The Tycoon's Secret Daughter. Susan Meier
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trying to pretend everything was okay. All because Kate had kept them apart. And why? Because she was afraid? He’d never physically hurt her. Never.
He struggled with the urge to shout an obscenity and then struggled not to squeeze his eyes shut in frustration. He couldn’t think like this. He wasn’t allowed. He had to take responsibility for his actions. He couldn’t blame someone else.
He forced a smile for Trisha. “Sure. Yeah. I’d love a cookie.”
Bev offered the plate to him. He took one of the fat chocolate chip cookies. Nobody spoke.
After a few bites, Trisha broke the silence. “Do you like the cookie?”
This time his smile wasn’t forced. When he looked at her sweet face, he just wanted to hug her. He longed to put his arms around her and feel his own child in his arms.
“Yes. I like the cookie very much.” He cleared his throat, reminded himself to stay in the moment. If he was here for Trisha, he would be here for Trisha. Really here. “So what about your friends? Do you have lots of friends?”
“Sunny and Jeffrey.”
His gaze shot to Kate’s. “Her best friends are boys?”
Trisha giggled. The sound skipped along his nerve endings, warming his heart, filling him with awe. This was his daughter. His baby girl. If he wanted to be in her life, he couldn’t dwell in the past. He had to live in today. This minute.
“Sunny’s a girl.”
“Oh, I was thinking Sonny.”
She frowned.
He smiled. “Never mind. What’s your favorite game? Do you play T-ball? Little League?”
Confused by his question, Trisha glanced at her mom who said, “Those are sports.”
She faced him again with a big toothless grin. “No.”
Kate rose. “Do we want to do something?”
He glanced up at her.
She motioned with her hand. “So we have something to do other than trying to think of something to say.”
He looked at Trisha. “What would you like to do?”
She glanced down shyly. Kate stooped in front of her. “Why don’t you take your dad to the family room and have a tea party?”
Excitement filled her eyes. She nodded and led him down the hall, into a family room that was neat as a pin except for toys littering the brown tweed sofa and chair. A red plastic child-sized table sat in the center of the room. Dolls and stuffed animals sat on the yellow, blue and green chairs surrounding it.
Trisha plucked the toys from their seats and tossed them to the sofa before she pointed at one of the chairs. “You sit here.”
He peered down at the little plastic chair.
But before he could say anything, Kate said, “Maybe Daddy’s too big for a chair?”
That blasted, unwanted anger surged in Max again. “You don’t need to answer for me. You’ve made enough of my decisions to last a lifetime.”
Kate faced him, eyebrows arched as if asking if he really wanted to get into that fight now, and he immediately regretted saying anything. Especially in front of Trisha.
He backpedaled. “It’s just that the chair looks sturdy enough.” And he could also keep his weight shifted in such a way he wouldn’t put too much stress on it. He smiled at Trisha. “It’s fine.” And back at Kate. “I’ll be fine.”
Carefully, he lowered himself to the colorful chair and sighed gratefully when it held his weight. Though his knees were taller than the table and he felt like a giant, he was seated.
Trisha held out her teapot to her mom. “Can we have some tea?”
Kate took the pot. “Sure. I’ll get you some more cookies too.”
While she was gone, Trisha kept her attention on arranging little cups and saucers. “This is my snack.”
“Your snack?”
She almost looked at him. “My afternoon snack.”
“Oh.” He got it now. “So you’re not getting extra cookies.”
She glanced up. Actually looked at him this time. “Too much sugar isn’t good for me.”
He laughed, recognizing she’d probably repeated verbatim what she’d been told by her mom.
He made himself a little more comfortable on the chair. Trisha finally sat. Thirty seconds went by with neither of them saying a word. Panic filled him, along with the fear of total inadequacy. How did a man parent a child he was only now meeting?
Kate walked into the room carrying the teapot and a small plate with three cookies. She’d tucked her dark hair behind her ears, revealing the slim column of her throat. His gaze fell from her throat to her T-shirt, which perfectly outlined her breasts, to the trim line of her tummy exposed above the waistband of her jeans. His breath stuttered. His attraction to her sprang up like a lion that had been lying in wait in the African bush, confusing him. How could he be so damned attracted to a woman he was so damned angry with?
“One cookie for you. Two for your dad.”
Trisha sighed. “Because he’s bigger.”
“Exactly.”
She offered the plate of cookies to him, standing close enough that he could smell her cologne.
Telling himself he’d better get accustomed to being around her or he’d drive himself crazy, he took a cookie from the tray. “No cookie for you?”
She walked away and began gathering the toys from the sofa. “Not hungry. Besides, this isn’t my party. It’s yours. With your daughter. Enjoy it.”
Panic swamped him again. Unwanted attraction be damned. He needed Kate and she was deserting him.
Trisha poured the “tea.” Wary of the cleanliness of the plastic cup and whatever was inside, he cast Kate a questioning look. “Am I allowed to ask when these little cups were last washed?”
She laughed lightly. “We wash the tea set every time she uses it. It’s clean.”
Still cautious, he took a sip and discovered the drink was actually a grape punch of some sort. Dark enough to look like tea, but not really tea. “It’s good.”
“It’s the queen’s favorite.”
He glanced at Trisha. “The queen?”
Trisha pointed to an empty chair. “The queen comes to everyone’s tea parties.”
So out of his element he had no clue what to say or do, he again looked to Kate. But she was busy gathering toys. Either not paying attention or deliberately forcing him to figure out something to say. With her arms full, he expected her to walk to a toy box, but there was no box. Instead, she stacked the toys in an empty corner.
It suddenly occurred to him that she lived somewhere else. Somewhere so far away they’d never even accidentally bumped into each other. And she didn’t visit. So how did Trisha have toys here?
He knocked on the plastic table. “Are these new?”
Kate said, “Bought them our second day here. Trisha and I both needed a distraction.”
Remembering her dad’s stroke, sorrow unexpectedly swamped him. “I … um … I really am sorry about your dad.”
“He’ll be fine, but no one’s sure how long he’ll be in the hospital.” She reached for another toy. “So I took a three-month leave of absence so we can be here for Mom. That’s a long time to be away from home, and a little girl’s gotta be entertained, so we bought some stuff.”
He