I’d spread my wings, I wouldn’t have been so insular. So vulnerable to those awful temptations.

Don’t go there.

“Look, why don’t I watch Marilee while you go to work?”

I gaped at the man. “You honestly think I’m going to leave my daughter alone? With some stranger? I mean, I don’t care if you’re a real doctor⁠—”

“I am.”

“—but I’m not leaving her alone with you. How do I know you won’t just steal her? Take her away and I’d never see her again.” My voice caught. Even just the thought of it was enough to bring me to my knees.

He held up his hands. “I’m here to help.”

“Well, you can help by getting the fuck out of my house and leaving me the fuck alone.”

“But it’s not your house, is it?” Anthony the asshole again.

“It is.” Here I had a leg to stand on. “Patti left the house to Marilee with me as guardian of it until she turns twenty-five. So she’s staying, and so am I.”

“You just want to get hold of her trust fund.”

I’d had it. “Look, fuckwit, I’ll say this only once, so get it through your thick fucking skull. I’m not after Marilee’s money. Or her house. I make enough on my salary to take care of both of us. So you can just go back to the rock you crawled out from underneath and leave us the hell alone.”

Marilee, who’d finally nodded off, opened her eyes and took a deep breath.

No, no, no.

She started wailing.

Shit.

The baby was so sensitive. Always in tune with Patti’s moods. Sometimes, when Patti’d been stressed, I coaxed her to go for a walk while I soothed Marilee.

“You’re stressed,” Hugh soothed. “You need a break.”

“No, I need to be left alone. Forever.”

“At least let me hold her.” The grandfather again.

I glared at Anthony. He took the measure of the situation, looking back and forth between Hugh and myself. Finally, he met Hugh’s gaze. “I think this is a mistake.”

“And I appreciate your apprehension. I really do. It’s great that you’re concerned about my granddaughter. But I think you need to leave.” The man’s tone of voice brooked no opposition. No, he meant business.

Anthony held up his hands. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you. I think you’re making a big mistake.”

Hugh remained immobile and resolute.

“At least come and grab your bag from the minivan.”

Finally, the man moved. He followed the social worker out of the door.

Thank Christ.

My first instinct was to slam the door and lock it.

You’ll only prolong the inevitable.

Yeah, I got it. I really did. If this guy was my daughter’s grandfather, he deserved the right to get to know her. And, for the record, what did that make me in relation to him? Was he my father-in-law?

Ew. Ick. Gross.

I’d never anticipated being in this predicament. After rehab, I’d sworn off any attachments. And until Patti’d entered my life, I’d kept that promise.

I bounced Marilee in my arms. “Whatever it takes,” I whispered fiercely. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. You are mine.” And she was—in every way that mattered. Blood might trump everything in this fucked up world we lived in, but my bond to her meant so much more than the random stranger who thought he’d barge in and take over.

Well, he had another thought coming.

CHAPTER3

HUGH

I removed my rucksack from Anthony’s vehicle and started back up the steps.

“You’re making a mistake.”

I turned to face the man.

“You should be spending your time finding a lawyer.”

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps I was making a mistake. But my instinct was always to help rather than to escalate. Oscar clearly needed help. I wouldn’t turn my back. Now, if I happened to collect evidence he was mistreating or, God forbid, abusing my granddaughter? Well, obviously I’d have to act. For now, I’d observe. And help out however I could.

I extended my hand.

After a moment, he shook it.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate you calling me. And you gave me the name of the lawyer, so I can make that call.” If necessary. Only if necessary.

He scowled. An expression that didn’t look good on him. He was a handsome guy, and I’d bet money he looked amazing when he smiled. I’d yet to really see it. After a moment, he got into the minivan. Soon he backed out of the driveway and headed out. Assumedly to his office.

I headed back to the house. Should I knock? Hearing Marilee’s wails, I decided quietly entering made the most sense. I opened the door without resistance, and the knot in my gut loosened a little.

Oscar could’ve locked me out. Had every right to. And I’d have been stuck in the middle of suburbia without transportation or a place to stay. Would I have coped? Of course. Was I expressing gratitude as I stepped into the house? Yeah, that too.

Oscar stood at the far side of the room, near the dining room, and bounced the baby in his arms.

After dropping my rucksack by the door, I shucked my shoes. I advanced into the room quietly.

He caught my eye, glared, and refocused his attention on the baby.

Fair enough.

I made my way to the coffee table and scooped up all the bottles, dishes, and other stuff that’d accumulated. I headed into the galley kitchen that was separate from the living room and dining room area.

The walls dulled Marilee’s wails. I set about loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters. Then I washed my hands. I eyed the formula. Make a bottle? Don’t make a bottle? I was so out of my element.

The noise level increased as Oscar appeared in the kitchen entryway. “I’m worried.”

What had that admission cost him?

Instantly, I held open my arms.

Oscar gently placed her in them.

When she gazed into my eyes with her trusting expression? I was a goner. Still, I had a job to do. “Is she teething?”

“I, uh, don’t know. She was running a fever, and it went down, but she won’t settle. She’s gone through rough patches before, but never like this.”

I pressed a hand to her forehead. She was burning up. “Let’s get her a cool bath.” I held my clean finger next to her mouth and she immediately wrapped her mouth around it and started gnawing. “I presume you’ve fed her.”

“A while ago, but I don’t think she’s hungry.”

“No, I don’t think so either. Let’s get her cooled down and we’ll go from there. Do you have a teething ring?”

He disappeared and a few moments later returned with one.

“Pop it in the freezer. Hopefully it’ll be cool when she’s done with her bath.”

She continued to gnaw on my finger.

At least the screaming stopped. Thank God for small mercies.

Oscar eyed me for another moment before pointing over his shoulder. “I’ll run a bath.”

I gave him a nod, and he disappeared again. I glanced down at Marilee. “You’re a special girl, aren’t you? And a good girl, I’m quite sure. And smart.” I winced as she chomped. “And we’ll get you all cooled down, and a fresh diaper, and you’ll be ready for a bottle and then a long nap.” Or I could at least hope all of those things would happen. Anything was possible, right?

“I’m ready.” Oscar’s disembodied voice carried through the house.

I left the kitchen and followed the hallway.

The first door was closed, but the second was open.

He stood by the sink with a basin on the counter. A small number of bubbles were visible. “She loves bubbles.”

“That’s great. Why don’t you undress her while she continues to gnaw on my finger?”

It took a bit of maneuvering, but we managed. Soon I eased her into the basin.

She let go of my finger and let out an indignant howl.

“Shh.” Oscar held her and moved so he was directly in her line of sight. “I know you prefer warm baths, but lukewarm will just have to do.” He scooped some bubbles in his hand and blew.

Marilee giggled.

My heart lifted. Somehow, that little gesture, and that tiny response, soothed me. I suspected the fever was mild, and we might’ve been able to cool her using other means, but I wanted to get her clean and refreshed. And, I supposed, to see how Oscar handled her.

Like an old pro.

Better than I could’ve.

Truth was, I rarely handled children. To help diagnose what ailed them? Certainly. To comfort and soothe? Rarely. We had a great team who managed those tasks.

Unobtrusively, I lay my hand on her forehead. Much cooler. “Why don’t I prepare a bottle? Might she go down after that?”

Oscar nodded slowly. “Yeah, she might. God knows, she’s exhausted herself.”

“How long had she been crying before we arrived?”

A shrug. “I honestly don’t know. I know her screams didn’t help while I was calling around trying to find a babysitter.”

He rinsed her.

“Seriously, I can watch her while you go to work. I don’t want you to lose your job. That wouldn’t be good for any of you.”

The scowl was back. “Seriously, man, just back off. I let you stay, and I appreciate the help, but she’s my responsibility. If I can get her fever to go away, then I have a day-care spot for her. Corey’s thrilled that she’s coming. Marilee just can’t go with a fever.”

“Completely understandable.” I almost laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, but pulled back at the last moment. I doubted it’d be either welcomed or seen as the soothing gesture I intended. “I’ll get her bottle.” Making my way back to the kitchen, I noted another closed door. Did this house only have two bedrooms? From the outside, it appeared small. Compact. Cozy. The inside was also welcoming, with dusky rose walls and floral furniture. Frilly, but not overly so. Reminded me of my mother’s formal living room. Just…gentle.

In the kitchen, I set about making the bottle. Here, I knew what I was doing. Within a few minutes I had it ready and was able to hand it when Oscar appeared.

He headed over to the sofa and, with practiced ease, put a pillow under his elbow to support his arm.

Marilee barely fussed until she sucked the nipple into her mouth. She grasped the bottle in her tiny hands and industriously ate.

Oscar met my gaze. “Thank you.”

I smiled back. “Least I could do.” I scratched my nose. “When was the last time you ate?” There’d been several plates on the coffee table, but none looked recently used.

He looked up toward the ceiling as if contemplating. “I know I ate last night.”

Given eleven was coming up fast, this wasn’t acceptable. “Eggs? A sandwich? Pasta?”

“Ugh, nothing heavy.” He glanced down at the baby whose eyes drooped. “I’ve been stressed, you know?” He winced. “And I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

I held up my hands. “Look, Oscar, I’m not here to find evidence of your neglect of Marilee. I can see you’re doing a great job under terrible circumstances. I’m just here to help.”

“For how long?”

His dark-brown eyes pierced me. As if he could see right through me. “For as long as it takes.”

“What does that even mean?” His annoyance was clear in the scowl.

I kept thinking how nice he’d look if he could just smile. Except he’d lost his best friend less than a week ago, and was now the sole caregiver for an infant. Yeah, not sure I’d be smiling either. “It means I’m not on a schedule. I can take extended leave or even quit my job. They might not be happy⁠—”

“You shouldn’t quit your job.” His face scrunched up. “Whatever you do, I’m sure it’s important. So, like, keep doing it.”

My smile was as sincere as I could make it. “I’ve been working nonstop since I turned twenty-four. I’ve taken a couple of vacations over the year. Curacao and I are well-acquainted.”

“I don’t know where that is.”

“A little island in the Caribbean. I go every September. That’s my time away.”

“And where do you normally work?” He eyed my clothes, that were getting more wrinkled by the minute.

Sizing me up, if I had to guess. “I work for aid organizations providing medical care in developing countries.” I squinted. “Mostly, I go to countries where there are wars going on. I don’t pick sides, but usually one side is willing to accept help and the other isn’t. I go where there’s the greatest need.”

“Wars?” Again with the keen curiosity.

“Mostly Africa, Asia, and the Middle East.” I rolled my shoulders.

“So where’d you just come from?”

I named the country.

He blanched. “I heard things are bad there.”

“They are.”

“So, don’t you need to be there?”

Not an easy question to answer. “Can they use my skills? Sure? Is one person going to make a difference? No.”

“But you can make the difference in one person’s life.”

I was surprised at his insight. But maybe I shouldn’t be. I had to let Anthony’s prejudices drop from my mind and form my own impression of this young man. “I made the difference in plenty of people’s lives. But I’m saying they’ve probably already sent someone to fill my spot. As much as that country needs help, I think I’m needed here more.” I rubbed my face with my hands. Fatigue was setting in. Or jet lag. I needed to stay awake. “Do you have coffee?”

He nodded. “There’s a coffeemaker. Might as well make a pot.” He gently stroked Marilee’s forehead and removed the bottle from her yielding hands. “I need to change her and then lay her down for a nap. Hopefully she’ll sleep.”

“When was her last dose of fever reducer?”

“A couple of hours ago.”

“Okay, so we’ll see how she is when she wakes up. And the teething ring will be nice and cold.”

He squinted. “I don’t know why that didn’t occur to me. Except she was a preemie and everything has been behind a normal child’s development. I figured teeth would be a few months down the road.”

“Some babies are born with teeth.” I rose and indicated he should hand me the bottle. Good, it was mostly empty. “You put her down and then we can talk.” I eyed him. “Unless you need a nap as well.”

He shook his head vigorously as if he could shake off the fatigue so clearly apparent on his face. “I’m fine.”

I placed a hand to his elbow and helped him rise.

His gaze met mine.

What did he see when he looked at me? Some old dude trying to hone in on his territory? An old guy who didn’t have a life outside of work? Or someone genuinely willing to offer a hand?

And what did I see in him? Genuine affection for Marilee. Someone who’d do anything for her. And someone, I believed, who’d do anything to bring Patricia back. Patti. She’d preferred Patti. Oscar could fill in all the missing pieces. Or at least some of them. The sperm-donor comment smarted, but he hadn’t been wrong. Maybe that’s all I’d ever been to Annette. I’d never know.

“I’m good.”

What? Oh, I still held his elbow. I dropped my hand and stepped back, allowing him to pass.

He held my gaze for one more moment before breaking eye contact and ducking his head. As he headed off to the bedroom, I considered. What’d just happened? Maybe nothing, but I’d swear something passed between the two of us. Understanding or a message? Hard to say. Was he warning me off or inviting me closer?

You’re overthinking this.