The Shepherd (The Game 6)

“You’ve made my day.” He managed a wobbly grin that I had to kiss. “Just, um…one small thing.” He eased back a little and became fidgety. “Lydia doesn’t need me to take care of her son. She does, however, need me to take care of my own kid.”

Your own fucking what now?

I smashed my lips together and kinda froze right where I stood, and I pinned him with a stare so tense that my eyes hurt.

Archie had a child?

“I was going to tell you at dinner tomorrow.” He cleared his throat and brought out his phone. His nervousness was clear as day, and his fingers trembled slightly as he opened his photo album. “This is Kyla. She recently turned one.”

I…had nothing.

Except, that was a surrogate baby, because she had Archie’s eyes. The color wasn’t as deep, but the resemblance was unmistakable. That little girl in the black onesie that read “I can be as contrary as I choose” was Archie’s daughter.

“I told you, Greer,” he said quietly. “Meeting you made me see exactly what I wanted.”

Yeah. The same things I’d dreamed of.

I swallowed hard and managed to look away from the photo. Words could not describe the amount of envy that built up, and…regret too. And irrational anger. Because if our fantasy hadn’t been interrupted by his cheating on Angelo and…Angelo himself, that could’ve been my daughter too.

Definitely irrational anger.

I’d made my own choices.

When Archie and I met, he’d asked why I hadn’t adopted or gone the surrogate route. If I had, I would’ve been a dad now, with or without Archie by my side. But I’d had my excuses, some pragmatic and very much real, and some less so. Archie had climbed that mountain all on his own, not letting anything stand in his way. I had stubbornly maintained that I didn’t want to be a single parent.

The more I thought about it, the more irrational I became. I could even direct some of my anger to Sloan, because it was his kids I’d devoted so much time to, and Jesus Christ, I heard my own thoughts—I was losing my fucking mind. Sloan hadn’t encouraged me to expend energy on his children; I’d done that by my own choice, and I’d fallen for kids I had zero claim to.

“Say something, please.” Archie took a step closer, and I saw the plea in his gaze.

Fuck.

I looked away and coughed into my fist. Time for damage control. “This has everything to do with my life’s biggest regret and nothing to do with you, Archie.” A breath gusted out of me, and I tugged at his hand, wanting my arms around him. “I have no doubt you’re a wonderful dad.”

He exhaled and rested his cheek on my sternum. “Pipe dreams, Sir. Believe harder and stop thinking you’re too old to—” He was interrupted by a louder round of cooing and babbling from the baby monitor, and the sound tore through me like the sweetest heartbreak. “She’s just not falling asleep anytime soon.”

I kissed him on the forehead, not ready to process the first thing he’d said. “I guess I should let you go for tonight.”

He lifted his chin and smoothed his finger along the neckline of my tee. “Unless your offer stands…?”

I furrowed my brow.

“I work from home, and Kyla’s only at day care twice a week because I want her to be around other kids.” He glanced up at me, hesitant. “I completely understand if it’s too soon.”

Was he serious?

“Go pack your bag,” I told him, even pointing toward the door. “The baby girl can sleep in Loki’s old crib, I have a blender and know how to make baby food, and I’ve had four kids take baths in the kitchen sink over the years. I’m good to go.”

The smile that lit up his face was enough to live on. “Give me five minutes—I’ll be right back.”

I nodded with a dip of my chin and watched him hurry back inside the house.

Pipe dreams, Sir. Believe harder.

“Sweet Jesus,” I exhaled and scrubbed at my face.

When had I turned into such a chickenshit quitter?

My fears and worries would only turn me into a self-fulfilling prophecy. What I needed to do was just step off the ledge and see where the wind would take us. Maybe we’d crash and burn. But maybe we wouldn’t. Maybe we’d work our asses off and watch our dreams come true. And what if he was right? What if I wasn’t too old to have it all?

That was a thought I hadn’t dared to entertain in years.

Moments later, Archie came out again, this time carrying a one-year-old, a car seat, a laptop bag, a duffel bag, and half a package of diapers.

I jogged over to him to be of use. “Lemme help you.” But before, I had to touch Kyla’s chubby cheek. She was cute as fuck—and definitely not tired. She babbled and looked to her daddy. “She’s precious.”