Baby Blue_A Father's Day Secret Baby Romance Read online

  He steps in, filling my living room with his huge voice and presence. “How we doing today, son?”

  “Living the dream, sir! Come have yourself a seat. Yeah, I’m just working out a new regimen I’m gonna unleash on the next recruit class.”

  “Better you than me, kid.” He takes a seat while I jaunt to the fridge to grab a beer for him and a coconut water for myself.

  “Hydration, huh. You know what we did for hydration back in my day? Water. Then beer. Repeat.” He takes a long swig.

  Frankly, I’m not sure how to take this visit. Chief’s stopped by from time to time, but mostly when I was balls-deep in some kind of trouble. After Arria. After Dad. But everything’s going fine at work now. I guess I don’t hide my uncertainty as to his purpose because soon he gets to his point.

  “Well, you must be wondering what I’m up to, inviting myself over like this.”

  Before my polite protests can get past my lips, he holds up a meaty hand. “Enough chitty-chat, son. I need to tell you what’s gonna happen.”

  I expect a big shake-up at the Academy. Or maybe someone finally ratted on Lt. Lewis’ disgusting soft cheese collection in the staff fridge. Forget rank, that shit is dangerous.

  “Kayla Thomas has no business with our Academy.”

  For a moment, I’m frozen. I blink and look hard in Chief’s eyes. I can’t suppress the rookie-like surprise and bewilderment in my voice. Hell, I can’t even hide my mom’s southern twang in it.

  “Sir?”

  “You heard me, boy.”

  “But how—?”

  “Francine—ahem, your mother told me Kayla had surprised you with a visit.”

  “Forgive me, sir, but how did you come to conclude—?”

  “You forget I was a detective for twenty-some years. And that I knew Ford Thomas for over thirty years. And that I watched this child grow up all her life.”

  So the legends about Chief are all true. Still in amazement, but starting to focus on the gravity of his statements, I finally finish a sentence.

  “She has potential, sir. She seems quite serious.”

  “Zach, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like we can deny the daughter of Ford Thomas. But you know, better than anyone, what she’s been though.”

  My face burns with internal shame at how I’ve made it my business not to know what Kayla’s been through. I also thank my mom silently for not telling the Chief what a shit I’ve been to Kayla.

  Chief continues. “I’m just worried about the kid. It’s not that we doubt her potential. This is just a matter of too-much, too-soon. She needs more time. Now is the wrong time. We do not believe she can pass the psych eval. And we don’t want Ford’s daughter humiliated at the D.Q. that’s sure to come.”

  “ ‘We,’ sir?”

  “The Board agrees with me. Hell, half of ‘em served with your stepdad and remember little Kayla as… well, little Kayla.”

  “But she’s grown now, Chief. And older than some of our youngest recruits.”

  “I know, son. It’s just that no one wants another Thomas to get put in the ground too early. Again. It happens, you know. Kid of slain police joins up, an avenging angel for payback from the world. Gets all rushy. And gets hurt. I will not watch it happen to her. No sir.”

  “I understand, sir. But what does this have to do with me, exactly?”

  “We don’t think she should submit an application. She won’t want a rejection, any rejection on her record. I believe she should be discouraged. And I believe you’re the one who can do it gently.”

  Chapter Six

  Kayla

  I have three hours until Zach picks me up for our dinner. This time, all will go perfectly. And I will be perfection.

  In record time, I have raced to buy a new dress, gotten my hair done, and had the dearest ladies from down the street to make my nails match my new red and black dress. Maybe that kind of hustle will come in handy at the Academy.

  Now that I’m back home, I take stock. I look in the mirror and behold a transformed woman looking back at me. My body is held in place superbly by the dress, pulled to its limits. My panty line is very visible and, I hope, somewhat distracting. But then I realize, if things go as well as I dream they will, easy access to my bare ass cheeks may be beneficial. I remove my panties and stare at the dress tapering down my body without a single crease. That’s it. Moving up, I take in my boobs. They’re pushed up in a black lace bra, creating some deliciously deep cleavage. Further up, I inspect the new hairdo. It leaves my neck bare with a few long draping locks that Zach could play with while he takes me from behind, nibbling my shoulder. In other words… perfection.

  A text chime rings from my purse. I open my phone’s screen and see a message from Zach.

  Almost at the restaurant. You there yet?

  The plan was for us to meet to have dinner together. I suppose it was rather presumptuous of me to think that Zach would be picking me up. I shouldn't be thinking of this as a date. It may turn into that as the night progresses. But as far as Zach is letting on, the two of us are just meeting to talk.

  My enthusiasm for our “meeting” begins to slowly deflate as I drive to the restaurant.

  It’s very possible that I just spent more money than I should have on a dress that’ll go overlooked. What if he’s waiting for me in just a t-shirt and cargo shorts?

  I steer my car into the parking lot of the restaurant he suggested. To my disappointment, it’s not at all romantic. Bright lights and primary colors scream “family establishment.” Shit. I put way too much thought into this dinner. Again, I over-think things.

  I pass through the entryway, barely avoiding a rowdy herd of eight-year-olds whizzing past me. Yet my heels click on a glossy stone floor. I also spy a large circular bar at the center of the room, offering evidence that maybe parents do find some adult respite here. A teenage hostess tells me to sit anywhere I like as I nod my thanks and breeze past searching for Zach.

  I find him at a small table for two, dipping his spoon in a bowl of soup. At least he’s wearing clothes that could be considered “business casual.”

  “Holy shit, look at you. You’re all dressed up,” he exclaims carelessly.

  It’s official. I hugely over-thought this. He’s over me, and probably has been since that night at the anniversary party, three years ago.

  Chapter Seven

  Zach

  I did not think this dinner through completely.

  When I called Kayla to arrange this dinner, I just thought it’d be a casual talk. As I watch her sit down in front of me, lovely dark eyes jumping to each of the loud families surrounding us, I realize I’ve missed a grand opportunity to show my desire for her.

  She put a lot of effort into what she was wearing. And I just grabbed whatever button-up shirt was clean.

  Not since our parents’ anniversary have I seen her dressed so elegantly. But instead of the pristine, virginal white gown of that night, she’s donning a sultry, mature red and black number that fits her like a glove.

  Everything about her appearance has ripened like a juicy fruit since I last saw her in person. Sure, she’s worn skimpy outfits before and while that body always makes my heart race, none of them made her look this sumptuous.

  Even back when we lived together, when my sexual frustration for her was at its most intense, I was not as enflamed by her appearance as I am now. Her eighteen-year-old body was supple, tight, and light enough to imagine positioning her in creative and flexible ways.

  I remember her prom night. That outfit wasn’t even in the same ballpark as this red and black dress, and that prom one was so tight and short that it kept riding up her luscious hips.

  I remember Kayla’s friends laughing that she’d end up mooning whoever stood behind her. This was after I unintentionally caught a glimpse, followed by an immediate boner, when I innocently walked through the hallway by her open door—just as she bent over to grab her purse. I blushed as they laughed unknowingly at me. Kayla was
never a fan of underwear.

  Now I try to ignore the sensation of blood flowing to my loins.

  Kayla clearly wants to make a good impression. And this is the first time the two of us have agreed to see each other. Normally, she’s begging for my help, but here we’re both presented with a blank slate. It seems Kayla is setting her best foot forward.

  But what if it’s just a ploy?

  I hate to think the worst of Kayla’s nature but she has a long track record of abusing my kindness to get what she wants. Prettying herself up more than usual could be another way of trying to get under my skin to achieve her aims.

  I want to believe that she has the best intentions but maybe that’s not being realistic. This is a working dinner. Kayla made her feelings towards me more than clear when she pushed me away and laughed at my advances. She’s had three years to either apologize or tell me that she feels differently since then.

  And she hasn’t.

  The last thing I need is another humiliation and another wound from her. I’m keeping my guard up.

  “So let’s get right down to business,” she demands with a shaky voice. “Am I going to get a letter of recommendation from you?”

  Her face is unsure and there’s another emotion flickering behind her eyes. Could that be resignation? I haven’t seen it there since right after Dad died. I recall the Chief’s words. There’s no telling how this night will go. I steel myself, shield intact.

  “The truth is, whether or not I write this letter, it’s out of my hands if you get in or not.”

  “I know. So what?”

  I rub the bridge of my nose. This next part could be hard. “There are some board members who don’t believe you should apply.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” she retorts. Her face is drawn up like she smells something foul. “How would they know who I am? Or that I was applying? What are you saying, Zach? What is this bullshit?”

  “Not bullshit.” I try to keep my tone neutral, but the fact is, I completely agree with their concerns. Until Kayla can prove me wrong.

  “These board members are Dad’s friends and they don’t think you should be applying for very obvious reasons. It looks like you want to do this just for Dad. I’ll say it again, that’s not healthy. Every cadet must pass psychological tests. It’s an automatic D.Q.—that’s disqualification—if a candidate is found to have any emotional or psychological condition that could interfere with their duties as a peace officer.”

  Kayla doesn’t reply. But I have her attention, so I press this advantage to make my main point. I lean forward. Let her make no mistake about my seriousness.

  “More than that… Kayla, the San Felipe Police Academy is among the most challenging in the country. We do not tolerate mediocrity or half-assing from anyone. Kayla. Not anyone.”

  Her voice emerges flat, without life. “Certainly not from Ford Thomas’ daughter.”

  She sits, unmoving for nerve-wrecking seconds. Her throat catches. She allows two lines of tears to flow freely down her face. It’s frozen, but a few sobs escape as her chest heaves.

  Some of the closest tables turn heads to look in our direction, eager for drama besides their own. But I focus on my date—my Kayla. Who is remembering our Dad. And who now feels her future slumping under the weight of his superhuman legacy. A legacy that only uplifted and benefited my future.

  Her huge eyes finally look up from the table to meet mine. And it’s like lava melting through an ice sheet. My glacier shield that I put up to protect myself is gone.

  Now all I know is that I need to somehow protect her from this pain, to somehow use my brawn, my skills, whatever I have to keep her from hurting. But I can’t just lay her down and cover her like the human shield I want to be, and let nature take over. And especially not here in public.

  It’s a cop’s job to consider worst possible outcomes. Maybe that’s why an old fear flashes through my mind at this point—what other people would think of us. I can see the click-bait headline now: Incest Video Caught at Family’s Favorite Bar & Grille!

  Right. So instead of following my instincts, I stand and pull my chair alongside hers. I sit and rub her back with one hand.

  “It’s okay, Kayla. There so much else you can do,” I tell her in a hushed tone, trying to comfort her. “I know what it’s like to lose someone close to you. It’s terrifying and it sends you down a spiral of thoughts that go nowhere. A negative feedback loop, they call it. You just focus on what you could have done differently, and what you could do to prevent hurt like that from happening again but—”

  “No,” she interrupts, voice surprisingly strong. “There’s nothing I could have done to save Dad. I wasn’t there. And I’m not trying to prevent any future pain by enrolling in the academy. I just want to honor him. I want to be a daughter he could be proud of.”

  “You already are,” I tell her as I wipe a few tears from her face. “He’s always been proud of you, Kayla. There wasn’t a single moment of his life when he wasn’t proud of you.”

  She grabs a napkin from the table, dabs her eyes and blows her nose. Her next words come out sounding grounded, confident, not like the overreaction of a confused mind. Or a defiant kid.

  “I want to do this. You could help me. But, Zach, you can’t stop me.”

  This is the proof I need. This is what I was waiting to hear. Kayla is nothing if not determined. And that determination would be enough to get her enrolled without me. This seals it. I will write her a recommendation and make sure she has me to thank for her acceptance.

  We sit, shoulder to shoulder, side by side. After a few seconds, she again shoots her potent gaze at me, but her face is calm. The din of the crowded restaurant surrounds us but doesn’t muffle my words. I want her to hear my confidence in her. I hold her eyes with mine.

  “I’ll help you, Kayla.” The whites of her eyes grow under luscious lashes. “I will. I’ll do everything I can to help you. For Dad. And for you.”

  Kayla bounces from her seat and onto my lap, hugging me as if for dear life.

  My face is in her neck. Her scent is intoxicating. But I don’t want to lose this moment.

  “I know what it’s like to lose someone important. I’d be a real piece of shit to not help you,” I say, pulling back to face her and letting out a weak laugh. Involuntarily, it’s followed by a prolonged sigh.

  As if reading my mind, she says softly, “I’m sorry about Arria. And that I wasn’t at the funeral. I—”

  I shake my head and hold both of her hands in mine. “Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s in the past.”

  “I should have been there for you, ” she groans as if in physical distress with eyes looking wistful. “I didn’t want to see you in pain, but… I should have been there. I didn’t try to be there and I should have. If I had been there, you wouldn’t hate me. You’d have had someone to talk to.”

  Another sigh escapes my body. “Look, Kayla. Yes. I wasn’t too happy that you missed the funeral. I wanted you there and your absence… I felt it. I resented you for not reaching out, not trying. But I didn’t hate you. I can be disappointed. I can be resentful. I can be foaming at the mouth with rage. But I cannot hate you, Kayla.”

  I place both of my hands on her face and look into her eyes. “I just need you to try more. In everything. In our relationship, in moving on from Dad’s death, and especially in the Academy. Do we have a deal?”

  Kayla sniffles and nods enthusiastically. “Deal.”

  Chapter Eight

  Kayla

  “Good. Because you can be great, if you would just apply yourself.” Zach’s tone is assuring.

  He continues. “When you want something you take it. Like all those times you came to see me to for help even though I was trying not to see you. You sure didn’t care about what I thought, you just stopped on by and tried to get what you needed.”

  Okay, that was less assuring.

  Zach doesn’t pick me up from my apartment. He s
hows up to the restaurant before me and doesn’t even wait for me to order his food. He agrees to help me but then goes on to bring up some of my lower moments in life. He wipes tears from my eyes but details how he disliked me and ignored me for a long time because of something I did, or rather, something I didn’t do at a hard, emotional moment in his life.

  “You could have come to see me any day the of the week for any reason, but every time you came to my door it was because I had something you wanted,” Zach states in a morose tone as his eyes shift their focus inward, recalling memories.

  To say I’m receiving mixed signals is the understatement of the goddamn century. I’ve watched Korean soap operas without subtitles and felt less confused then than I do right now.