Her betrayal ate at his gut. God, how he’d trusted her. Believed in her. Believed in them as a couple. How stupid to think they could topple the past and build a future when it was all based on deceit. All this time he’d been patient, tearing down each one of her walls, pleasuring her body, and through every kiss, she’d known and deliberately held the most precious thing of all from him.
Family.
With shaking hands, he followed the twisting hill to the top and cut the engine. The spill of house and land soothed his ravaged soul, and he stumbled from the car, needing someone to talk to, someone who would keep him from drowning. The dogs barked crazily when he rang the doorbell, and when his brother flung open the door, they jumped on him in merry greeting.
“Down, Balin, down, Gandalf. Where’s Raven when you need her?” Cal muttered, tucking them back in the house. Dressed in briefs and an old T-shirt, he blinked sleepily, pushing his fingers through his hair. “What’s up, man? It’d better be important. That party was worse than my crew celebrating after a job and—” He broke off. Reached out and grabbed Tristan’s arm. “What happened?”
Tristan shook his head. Once he would’ve handled this alone. He would sit by himself, think about all the options, quietly drink his wine, and make a decision. He was good at stamping down the tide of emotions that wrecked rational thinking. But tonight he realized he had his brothers back, and they might be the only things that could help him.
“I’m Becca’s father.” The words were choked out. He held on to Cal, feeling the ground tilt underneath him. “I’m Becca’s father, and I don’t know what to do.”
The shock on Cal’s face confirmed no one had known. They’d all been living alongside Becca with no clue she belonged to them. His brother gripped him like he did when he was drunk, holding him upright and guiding him through the door. “Okay, it’s going to be okay, Tris. I swear it. I got you.”
For some reason, he clung to his brother’s words and allowed himself to be led inside.
It only took half an hour for Dalton to get there. They set him up in the man cave—a special room Cal had insisted the house include for entertaining male guests. Morgan had pointed out he only saw his brothers and Brady, but he hadn’t cared. Decorated in rich wood and earth colors and packed with television screens, surround-sound speakers, elaborately carved game tables, and a fully stocked bar with leather stools, it was indulgent yet masculine.
Dalton sat beside him on the leather couch while Cal paced. They’d given Tristan a snifter full of Cal’s expensive whiskey and insisted he drink it. He tried, but even though he technically knew it should be heating his throat and stomach with a burning sting, he felt nothing.
Maybe he’d never feel anything again.
Maybe that would be a good thing.
“You both never considered the idea she could be mine?” he asked for the third time, staring into his glass. Sydney used to tell him Cal’s whiskey reminded her of his eyes. He’d pretend to be embarrassed, but her compliment pleased him. That had been a lifetime ago.
“Never,” Cal bit out. “We weren’t on speaking terms when you left, and she got married so quickly. I figured you guys had just moved on. Yeah, she got pregnant fast, but I never questioned it.”
“I was in California at that point,” Dalton said. “By the time I got back, I knew the story everyone did. It hadn’t worked out with her husband, she had the baby, and he took a job overseas. She never said a bad word about him.”
“I was so stupid,” Tristan muttered. He drained his glass, and Cal quickly gave him another. “I asked her to come to New York with me and she said no. Said she wanted to stay in Harrington. We had a big fight and I left. But I came back three months later, because I realized I couldn’t live without her.”
Cal frowned. “I didn’t know you came back,” he said. “What happened?”
He lifted his head and gazed at his brothers. His heart felt like a barren wasteland where nothing would ever grow again. “She was having a wedding dress fitting and I asked her again to come with me. She told me she was getting married and had built her own life. And she never told me about her pregnancy.”
Dalton shook his head. “I can’t believe this. It just doesn’t sound like something Sydney would do. Why? What was going on with you two?”
The past surged up with all the memories. The times he’d pushed her away. The statements he’d made to her about feeling trapped in Harrington. The subtle way he’d insulted the life she said she wanted, hoping to push her to want more, be more, go explore the world. His refusal to say he loved her. “We had different views of our lives back then,” he said shortly. No way was he going to feel guilty or excuse her lies.
“I can never forgive her.” He stated the words with certainty. “But I have to make a decision about Becca. How we move forward. I want to be with my daughter. I deserve the time to make up for what I lost.”
“You can share custody,” Dalton suggested. “Work out a schedule.”
“So I can grab small chunks of time like a part-time father?” he said bitterly. “No. I want more than that.”
“When are you going to tell her?” Cal asked.
“I don’t know. I left to get my head on straight. She doesn’t deserve me flipping out when I need to be the role model. I don’t know how she’s going to react.”
Cal stopped pacing and gave him a hard look. “She’s going to wonder how she got so lucky.”
“Maybe not. We were never as close as you guys were,” he pointed out. “It’s just recently I began to get to know her. She may not really like me. May not want me as her father.”
“Shut the hell up,” Dalton practically shouted. “Dude, you’re going to be the best father. Look at who we lived with our whole lives. If it wasn’t for Mom, we’d all be walking disasters. Becca has both you and Sydney, and she’s going to recognize how lucky she is the moment you tell her.”
His raw nerves were soothed a bit. Cal and Dalton were brutal with their honesty. If they believed he’d be a good father, he might actually be. The idea of Becca looking at him with disappointment haunted him. He pushed the image out of his mind and tried to concentrate on the bigger plan.
“Either way, you’re going to have to eventually make peace with Sydney,” Cal said. “I’m afraid when I tell Morgan, she’ll lose it. She’s very protective of you, and keeping such a secret is going to hit her hard.”
Dalton nodded. “Same thing with Raven. Our women are quite like mama bears when it comes to us.”
“I know.” The memory of sinking to his knees to pleasure the woman he was falling for again shook him to the core. Damn her. “She’s Becca’s mother, and no matter how I feel about her now, I need to give her respect. Becca will be confused enough without me trying to blame her mother.”
“You need some time to work through this,” Cal said quietly. “You can’t expect to know everything in a few hours.”
His brother might be right, but Tristan already knew he wanted something bigger than stolen hours or weekends. He wanted to offer Becca a real family—one she deserved. And there was only one way to get there, whether he liked the scenario or not.
If he went through with the plan slowly blossoming in his mind, there would be consequences. His life would never be the same, but then again, the truth had ripped away any foundation he’d ever had. He had to begin thinking like a father and do the best he could for Becca.
Sydney wouldn’t see it his way.
She’d fight him. She’d refuse. She’d threaten. She’d rant and rave and cry and push back.
But she was going to lose, because Tristan decided there was no other way, and nothing would keep him away from his daughter again.
Nothing and no one.
“You have a funny look on your face,” Dalton said. “What do you want to do?”
“I need to close my eyes and rest a bit,” he managed. He laid his pounding head against the leather cushions. “I think I’ve decided what I’m going to do.”