Tempt (Cloverleigh Farms Next Generation Book 4)
Tempt: Chapter 6

I knew who Mason was the moment I spotted him.

I’d handed my coat to the hostess and glanced into the restaurant’s dining room, my eye immediately going to a dark-haired young man with a slender, athletic build. He sat at a table for four with only one other person, a woman with curly brown hair. When he saw me, he stood up.

I began walking in his direction and nearly stumbled. Not because the resemblance to me was so strong—although it was there, in the height, in the coloring, in the way his hands unconsciously clenched and unclenched at his sides—but because I knew in my gut I was about to meet my son.

My insides were churning, and I felt tension mounting throughout my shoulders, neck, and back. I swallowed hard as I approached, prepared to extend my hand. Instead, Mason threw his arms around me.

“It’s true,” he said, his voice catching. “I wasn’t sure if it would be, but it is. You are my dad.”

I was so stunned by his embrace, it took me a moment to recover. Awkwardly, I put my hands lightly on his back. Patted it a few times. I didn’t know what to say.

Mason let go of me and stood back, laughing sheepishly. “Sorry.” He pushed his hair off his face in a gesture I recognized as one I’d made a thousand times in my youth. “I get a little emotional sometimes.”

“But it’s one of his best qualities.” The woman at the table rose to her feet and held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Lori Campion, Mason’s fiancée.”

I shook her hand. “I’m Zach Barrett.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” She had a pretty smile. “Please sit down.”

I took the seat across from Mason, who lowered himself into his chair and stared at me with awe. “I can’t believe I’m really meeting you. I looked for a photo of you online, so I’d recognize you, but couldn’t replace one. You don’t have social media or anything.”

“No.” I loosened my tie a little. “I’ve never had any of that.” And Kimberly, my ex-wife, had wiped her social media profiles clean of our relationship, so it didn’t surprise me that he hadn’t been able to replace any pictures.

“I thought maybe my mom would have kept one,” Mason said, “but I searched everywhere in her house without any luck.”

“I’m not sure we took any pictures. We didn’t know each other very long.” And we were too busy having unprotected sex.

The server appeared and asked me if I’d like a drink, and I looked up at him with extreme gratitude. “Whiskey. On the rocks, please.”

“Sure. We’ve got a couple options from Michigan distilleries. Journeyman—”

“Sounds good.”

He laughed. “Okay. Coming right up.”

“So how did it happen?” Mason asked earnestly.

“Sorry?” I tugged at my collar.

“Like, how did you meet my mom? What happened with you guys? Why didn’t she ever want me to know about you?”

“Honey.” Lori put a hand over Mason’s. “Maybe let him get his drink first.”

“Okay.” Mason closed his eyes and took a breath. When he opened them, I realized they were blue, and I saw the resemblance to Andi. He had the shape of her face, her high forehead. “I’m sorry, Zach. I promised myself I wouldn’t overwhelm you with questions about the past. I just . . . have a lot of them, I guess. And you’re a connection to my mom, a part of her life she never shared with me. I just want to understand her better—understand the decision she made to keep you from me. And it never seemed right to ask you this stuff over the phone, or by email.”

I needed a breath too. “I get it. And I’ll answer your questions as well as I can, but I’m not sure anything I have to say will give you what you’re looking for.”

“Mostly, I’m looking for honesty.”

“I can do that.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I’d like to gain perspective on my past, as I take steps toward my future.” He glanced at Lori. “We’re looking forward to having our own family, but I feel like it’s important that I know where I came from too. It never felt right that I couldn’t say who my real dad was or why I didn’t know him.”

“It wasn’t right,” I said, glad as fuck when the server returned with my whiskey. I barely even let him put the glass on the table before I picked it up and took a few swallows.

“Let’s put in our orders now,” suggested Lori.

I quickly scanned the menu and ordered the first thing that caught my eye. As soon as the server retreated, I picked up my whiskey again. We made small talk for a couple more minutes before Mason leaned his elbows on the table and met my eyes. “So is it okay to ask now?”

After one more generous swallow, I set the glass down. “I should probably start by saying that even though I had no idea you were, uh, conceived or born, I’m really sorry that you grew up without a father. If I had known, things would have been different.”

“Would you have married her?”

“If that’s what she wanted.” For a second I wondered about that . . . what had Andi wanted? When she first discovered she was pregnant, did she try to replace me? Or was she so mad about the way I’d left, she kept the baby a secret as a way to punish me?

“It’s hard to know for sure what she wanted,” Mason said. “I know that she married her high school boyfriend before I was born, and I’m guessing that was because her parents shamed her into it.”

“I remember they were pretty strict,” I said. “She told me they hated that she worked in a bar.”

“I barely remember them.” Mason shrugged, his eyes growing a little cold. “And they were never that interested in me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

“So did you meet her where she worked?” Lori asked.

I took another sip of whiskey. “Yes, in the pub where she waitressed. I was eighteen, same as she was. I’d joined the Navy right after high school graduation, gone to boot camp and then A School, and I had a few days before I had to report for duty in Norfolk. My mom guilted me into going up to Frankenmuth to visit my dad.”

“Your parents were divorced?” asked Lori.

I nodded. “They split when I was nine. It was—they had—” Swirling the whiskey in my glass, I debated how much to reveal. “Things were tough at home.”

“And you had no brothers or sisters?” she asked.

I hesitated. Took a sip. “Actually, I had a sister.”

“You did?” Mason was surprised, since I’d hidden the truth when he asked about siblings before.

“Yes. Her name was Penelope, but we called her Poppy. She was four years younger than me.” I swallowed hard. “We lost her when she was three.”

Lori gasped. “I’m so sorry. Was she sick?”

I shook my head and drained the last of my whiskey. “It was an accident.”

Immediately, Lori put her hands over her cheeks. “Oh, how awful. I’m really sorry, Zach.”

“Me too,” said Mason quietly.

I shoved the image of the little girl in the butterfly shirt from my mind. “Anyway, the marriage never recovered. My dad left and eventually remarried. My mom and I stayed in Cleveland.” I looked Mason in the eye. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest when you asked me on the phone about siblings. It’s not something I talk about.”

“I understand,” he said. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me now.”

It struck me that Andi had managed to raise a sensitive, empathetic son despite how hard it must have been for her, and how easy it would be for Mason to be accusatory or bitter. It made me want to be as forthcoming as possible with him. “Truth be told, Mason, I wasn’t all that mature or responsible in those days. I had a lot of anger, I was hot-headed and reckless. I wanted to settle things by yelling or fighting. The Navy was doing its best to whip me into shape, but I wasn’t there yet.”

“Eighteen is young,” Lori said.

“Yeah. Didn’t feel that way, of course. I thought I knew everything. Anyway, I saw Andi at the bar where she worked and thought she was cute. We spent a few days having a good time, but being careless about it.”

“A few days? That’s it?” Mason questioned.

“That’s it. Her ex-boyfriend—Mick, the one she married—got wind of me and showed up at my dad’s ready to fight.” I shrugged. “So I fought him.”

“He was a jerk. I hope you kicked his ass.” Mason set his jaw, and I saw my younger self in his pugnacious expression.

“I did, but my dad and stepmother were furious and tossed me out. I was so mad I left without saying goodbye to Andi.”

“And she never tried to get in touch with you?” Lori asked.

I shook my head. “Not that I know of. I always figured she was so angry that she just deleted my number and decided, to hell with that guy.”

Mason exhaled. “That sounds like her. Mom had a hot temper too. And man, could she hold a grudge. I could see her realizing that you’d left without saying anything and swearing she’d never utter your name again.”

“But even after she found out she was pregnant?” Lori was incredulous. “That’s a heck of a grudge.”

Guilt slammed my chest like a wrecking ball. “I swear, if she’d tried to contact me, Mason, I would have responded. I can’t say I would have been thrilled, but I would not have ignored her.”

Mason picked up his beer glass and drank. After setting it down, he nodded slowly. “I believe you. If my mother never even wanted me to have your name, it must have been because she never wanted you to know.”

I wanted to apologize again, but the words were starting to sound hollow.

“At least you know now, right?” Lori said, her tone brighter. “And even though we’ll probably never know why Andrea made the choice she did, maybe it doesn’t matter. We can’t change it. But we can move forward as a family.”

Mason smiled at her, patting her hand on the table. “Yes. Exactly.”

The server arrived with salads a moment later, and I dug in as if I were starving, grateful for the distraction.

“How was your flight in yesterday, Zach?” Lori asked.

“Fine.”

“Did you have a chance to see any of the area today? Autumn is a really beautiful season around here.”

“I took a run this morning. It is a pretty area.”

“I think we’re going to get some rain tonight,” said Mason, “but hopefully it clears up quickly.”

“Rain on your wedding day is supposed to be lucky, right?” Lori smiled and shrugged. “Maybe rain during your rehearsal is lucky too.”

“You should come to the rehearsal dinner, Zach,” Mason said. “I mean, if you want to. It’s tomorrow night.”

I picked up my water again and took a few cold swallows.

“Mason and I were thinking it would be a less hectic time for you to meet my family than at the actual wedding,” Lori explained. “But we don’t want to put pressure on you.”

I cleared my throat. “I’ll give it some thought.”

Just after two o’clock, I went back to my hotel room and crashed on the bed. I wasn’t sure if it was the change in time zone, the six-mile run I’d taken that morning, the big meal, or the emotionally exhausting conversation I’d just had, but I was wiped out. I fell asleep within minutes.

When I woke up, the room was dark. I checked my phone—it was after five. There were several messages from Jackson regarding an upcoming job and one from Mason.

Thank you so much for meeting us for lunch. Lori and I had a great time. It was so good to finally meet you in person, and I feel like the pieces of my past and myself I was missing are all falling into place. We’d love for you to come to the rehearsal tomorrow. If you want to. It’s at Cloverleigh Farms, and we’re all meeting in the lobby at 4:45.

Setting my phone aside, I lay on my back and tossed an arm over my head. I knew what the right thing to do would be—go to the fucking rehearsal and play whatever role Mason asked me to. Would it make up for the past? For my immature hasty departure from Andi’s life? For his going essentially fatherless for almost thirty years? No.

But no matter how much I told myself this wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t quite bring myself to fully believe it. Somewhere in the timeline, I’d fucked up, whether it was having unprotected sex or beating up her ex or taking off without a goodbye. My hands were not clean.

After texting back that I’d be there, I turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. I watched a few Seinfeld reruns, then I turned it off and wandered over to the window, pulling the curtains aside. It was just starting to rain, but I needed some air. I grabbed the keys to my rental SUV and left the hotel, not sure where I was headed—maybe I’d grab a drink and dinner somewhere. It was almost seven and I was starting to get hungry.

Heading in the direction of downtown, I spied a place called Southpaw Brewing Co. that looked good. There were no parking spots on the street, so I pulled past it to circle the block. At the corner, I waited for a trio of women to cross the street before I made my turn, and for a second, I thought I saw Millie among them. I stared at their backs through my blurry windshield, but it was dark and they were moving fast, hurrying through the rain. But there was something about that long hair, and the way this woman carried herself, that struck me as familiar.

The car behind me honked, and I pulled forward, tossing one last glance at the women over my shoulder.