Who's the Boss? - Erin McCarthy Page 0,59

or a couple of times to Europe with my father’s family. Maeve went to equestrian camp every year and at least twice she went to Paris with my mother. But I came here.”

That made me frown. What was his family’s issue with him? Sean wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the storefront directly before us.

“I didn’t mind, not exactly, because I was happier with my grandmother, but when I was seventeen and I found out that my father wasn’t actually my biological father, it made a whole lot more sense.”

“What?” I gaped at him. I had not expected him to say that.

He turned and gave me a shrug. “Yep. Turns out my mother went on a cruise with her girlfriends and got a whole lot more than a tan. My father found out when I was eleven and while he wasn’t cruel to me, he distanced himself. I think my mother always looked at me and was internally wincing at her lack of judgment.”

“That’s horrible. It’s not like it was your fault.” I was appalled for him.

“No. That’s why grandmother was my safe haven.” Sean shook his head slowly. “I don’t know why I just told you that. No one knows I’m not actually my father’s son except for Michael. I don’t even think my sister knows. I did tell Jasmine when I was about twenty-four and my mother had said something really cutting in front of my girlfriend. I was embarrassed and needed to share with her. But other than that? No one knows. Not extended family, not friends.”

The comments his mother had made to me made more sense now. She looked at her son and saw all her own flaws. That she wanted to play up his promiscuity and unable to settle down was a deflection away from her own guilt.

I reached out and put my hand over his. “Thanks for sharing something so personal. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been to deal with.”

He turned his hand and laced our fingers together. “Thanks, Isla. Most of the time it doesn’t bother me, but I do miss my grandmother.”

“Do you know who your biological father is?”

“Some dude from Scotland who had a charming accent and was the chef on board the ship.” He grinned. “A therapist would love that but I swear it has nothing to do with anything. Maybe genetically I’m drawn to food, but I’m not some guy trying to connect with a man he’s never met. I really don’t care who the guy is other than to feel bad that he has DNA walking around and has no clue.”

“That is a little crazy, isn’t it?” I tried to imagine not hating my parents forever if they had kept a secret like that from me. But not only did Sean not seem resentful he put up with his mother’s shit. I was impressed with how prosaic he was about the whole situation. It could not have been easy to learn he wasn’t who he thought he was.

My heart squeezed. I definitely had misjudged Sean. He was a decent man.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” He let go of my hand and opened his door.

“Inside where?” I glanced around for a coffee shop. I could use a cup. Driving almost two hours in the spring sunshine had made me sleepy.

“My building.” Sean came around to open my door but I was already out. He shut it behind me. “I bought this one.” He pointed to the storefront in red brick with two floors above. “For my future restaurant.”

“What?” I was astonished. “You bought a building? Here?”

He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Yep. The prices here are much more affordable, obviously, but some day in the not-so-distant future I want to move here. Hopefully start a family.”

Oh, God, now I was really warm on the inside. I shoved my hands in my back pocket so I didn’t loop my arm through his and melt against him like a stick of butter. “That’s amazing, Sean. I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, because you can have my job once I leave,” he said, giving me a smile.

That made me laugh. “I know this is hard to believe, but I wasn’t even thinking about that. I was thinking it’s very cool you get to live out your dream.”

Sean found the key on his fob and opened the front door. It was hushed and chilly inside the building. He flicked on the lights. “Welcome to Sadie’s.”

“Sadie’s?”

He nodded. “My grandmother.”

Of course. I was