The CEO's Little Surprise

He ripped the envelope open and his vision went a little gray. No question. He was a father.

Lauren perched on his couch but he couldn’t sit down, not until he got the most important question answered.

“Why?” he burst out as he absently paced the strip of hardwood between the couch and the fireplace. “Why didn’t she tell me? I would have helped her with the medical bills. Paid for diapers and teddy bears. I would have—”

His throat seized.

Liked to be involved. But he couldn’t finish the thought, not with the way his chest had gotten so tight that he couldn’t breathe. All this time. Briana had been raising a baby without his help. Without even bothering to tell him he’d fathered a son. He’d have supported her if he’d known. She shouldn’t have had to worry about anything.

And now it was too late.

Lauren bit her lip. “I argued with her about that. I really did. But she insisted you wouldn’t want the baby and she was scared you’d make her have an abortion.”

Gage’s vision blacked out for a long minute. Rage tore through his chest and he thought he’d lose it if he couldn’t punch something. Make her terminate her pregnancy?

Life was precious, so precious. That core belief was the one sole gift Nicolas’s death had given him. The fact that Briana didn’t know that about him infuriated him. Except how could he blame her? It spoke to the shallowness of their relationship that she’d assumed he wouldn’t want his son.

Gradually, he uncurled his fists and breathed until he could speak.

“Fine, okay. I get that she didn’t tell me because she—wrongly—assumed I wouldn’t support her decision to raise her child. Nothing could be further from the truth. The baby is my responsibility and I appreciate the fact that you’ve come to me so I can do the right thing.”

His vision went dim again as he processed what the right thing actually translated into. After years of cutting all ties with women as quickly as possible, one had managed to hook him with the ultimate string. For a guy who had no practice with commitment, he was about to get a crash course.

He was a father. A single father. His child’s mother was dead and he had to step up. His carefree days of living life to the fullest had just come to a screeching halt with a set of brakes called parenthood.

And he’d never even held his son. What was he going to do?

All at once, he wished he’d asked Cass to be here with him. It made no sense. But he wanted to hold her hand.

“About that.” Lauren scooted to the edge of the couch, brow furrowed as she leaned closer to Gage. “I’d like to formally adopt Robbie.”

“Adopt him?” he parroted because his brain was having a hard time processing. Lauren wasn’t here to pass off Briana’s son to his father?

“That’s actually why I contacted you, to discuss the paperwork that my lawyer is drawing up. You’ll have to sign, of course, because you’re the legal father on record. But it’s just a formality,” she said quickly. “I’m not asking for any child support or any split custody. He’d be all mine and you can go about your life. I’m sure you’re totally unprepared to be a father.”

It was as though she’d read his mind.

Something that felt an awful lot like relief washed through him. He’d give her money, of course. That was nonnegotiable. But Lauren could pick up where Briana left off and all of this would go away.

And the relief kicked off a pretty solid sense of shame. “So you want me to sign away all rights to my kid?”

“Well, yeah. Unless Briana was wrong and you are interested in being a father?” she asked tremulously, as if afraid of the answer, and tears welled up in her eyes. “You’ve never even met Robbie. I love him like my own son. He’s a piece of Briana and I can’t imagine giving him up. It would be best if he stayed with the family he’s always known.”

“I don’t know if that is best,” he admitted and his stomach rolled.

He should be agreeing with her. He should be asking her for papers to sign. Right now. What better circumstances could he have hoped for than to learn he had a son but someone else wanted him? It was practically a done deal.

But he couldn’t. Somehow, he’d developed a fierce need to see this kid he’d fathered. He needed it to be real, and meeting his flesh and blood was the only way he could sign those papers in good conscience.

“I didn’t know my son existed before today,” he heard himself saying as if a remote third party had taken over his body and started spitting out words without his permission. “And you’re coming in here like it’s all already decided. How can I know what’s best for him? I want to meet him first.”