Goddamn, she was beautiful.
What was it about her that took all the oxygen from a room? Not to mention the way she sent blood rushing to my crotch. The sight of her brought back memories that caused my cock to surge.
But I couldn’t let on.
Immediately I’d seen how flustered Millie was, how uneasy Mason appeared, and my instinct to protect kicked in. I thought I’d done a good enough job smoothing things over—just the one error about the drink, and Millie had corrected course there.
Now, as I walked behind her, admiring those curves I’d been dreaming about since the night we’d met, I thought how fucked-up this situation was. She was Mason’s ex-girlfriend? What were the chances?
It was easy to see how we didn’t put it together—I didn’t even know she was from Michigan, let alone that she was a wedding planner. And she’d had no idea I had a newly found adult son getting married. A guy that she’d dated. A guy that she’d slept with.
Jesus.
I’d wanted to see her again. But not like this.
Even as my gut turned over, I hurried past her to get the door, and she murmured her thanks without making eye contact as she moved through it. Remaining in place, I held the door for everyone else. Mason and Lori were last, and we walked together toward the barn.
“Thank goodness the rain stopped, but it’s chilly, isn’t it?” Lori rubbed her arms and hurried ahead. “I’ll meet you guys in there!”
Mason and I walked shoulder to shoulder. I sensed his discomfort but didn’t know what to make of it.
“So it’s weird that you met Millie before,” he said.
“Small world, I guess.” I tried to sound casual.
“And you had a drink.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s it? Nothing happened?”
I glanced sharply at him. “Happened?”
“You know. Between you and Millie.” He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Sorry if this is weird to ask, I just got a strange feeling in there that there was more to the story.”
“There wasn’t. There isn’t.”
“I guess it’s not my business anyway,” he said. “You’re both adults, and it’s not like you knew that she was my ex-girlfriend, or she knew that you’re my father. I just . . . I guess I just like things to be out in the open. I’ve spent so many years of my life feeling like things were hidden from me. Wanting to know the truth and never getting answers. I hate that feeling.”
“I understand.”
We reached the door and he put a hand on it but didn’t pull it open. He looked me in the eye. “It means a lot to me, your honesty. We can’t change the past, but we can set the tone for the future. So if you give me your word, I’ll believe you.”
If I was going to tell the truth, I had to do it now—but there was no way I’d do it without Millie knowing. I had to keep up the lie. “You have my word. Nothing happened.”
He smiled, looking younger than twenty-eight, giving me a glimpse of the boy he’d been. “Okay. Thanks.”
For the next forty minutes or so, Millie and I successfully avoided eye contact. The room was all set up for the ceremony tomorrow, rows of white chairs set up on what was probably a dance floor at the far end of the room with a gold runner between them. A large arch made of greenery and decorated with white flowers stood at the head of the aisle in front of massive windows, and beyond it the autumn landscape of the farm was visible, trees aflame with scarlet and gold and burnt orange. It reminded me of seasons many years past, making me a little nostalgic for my early childhood in Ohio.
I mostly stayed out of the way as Millie went over the order of who’d be seated when, how the wedding party procession would go, and the timing of it all. She answered tons of questions from Lori and her mother in a reassuring and professional manner. Obviously excellent at her job, she impressed me even more because I knew that her mind must be reeling.
“So it goes groom and groomsmen in position, Lori’s grandparents seated, Lori’s mom seated, bridesmaids, maid of honor, flower girl and ring bearer, and then Lori and her dad,” Millie said. “Should we walk through it?”
“What about Zach?” Mason asked. “When does he get seated?”
“Oh.” Millie checked a clipboard, like the answer might be there somewhere. “Um, he could be seated . . . after the grandparents, before Lori’s mom?”
“I really don’t need to be recognized.” I put up my hands, inwardly hoping Mason would reconsider. “I don’t feel right about it, honestly.”
“But it’s important to me,” said Mason. “And you should sit in the front row.”
“I know,” said Lori’s mom, a well-dressed woman in a burgundy suit. “Why doesn’t he escort me to my seat? That way my husband can stay with Lori.”
“That’s perfect.” Lori nodded enthusiastically. “Great idea, Mom.”
Mrs. Campion walked over to me and smiled. “Okay with you, Zach?”
“Of course.”
Laughing, she offered me her arm. “Should we practice?”
“Yes,” said Millie, moving with efficiency to line everyone else up. “Lori and Mr. Campion, you’ll be out of sight over there. Gentlemen, you’ll line up with best man and groom last and head up the aisle to your place to the right of the arch. Ladies, flower girl, and ring bearer, you’ll be with the bride—line up with maid of honor and kids last.”
I did my part, walking Mrs. Campion up the aisle, leading her to her seat in the front row on the left, and then taking a seat in the first row, as Mason had requested.
The rest of the rehearsal went quickly, and then everyone headed back to the main lobby of the inn. I tried to linger behind in the hopes of catching a minute with Millie alone, but she stayed with the group, leading the way back across the path. It was dark now, and a few flurries were drifting down from the sky.
In the lobby, the group reassembled and made plans for driving over to the restaurant where dinner was being held. “Want to ride with us?” Mason asked me.
“No, thanks. I’ll meet you there.” I gave him a stiff smile. “I’m just going to use the men’s room before I leave.”
“Okay,” he said, helping Lori with her coat. “No rush—our reservation isn’t for another half hour, so we’ll probably hang out in the bar first. You’ve got the address?”
I nodded. “All good.”
Millie was still talking to Mrs. Campion, so I wandered out of the lobby toward the bar at the back of the inn. It was dark and intimate, and I wished more than anything Millie and I could spend the evening sitting at a corner table getting to know each other better . . . and then getting naked back in my hotel room.
But that was impossible.
She was Mason’s ex-girlfriend.
Grimacing at the thought, I ducked into the men’s room off the hallway. When I came out, I stopped short at the sight of Millie sitting at the bar by herself. That long wavy hair cascading down her back sent a pang of longing through me.
I glanced toward the front door, where I should’ve been heading, and back at her, where I wanted to be. In a split second, I made my decision and crossed the room in her direction.
I touched her shoulder. “Hey.”
She turned, surprised. “Oh! Zach, hi.” Glancing around me, she said, “I thought everyone left.”
“They did. I stayed back a minute. I was hoping to talk to you.” I looked down at the empty stool next to her. “Can I sit?”
“Of course.” She already had a martini in front of her, and she lifted it for a sip.
“Are you waiting for your dad?”
“Ah, that was a bit of a fib. I thought it best if I didn’t go to dinner, given the, um . . .” Her eyes dropped to my crotch for a half-second. “Circumstances.”
“You’re probably right.” The bartender approached, and I ordered an Old-Fashioned, figuring I had enough time for one quick drink.
“So this is a weird coincidence, huh?” She stirred her drink with the olives on the pick.
“To say the least.”
“I mean, I had no idea you were—” She shook her head and didn’t finish the sentence. “Not in a million years.”
I fought the urge to stand closer to her. “You know, I thought I saw you downtown last night, crossing a street. Then I was like, nah . . . couldn’t be.”
“Oh my God, same!” Her eyes went wide. “I thought I saw you this morning in a parking lot, going into a gym.”
“That was me,” I confirmed.
“It was probably me on the street too. I was downtown last night with my sisters.”
I nodded. “I had a feeling. But I told myself I was seeing things. What are the odds?”
“Speaking of numbers.” She looked at me curiously. “How is the math even possible? Not that it’s my business, but—”
“I was only eighteen. And I never knew about him,” I said, feeling like I owed her an explanation. The last thing I wanted her to think was that I’d abandoned a young pregnant girl. “Mason’s mom was only eighteen too, and we had a reckless thing that only lasted a few days. I had no idea she got pregnant, and she never told me about him. Or told him about me.”
“It’s such an odd choice to make—to keep a child from his father.” Millie’s expression was distressed. “I don’t understand it.”
“The circumstances were less than ideal,” I said. “Believe me, if I could go back knowing what I know now, I’d do things differently. But as it is, I can’t bring myself to judge Andi—Mason’s mom—for the decision she made. We were kids ourselves, barely out of high school. And I didn’t exactly leave her with the best impression of me.” I gave Millie the quick version of what had gone down in Frankenmuth that fall.
She nodded slowly. “So you think she kept your son from you as punishment?”
“I don’t want to make any assumptions, but I think it’s possible.”
“Wow.”
My drink arrived and I took a swallow. “Anyway, when Mason reached out a couple months ago, I was shocked. But even before the paternity test came back, I just had a gut feeling it was true. All the facts lined up.”
“Mason left me a voicemail telling me he’d found his real dad, and that he’d be at the wedding,” she said, shaking her head, “but he never said your name.”
“He’s mentioned you to me before too—just not by name.”
She looked surprised. “He has?”
“Yes. He spoke about a former girlfriend who helped him through a hard time, and he said she was planning his wedding.”
A quick laugh escaped her. “And I thought that would be the oddest thing about this weekend.”
“I’m sorry, Millie.”
“It’s not your fault.” She sat up a little taller. “But I definitely think it’s best if Mason never knows the truth.”
“I thought we covered well enough.” I ran a hand over my hair. “But he suspected something.”
Millie set her martini glass down with a clink and seemed to choke a little. “What?”
“As we walked over to the barn, he asked me if anything had happened between us.”
“He did? But—but what gave him that idea?”
“I don’t know for sure. He just sensed the tension, I guess. I don’t know Mason that well, but maybe he’s really perceptive.”
“He is.” She twisted her hands together. “What did you say?”
“I said the only thing I could say—nothing happened.”
Millie looked relieved, her shoulders loosening. “Okay. Good.”
“He told me that he’s spent much of his life searching for truth and feeling like things were being hidden from him.” I took another drink.
“His mom,” said Millie quietly. “It must be so hard for him that his mother kept you a secret. They were close.”
“In one of our first conversations, he mentioned something about working toward forgiveness.” For a moment, I wondered if I was betraying Mason’s confidence by sharing this information with Millie, but I wanted her to understand that if the stakes were anything less than earning my son’s trust and respect, I would have loved to spend time with her again. “I think reaching out to me, establishing a connection, is part of that.”
“Of course.”
“He said how much honesty means to him, how glad he is that I’ve been open with him.” I closed my eyes. “I just couldn’t bring myself to take that away from him. I don’t want him to think I’m—I’m—just some asshole who doesn’t care about honor or responsibility or blood ties.”
Millie put a hand on my arm. “I get it, Zach.”
“It probably sounds fucking stupid, but one of the things he initially told me was that when he was growing up, he asked his mother if his father had been a good guy. And her answer was, I thought so at the time.” I shook my head. “I don’t know if it was true then. But I’d like it to be true now.”
“It is true now. And it doesn’t sound stupid at all.” She rubbed my bicep before taking her hand off me. “I think we both need to put Mason’s feelings first, and that means keeping what happened between us to ourselves.”
“Not that we did anything wrong,” I said quickly.
“No, but I don’t need to prove that point by telling people I slept with my ex-boyfriend’s dad before I knew who he was.” She laughed a little. “God. It sounds so ridiculous.”
“It does.” The memories heated my blood even now. “But it sure was fun.”
Her eyes met mine, and she blushed. “It was.”
“And if the circumstances were anything other than what they are,” I said quietly, “I’d want to do it all over again tonight.”
The pink in her cheeks deepened. “How long are you in town?”
“I leave Monday.” I focused on my drink for a moment, turning the glass in my hand. “I’ve thought about you a lot.”
“I’ve done the same,” she whispered, as if it were an awful secret. “I almost called you a couple times.”
I tossed back the rest of my cocktail, refusing to let my brain imagine what those phone calls might have entailed. “I guess it’s good that you didn’t.”
“Yes.”
Setting the glass on the bar, I turned to her, determined to do the right thing. “Well, Millie MacAllister, it was nice to see you again.”
“You too.” She offered me her hand, and I took it, holding it a little longer than was polite.
I kept my voice low. “You’re as beautiful as I remembered. Maybe even more so.”
The color in her face deepened and her long, thick lashes swept down. “Thank you.”
I couldn’t resist kissing her cheek. After pressing my lips to her soft, warm skin, I put my mouth near her ear and whispered, “I know it’s wrong, but I can’t leave without kissing you.”
She inhaled sharply.
I straightened up and let go of her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
