All Messed Up: Windy City Kink, Book 2 (11 page)

Tim nodded. “Well. Yeah.”

“She got pregnant right after that trip. With me.” Again Joe waited.

He knew the exact moment when Tim got it. He watched Tim’s face, felt time slow and bend. He watched Tim’s eyes move, flickering, widening, then going out of focus as he stared into space. Then his gaze snapped back to Joe’s face.

“Fuck no,” he whispered.

Joe gave a terse nod. His heart thudded so heavily he almost couldn’t breathe and his fingers trembled where they rested on his jeans-covered knees.

More silence expanded around them and Joe felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. This moment. This was what he’d come there for. To know his real father. He waited for his reaction, trepidation a hard knot in his chest.

“That can’t be,” Tim said harshly. “She would have told me.”

Joe swallowed again. “She didn’t.”

Tim’s head moved from side to side, his mouth a grim line. “No.”

“I just found out myself,” Joe said in a low voice. “Like I said, a week ago. My grandmother was actually the one who spilled it, and then my mom had to tell me. My dad…I mean…well, you know what I mean…has always known.”

“Fuck,” Tim said again. He passed a hand over his face. “I don’t…” He gave Joe another hard stare. “What are you doing here? You live here? In California?”

“No.” Joe shook his head. “I live in Chicago. I came here…to see you.”

“I think you should go.”

Joe froze. He gaped at the older man. “What?”

“I think you should go.” Tim stood. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

“No.”

“Christ. Jesus Christ.”

Joe rose to his feet too, legs stiff. “I-I’m sorry. I know this is a shock.”

“Fuck yeah, it is.” Strain etched Tim’s face. “This is a bad idea. Seriously. You need to leave. Go back to Chicago.”

Pain crashed in on Joe. Tightness crawled up his spine and coldness slithered over his skin. He nodded and began to walk to the door, every step disjointed and creaky. But he was used to this. He could deal with this. Every disappointment and rejection he’d ever felt from the man he’d thought was his father had prepared him for this.

So he flashed a plastic smile and tried to relax his shoulders. “Sorry to bother you, man. I thought you might want to know you have a son. But hey, I don’t want to cramp your style at all. Not my intention.” He held out a business card. “Here. Throw it away if you want. If you ever want to get in touch—” And then he couldn’t do it. Words deserted him. He had to get the hell out of there. “I’m staying at the Aztec for the next few days.”

He legged it out of there before his biological father could further reject him.

Chapter Eleven

He sat in the car for a few minutes, eyes burning, chest aching, chaos clamoring inside him. What the fuck had he expected? Seriously. What sixty-year-old guy wanted a thirty-year-old son showing up out of the blue, a son he never knew he had? Of course he’d reject him. Joe had no idea why he’d thought there was any other possibility. That was his life. He’d dealt with this before. He’d deal with it again. He was just so fucking pissed at himself, for even coming here and doing this and opening himself up to this. He slammed a hand on the steering wheel and bent his head.

He started the car and drove to the hotel. Once more he needed to focus to keep from blasting blindly through red lights or driving over a curb. He passed by a liquor store, neon lights flashing in the now dark evening, and slammed on the brakes. Booze was an excellent idea.

He grabbed a bottle of Grey Goose and a case of beer then tossed a couple of bags of potato chips on the counter. He had no idea why—he wasn’t even close to hungry. In fact, he vaguely felt like he might upchuck the burger and fries he’d eaten earlier.

Back in the room, he opened a beer and downed it like a frat boy on spring break. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and moved across the room to stare out at the bay. The Queen Mary was all lit up like Christmas, lights winking off other boats bobbing on the water, everything else velvety black. It was actually kind of pretty. His lips twisted.

Whatever. So he got a week off work in sunny California. Nothing wrong with that.

He stretched out on the bed and picked up the remote for the big flat screen television. Another sense of déjà vu swept over him and he actually glanced at the empty spot on the bed beside him, the spot where Mallory had slept last night in that other hotel room.

Mallory.

He flicked through channels, looking for something to distract him, finally finding
Die Hard
. He’d only seen it about ten times, but hey, it was some action he could get into. He downed another beer and then went for the vodka.

Somehow Mallory hadn’t told her parents about what was going on at work. She’d talked about the new drug for treating bipolar disorder and how hard she’d been working on developing the marketing plan, long hours, yada yada yada blah blah blah. It just hadn’t seemed the right timing. And…she was afraid. After dinner they’d watched a little television and then Mallory’d gone to bed early.

But she didn’t feel sleepy so she read. She’d been lying there for a while reading on her e-reader when her phone started chiming on the dresser where she’d plugged it in to charge. It was funny, she didn’t often actually talk on her phone but used it more for e-mails and texting, so an actual call was weird. Curious, she pushed back the covers and crossed to the dresser. Staring at the screen she saw “Joe” on the call display.

Her heart gave a bump against her breastbone. Joe. Then she blinked and stabbed the button to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey. Mallory?”

“Yeah.”

“Whatshup?”

She blinked again. “Um…what’s up with you? Why are you calling me?”

“I dunno, ackshly.”

Jesus. “Are you…drunk?”

He made a rude noise. “Drunk? No! I am shit-faced.” And then he laughed.

Mallory unplugged her phone and moved to sit on the side of the bed. “I figured so. What’s going on?”

“Not much. Wanna come drink with me?”

“Um. Well…”

“Come on, Mal. I got a nice hotel room again. Party for two. I have booze.”

“Great. But I was already in bed.”

“Perfect. Come as you are.”

She wanted to smile, but for some reason she was worried about him. “I can’t, Joe.”

“Why not? You bin drinkin’ too?”

“No.” The glass of wine she’d had earlier had been a long time ago. “Aren’t you in Long Beach?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t come all the way there at this time of night.”

“Oh.” He sighed. “Yeah. I guess. Shit.”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure, sure. I’m always okay.”

“Why are you drunk all by yourself in a hotel room? Did you go see your dad?”

Silence. Then she heard a faint noise and realized he was swallowing. She frowned.

“Yeah. I dropped by his place. Don’t wanna talk about that. It’s not really that late, you know. You were already in bed?”

“Yes.” It was only a little after ten o’clock. “I was still tired.” She paused. “You kept me awake all last night.” Then she closed her eyes. Why had she said that? Reminding them both of the time they’d spent together served no good purpose.

He gave a low laugh. “I remember.” Then he sighed again. “Damn. Sorry to bug you. Just…didn’t wanna be alone right now.”

Her heart squeezed. “Why not, Joe?”

More silence. “Just…stuff.”

“With your dad. Tell me. What’s going on with that?”

“Long story.”

“Will you tell me…if I come see you?”

After a short pause, he said, “Maybe.”

She pressed her lips together. How was she going to tell her parents she wanted to go out? At ten o’clock on a Sunday night, when she’d just gotten there and had already gone to bed because she was so tired, she was going to tell them she was going to visit a guy in a hotel room, a guy she’d just met yesterday at the airport? The thought was enough to have a nearly hysterical laugh bubbling up inside her.

She nibbled her bottom lip, trying to figure out what to do. Joe was drunk and sad. He’d called her for a reason, even though he wasn’t really saying much other than he didn’t want to be alone. And that was like a hand reaching out and squeezing her heart. What if he wasn’t okay, like he said he was? What was going on with him?

But she couldn’t be that girl again—doing something crazy like going to see him right now. What would her parents think? And she’d need to use one of their cars, since she didn’t have one of her own.

Shit.

She sighed and rose to her feet. “I’m not sure if I can come, Joe. Hang on.”

She opened her bedroom door and peered out into the hall. Her parents’ door was shut and no light showed beneath it. They were already in bed. She hesitated, one foot stacked on top of the other. Okay. She wouldn’t bother them. She’d borrow one of their cars, go see Joe and she’d be back in a few hours. They’d never even know.

“Okay,” she whispered, backing into her bedroom and closing the door. “Hang on. I’ll be there in a little while. Where are you exactly?”

“The Aztec. On Queensh…Queensway Drive.”

“I think I know it. Don’t pass out on me, okay?”

“I’m good. Thanks, babe. See you soon.”

She ended the call and dropped the phone on the bed while she changed. She’d unpacked earlier, and she pulled on a clean pair of jeans, a tank top and a hoodie. She paused as she slid her feet into flip-flops, looking down at her bright red toenails, remembering Joe’s appreciation of her feet. She swallowed hard.

The keys for the cars were still kept on the rack by the back door. Her mom’s car was parked in the driveway, so she took it, slipping quietly out the door and locking it behind her. Her parents’ bedroom at the back of the house was far enough away that they wouldn’t hear, as she well knew from past experience.

Her stomach knotted. This was a great way to repay her parents for all the grief she’d caused them—sneaking out to meet a man, just like she had in high school, and the fallout from that had been spectacular. Epic. Tragic.

She pushed those memories away. This wasn’t the same. She was concerned about Joe. Sure, she barely knew him, but they’d gotten to be…friends…in the last two days. Lovers. But still, friends.

She hit the freeway and traffic was light, so she made good time to Long Beach. She remembered which exit to take and soon cruised along Queensway Drive. There was a parking lot and she only hesitated a few seconds before driving in, pulling a ticket from the dispenser. It’d probably cost a few bucks for an hour or so, but she didn’t want to drive around trying to find a spot on a street.

She texted Joe as she walked into the hotel.
What room number?

His response came seconds later.
522
.

She rode the empty elevator to the fifth floor, found his room and knocked. The door opened and Joe stood there shirtless, wearing low-slung jeans with the button undone and bare feet. She gulped as her gaze rose from his toes up over long legs and the ridged abdominal muscles and pecs to his tousled hair and crooked smile. He seemed to have sobered up a little since their phone call.

“Hi,” he said. “Am I ever glad to see you.”

Argh. How could a girl resist that body, that smile and those words? She paused before walking into his room, with a sinking feeling that she was getting herself into big trouble here.

She eyed the empty beer bottles and the half-full bottle of vodka. “Party for one, it looks like,” she said dryly.

“Wanna drink? Beer or Grey Goose?”

“No thanks. Do you have any pop?”

He frowned. “No. But there’s a vending machine down the hall. I’ll go get you one.” He shoved a hand into his jeans pocket. She pushed him down to sit on the bed. “Never mind. I don’t need anything.”

“Sure? I’ve got beer.”

“We’ll see. I can’t stay long. I didn’t tell my parents I was coming so I have to be back in a while.”

“What?” His mouth dipped at the corners. “You’re not staying all night?”

“No.”

“Well, damn. That’s not fair.”

She sat beside him and picked up one of his big hands in hers. His hands were strong and masculine, with long fingers and neat nails. “I came because I was worried about you. Tell me what happened.”

He stared down at their joined hands and said nothing for a long moment. Then, “Fuck.”

“That good, huh?”

“Oh man, Mallory. I don’t know why I came here.”

“You said your dad didn’t know you were coming.”

“Yeah. That’s right. The truth is…he didn’t know he’s my dad.”

Her mouth fell open. She didn’t want to get in the way of what he had to say, didn’t want to judge or ask too many questions, even though her head immediately filled with them, so she kept quiet.

“Okay, here’s the whole pathetic story. Told you my dad hates me.”

Is that what he’d said? She searched back through her memory for that conversation. “You said you could never please him.”

“Yeah. That was it. I always thought…I mean, I never really understood why that was. Why he liked Mitch and Jamie more than me. I was the youngest, so I thought maybe that was it. Maybe the first two kids took up all his time and all his love. Maybe there wasn’t enough left for me. My mom always tried to make it better, but I knew…I could always see that she got it. She knew something was wrong but she pretended there wasn’t. Made excuses for him. Tried to protect me. But I knew what was going on. I mean…” He snorted. “I thought I knew. Turns out I didn’t have a hot clue.”

She nodded and shifted on the bed so she could face him. He did the same and they sat cross-legged, holding hands. She watched the emotions pass across his face, saw the pain in his eyes, and her heart hurt for him.

“About a week ago, went to visit my grandma at the nursing home. She has Alzheimer’s. It’s not good. She still knows who we are, but she says a lot of things that don’t make sense. She can’t remember what she had for breakfast, but she remembers stuff from thirty years ago. Thirty years ago when I was born. And she told me the story about how my mom had an affair and got pregnant with another man’s baby. She had no idea she was telling me something I shouldn’t hear, because she didn’t connect that baby with me, who I am now, who I was, sitting there in front of her. At first I was barely paying attention.”

“Oh God,” she breathed.

“And then my mind sort of clicked and everything made sense. Every. Fucking. Thing.” He closed his eyes. “I went to see my mom and asked her if it was true and she admitted it. She and Dad—the man I thought was my dad—were having some problems. On some kind of crazy whim, she decided to go visit…Tim. They’d been together before that. I don’t know what happened between them, but they broke up and she married my dad and had two kids. Tim moved to California. She went to see him and…” His voice cracked. “And she got pregnant.”

Mallory’s entire body pulsed with the pain she could see etched on Joe’s face.

“My dad knew,” he continued quietly. “He’s always known I’m not his son. Nobody ever said anything. Don’t know if he and my mom ever talked about it. Don’t think so. It was always something that lurked in the background, just a weird ugly feeling. I didn’t know what it was…but now I do.”

“Oh, Joe.” Her fingers tightened on his, her throat aching.

“Tried so hard to be what he wanted. Tried everything I could. It was never enough. Fuck!” He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. Then he gave it a shake and she watched him trying to put that mask back on, the one where he pretended he didn’t care. But it didn’t quite work.

“My mom told me who he was. Who he is. My real father. And I got this idea that I had to come meet him.” He paused again and his Adam’s apple jerked and his jaw clenched. “So yeah. I didn’t tell him I was coming. It was a stupid idea. Don’t know what I thought was going to happen. But he told me to get lost.”

She sucked in air through her teeth. “Oh no.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Guess I can’t blame him. Some guy shows up out of the blue and says he’s your long lost son you never even knew you had—that’s hard to deal with.”

“He didn’t have to be rude.”

Joe laughed, a harsh mirthless sound that made her flinch. “Rude. Yeah. I’m so offended by his rudeness. What the fuck ever. I need another drink.” He made to get off the bed, but she wouldn’t let go of his hands and held him back.

“No, you don’t. You’ve had enough.”

“Uh. No. I haven’t.” But he stayed on the bed.

She released his hands and scooted forward, climbing onto his lap and twining her arms around his neck. She pressed her cheek to his.

His arms came around her too, tightening more and more until she almost couldn’t breathe he was squeezing her so hard. But she didn’t mind. She wanted to hold him, didn’t know any other way to comfort him. What could she say? What could anyone say?