Mine to Hold(4)

Son of a bitch, he’d bet the split was ugly. And why did she keep glancing behind her?

“Delaney . . .” Tyler didn’t know what the hell to say. It wasn’t all his fault. But a good deal of the blame rested on his shoulders. The need to know why she was here now also kept circling his brain.

“It’s okay. I know you have company and that this is uncomfortable. I know I handled everything between us badly in the past. I’m sorry. I regret it like hell.”

Delaney’s blue eyes filled up with tears. As she fought them back, Tyler resisted the urge to comfort her as he had when they’d been friends . . . then more.

“Can I come in? There’s something we really need to talk about—and we shouldn’t do it on your porch.”

Everything inside Tyler seized up. The last time they’d talked, she’d asked him to leave, then cut him out of her life. Whatever was on her mind, it would be heavy. She hadn’t come all the way to Lafayette from Los Angeles to shoot the shit.

Despite everything, how the hell could he say no? He’d ruined her life, and deep down, he’d been pretty damn sure that would be the outcome the second the deed was done. He owed her. Besides, he’d never been in love . . . but he’d come perilously close with Delaney.

“Sure.” He swallowed, grabbed her duffel, and stepped back. “Come in. How did you know I had company?”

Delaney glanced at the object with the tall plastic handle beside her, the rest hidden by the exterior wall of the porch. She looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I rang the doorbell a bit ago, and no one answered. So I popped around to the side of the house and . . . saw that you weren’t alone.”

“They’re my buddies’ wives.” He’d meant the words as an explanation, a defense. Then he winced. God, Delaney probably already imagined—with good reason—that he was f**king each and every one of them.

“It’s none of my business.” She glanced at the hidden object beside her again, then the empty street behind her. “I came because I need your help. Really badly and right now.”

“You look tired, Del. And too thin. Come in and tell me what you need.”

She drew in a deep breath, then bent to the hidden item just beside her. A trunk? A dolly? Did she mean to move in?

A moment later, she straightened up, clutching a child. A little boy. He was deadweight in her arms, half asleep, his face against her shoulder, thick blond hair askew. Tyler’s heart skidded to a stop.

The kid’s meaty hands and feet peeked out beyond the arms and legs of his Spider-Man pajamas that were just a bit too small. He hooked one arm around Delaney’s neck, then began rubbing an eye with his little fist. Then the kid turned. That little face possessed the Murphy nose. His own green eyes, uncertain and watchful, stared back at him.

Tyler’s entire body went cold. His jaw dropped as his mind came to a screeching halt. Oh God. Oh f**king God . . .

“Tyler, meet your son, Seth.”

His son. Tyler had known this kid was his at a glance. A thousand emotions pelted him at once. Shock blazed through his system first. Wonder crashed in next.

He had a son. He and Delaney had created life together that beautiful May night when he’d finally stopped seeing her as a friend and had little choice but to touch her as a woman.

But she’d never bothered to tell him. Had she even tried to find him or just decided that he was irrelevant and had the child on her own?

Fury swept over him, relentless. One scathing accusation after another perched on the edge of his tongue. Gritting his teeth, he pushed it down for the boy’s sake.

“Hi, Seth,” he spoke in soft tones, then speared Delaney with a glare that dared her to defy him. “I want to hold him now.”

Suddenly, Tyler ached to. This was his son. His . . . with her.

Regret made Delaney’s mouth tremble as she nodded. She kissed the little boy’s head, then whispered, “It’s okay, little man.”

Seth frowned and watched him suspiciously, but went into his arms without a fight. Then Tyler was holding his son for the first time, wrapping him as tightly in his arms as he dared.

He tried to swallow, but his throat felt too tight. His jaw ached. His heart beat fast, like a f**king racehorse at the Kentucky Derby. Something warm flooded his chest. Tyler had never fallen instantly in love with anything or anyone, but Seth seized his heart in a single moment. He kissed the little boy’s forehead, and the feeling swelled tenfold.

“Why am I just now finding out about him?” Tyler tried to keep his voice calm and even. But his eyes accused her. What he really wanted to know was how the f**k she could have robbed him of the first fifteen months of his own son’s life.

She glanced at the street behind her again apprehensively and shimmied out of the porch’s light. “You have every right to be angry. Things were complicated, and you became impossible to find once you moved out of state. And I know those seem like poor excuses. At the end of the day, I didn’t know what to tell you or if you’d even care. You can take it out of my hide later. I’m sure I deserve it. But right now, I need your help. I need you to protect Seth.” She swallowed, her red-rimmed eyes looking stark and afraid. “Someone is trying to kill me.”

***

TYLER’S face changed immediately, closing up, tensing. Cop mode; she recognized it. He might not be an LAPD Vice detective anymore, but some instincts never changed.