and chased her for all the wrong reasons.
Goddamn it. I was an idiot. Blind to the most obvious thing any other man would have instantly realized from his woman. I knew Mandy was in trouble. She acted distant, was sick with stress. She guarded herself as best she could against my charm, but I’d never met a woman I couldn’t seduce.
We hadn’t moved too fast, I just never stopped to see what she needed along the way.
And it was me.
Or I thought it was.
I drove until I had no other place to go. Then I pulled into my parents’ driveway.
It was late, but the light in the study was on. Dad said he prayed better at night, but he still enforced a strict silence during the day when Mom and I were home.
The curtains stirred. I had a key for emergencies, but I never used it. As far as I was concerned, I escaped the house. That severed all ties.
Except now.
Figured.
I knocked. Dad answered after a moment. He stood in the doorway, somehow colder than the door itself. I matched his scowl.
It was a mistake to come here.
“Nathan.” Dad’s voice rang with condescension. “Would you like to come in?”
Any other father would have extended the invitation as a means to console an obviously troubled son. Not my father. His sneer was vindicating, as though he expected this moment. He’d always warned me of my errant ways and womanizing.
Except Pastor Kensington wasn’t afraid for my mortal soul. He wanted to make sure our good name wasn’t marred by my indiscretions.
So he’d probably love this.
I accepted the invitation inside, but I lurked in the entryway like a stranger. I followed him to his study. Nothing had changed there. No dust. Not a spec of anything out of place. The only clutter he permitted was his Bible, and even that was for show.
He sat behind his desk with a brand new laptop, probably purchased through the church. The silence crackled.
“Where’s Mom?” I asked.
“Asleep, as most decent people are at this hour.” Dad didn’t blink. “Why is my son out so late?”
“I got news.”
“News? You don’t call your mother. You don’t attend church. You don’t respect me. What makes you think I’m interested in your news?”
“You’ll find out sooner rather than later. Probably best if it’s sooner.”
“Then perhaps you should start with an apology to your honored father?” Dad always was a stickler for humility. “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”
I gritted my teeth. “Luke 15:21.”
“Very good.”
“I’m not the prodigal son returning.”
“Of course you aren’t. So why are you here?”
I sucked in a breath. “Mandy Prescott is pregnant.”
Dad didn’t blink. “Yours?”
“Yes.”
If he was surprised, he hid it well. I didn’t look away, meeting his green eyes. Mom always said we looked alike, but the similarities ended there.
“Marry the girl.”
I knew it was coming. “I tried. She refused.”
“Try again. This is important. Both of our families are respected in this community. I’d hate to think what a scandal like this would cause.”
“It’s not a scandal. It’s 2016. People get knocked—” I hated to say it. “These things happen.”
“Not to Kensingtons.”
“Even to us, Dad. We’re not untouchable.”
“No thanks to you. I’ve dealt with your misbehavior and foolishness long enough, Nathan. You’ve brought nothing but shame upon this family, and now you’ve caused more. Have you any idea what people will say about this? My own son, getting a woman into trouble? A Prescott?”
I stiffened. “What’s her family got to do with it? They’re members of your church.”
“It’s not her family, son. Use your head. She’s a…and your…”
I knew my father, and I expected that, but it still pissed me off. “That’s my child you’re talking about.”
“Don’t pretend to be attached to something you didn’t know existed an hour ago.”
“Who cares how long I’ve known?” I stood. “Since when does it matter what color my baby is?”
“Do you care nothing for the reputation of this family?”
I might have breathed fire. Every breath strained my lungs. “I care about Mandy. I care about my baby. And if you were a real father, you’d understand.”
“Sit down before you wake the neighborhood…or perhaps we should. Does her mother know?”
“No.”
“Well, I should be delighted that I’m the first to hear of this wonderful blessing.” He frowned. “You have ruined yourself and that girl. You must make it right, Nathan. Marry her.”
“I tried,” I said. “She doesn’t want to marry me.”
Dad snorted. “And why would she? Not like your