CHAPTER FOUR
Marshall
My phone insisted, once again, on interrupting my heated thinking about Brianna.
Her lips tasted like nectar. Every layer of her mouth was laced with a need that I recognized instinctively as my own, our lips warring with a long-stifled desire to consume each other. I hadn’t wanted to stop.
But I had to stop.
The more I thought about her sweet, candied lips, the more I wanted them back, the ideas floating through my mind causing me to shake with a fervent lust that I didn’t know I held for her. I had originally thought of her as a crush, a woman who stole my attention simply because she was gorgeous, kind, and considerate.
But it was so much more than that.
And that was dangerous.
My phone buzzed once more, causing me to groan as I pinched the bridge of my nose. I took a steadying breath, swept my thumb over the screen to accept the call, and pressed the phone to my ear.
“Dr. Marshall Bishop.”
Silence echoed over the line. I cleared my throat and repeated my name, wondering if this blocked number was just another one of those extended car warranty calls.
“Marshall?” came a feminine voice.
I frowned. “Who is this?”
“It’s, uh...It’s Lydia.”
I blanched. “I thought I made it clear we were never to speak again.”
“You did. You said that. Yes, it was quite clear.”
“So, why the hell are you calling me?”
She sniffled; the approaching emotional wave inevitable at this point. I should have never answered my phone. But how could I have known it would be my ex-girlfriend? “I promise I’ve changed.”
“I’m not interested in that.”
“Well, I think you’ll be interested in your son.”
The floor of my apartment opened beneath me, metaphorical winds swooping in to knock me off my balance. I almost hit the ground with that statement. “My...son?”
“His name is Hector. And he’s five years old.”
I blinked rapidly as I tried to register precisely what she was telling me. After spending part of the evening both savoring and regretting the best kiss of my life, my ex-girlfriend was calling to inform me that I had a long, lost son—one that she had kept from me for the past five years.
“You’re kidding,” I spat. “Lydia, are you serious?”
“More than serious. You said you didn’t want to hear from me, so—”
My jaw tightened. “So, you just kept this little bit of information from me for five years?”
“I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“You seem to be doing fine now.” I paused, tapping my chin thoughtfully as I peered through the curtain of darkness around me. “What is it you want? Child support? Documents? Do you need me to sign over rights?”
She sighed shakily. “No, no. Nothing like that, Marsh. I want you to meet him. I want you to know him.”
“Why now?”
“Why not?”
I dropped my hand into my lap and shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
“I told you: I’ve changed. I’ve been going to therapy, getting help. I’ve been doing everything I can to be the best mother to him. My therapist suggested a meeting.”
“A meeting,” I scoffed. “How do I know you’re not lying?”
“Talk to him yourself.”
Muffled voices echoed through the phone line. Soon, a child’s voice came through, sweet and innocent like most children would sound at such an age: “Hello?”
“Hi.” What was I supposed to say? “Your name is...Hector?”
“That’s me. Are you my daddy?”
“I…” I trailed off, wiping my lips repeatedly out of sheer anxiety. This was it, wasn’t it? “I don’t know for sure, but I suppose we’ll find out.”
“Mommy says you’re a doctor. I want to be a doctor when I grow up.”
My heart warmed a little bit, some of the fear melting into the background as I bowed forward. “That’s a great career choice.”
“Mommy says I can meet you soon.”
“Well, your mother is right.” Crap, what was I doing? “Put your mother on the phone, champ.”
“Okay.”
The line erupted with static briefly before Lydia’s voice returned. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t know how to tell you. But I know now. I can do better now.”
“Lydia, this is a lot. I have to think this over.”
“He wants to meet you, Marsh.”
I frowned. “Stop calling me that.”