Single Desire (Single Dads of Dragonfly Lake #6)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Kemp

The day after Christmas, I drove through my hometown of Dragonfly Lake a different man.

After countless revelations, tests, arguments, legal consultations, government interventions, meltdowns, delays, and miracles, I’d come out victorious.

At long last, my almost-six-month-old son was in the backseat of my SUV, heading to his new home—mine—for the first time.

It’d been one heck of a week.

Ten days ago, I hadn’t known I was a father. I’d been existing on this planet, completely unaware that I was fifty percent responsible for the creation of a little boy who was living seventy-two miles away.

One tragic accident had changed multiple lives forever, mine included. But most importantly, the life of Oliver Reed Swensen, soon-to-be Essex, was now on a vastly different trajectory. For better or worse.

I glanced in the rearview as I waited to turn left into the Country Market parking lot.

For the dozenth time today, I was irritated that I couldn’t put my eyes directly on my son to see if he was awake or asleep, content or restless.

Oliver’s caseworker had told me you could buy a mirror specifically for that purpose, and I fully intended to do it eventually.

I had a lot more pressing things to see to first.

Like food.

I’d spent most of the past eight days in Nashville, wanting to be close to my son as the details and red tape were worked through, even if his maternal grandparents hadn’t welcomed my presence or made it easy for me. If there was food in my fridge, it was likely fuzzy and green by now.

I parked in the grocery store lot and killed the engine, considering what would be fastest to make myself for dinner and what I’d need to get through another day or two. I got out of the SUV, shoved my keys in my pocket, and headed toward the entrance.

“Ah, hell,” I said, stopping abruptly two steps past the SUV’s back end.

With an embarrassed glance around the lot, I about-faced and opened the door to the backseat.

Oliver’s eyes were open beneath the blue-and-green beanie with bear ears that Anna had crocheted for him.

He watched me as I ducked my head inside.

“Hey, tiger. How you doing back here?”

He studied me with big, curious eyes as I set his blanket aside—also made by Anna—unlatched the straps, and worked his arms free.

“Come here, Oliver,” I said in what I hoped was a soothing voice.

The fact was, this kid didn’t know me yet. I wasn’t familiar to him, just a big, thirty-six-year-old man who’d popped into his life suddenly. I sure as hell wasn’t the pretty face of his mama, the only parent he’d known until recently.

“You’ve been through it, haven’t you?” I said as I pulled him out of the car seat and braced him against my chest with one arm. He seemed like a tiny thing to me, but his mama’s best friend had assured me he’d almost doubled in weight since his birth.

I shut the door, then headed for the automated entrance of the Country Market.

In the cart vestibule, I halted, eyed the carts, and realized I wasn’t sure if this little guy should sit in the built-in kid’s seat.

Was he big enough for that? Maybe I should’ve brought the car carrier in with me instead.

With a shrug, I decided a handbasket would suffice since I wasn’t buying much and grabbed one as I breezed through the second set of doors.

“Oh, my heavens.” Darlene Lionetti, the head cashier and a sweet, if loud, senior, bore down on us, apparently having a lull between customers. “Kemp Essex, look at this beautiful baby.”

Biting down on an internal curse or two, I smiled and thought, Here we go with the gossip train.

In a town this size, being the talk of it was unavoidable. I knew that. I’d expected this. But I wasn’t ready for it.

“Hi, Darlene.”

Her eyes were locked on Oliver, delight written all over her face, and I momentarily wondered whether that was from being in the position to get a firsthand look before anyone else or because Oliver was such a cute little dude.

“You…are…precious,” she said to my son. When she reached us, she put one motherly hand on my back and brushed her finger over Oliver’s tiny knuckles as he grasped my shirt. She made an exaggerated exhalation sound. “Look at those wise, beautiful eyes. Oh, Kemp… What a treasure.”

“He is,” I said, noting Darlene’s lack of shock that I was carrying a baby, which told me everyone already knew about Oliver.

“So he’s yours now? Home free?” she asked.

Still coming to grips with my reality, I said, “He’s mine. All mine.” I pressed a kiss to the side of Oliver’s head.

Darlene turned her focus to me, pushing her chin-length, ash-blond hair out of her face. “And how are you doing with all this, hon?”

“I’m doing great,” I said without thought. The answer was automatic, polite, and easy. The truth? I didn’t have a clue how I was doing. “I’m just ready to get him home and adjusted. This little guy’s had a lot of upheaval.”

She frowned sympathetically. “The upside is that he won’t remember any of it.”

I nodded. “Sad that he won’t remember a thing about his mother though.”

“Bless your heart, sweet baby boy.” After brushing his cheek with her finger, she scurried off as Cynthia Yates, eyeing us with gleeful interest, approached her checkout lane.

I headed toward the frozen-food aisle. I set the basket on the floor, grabbed two frozen pizzas, tossed them in, and picked it up again. Carrying Oliver at the same time made shopping an awkward process. Maybe next time I’d figure out the cart thing.

We were heading for the eggs when a female gasp behind us slowed me down.

“Kemp, you are not walking right past me with that baby.”

“Hey, Maeve,” I said, smiling at the brunette I’d been friends with since elementary school. “This is Oliver.”

She fawned over my son, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was longing in her expression. “What a lucky guy you are,” she said.

I wasn’t sure if she meant me or Oliver.

“So the stories are true?” she asked with a sympathetic glance at me. “His mother was in an accident?”

I nodded solemnly. “They said she died instantly.”

“I’m so sorry, Kemp.”

I frowned. “Thanks. Is it bad to say I didn’t know her that well? She was in town for a weekend at the lake. We spent a couple nights having fun. I probably wouldn’t have found out about the accident if not for this guy.”

“And you didn’t know about him until last week?”

I shook my head, still grappling with that fact.

“Not a single clue. She and her girlfriends were here for a weekend. I spent less than twenty-four hours with her grand total. Her friend Reese apparently was lobbying for her to tell me, but Valerie didn’t want to ‘mess up’ my life. Reese’s words, not mine.”

“But your name was on the birth certificate,” Maeve said.

Thank God for that. It was the reason I had him home so quickly. Well, that and the paternity test that backed it up.

“Reese said Valerie felt strongly about that,” I told her. “Something about being adopted herself and never knowing who her biological parents were because everything was closed. In case he ever wanted to know the truth when he grew up.” I indicated Oliver.

“She didn’t think it would ‘mess up’ your world to have some nineteen-year-old show up at your door claiming to be your child?”

I scoffed. “From what I can tell, she wasn’t that concerned about me at all. She was thinking of this guy.”

Maeve narrowed her eyes. “It’s awful she didn’t think you had the right to know you have a child. That’s a lot to get past.”

I nodded, considering the emotional roller coaster I’d ridden for the past week. “I’m trying to let it go. It’s in the past. We’re focusing on moving forward, aren’t we, tiger?” I gently brushed my knuckle over his chubby cheek.

“And how’s everything going so far?” Maeve asked.

“We’re just on our way home. Not much to report yet. My fridge is empty, so I’m picking up staples and formula.”

“Well, congratulations, Kemp. He’s beautiful. I hope everything’s smooth sailing from here.”

“Thanks.”

I picked up eggs, omelet ingredients, and a loaf of bread, then headed to the baby aisle. Opal, Oliver’s maternal grandmother, had told me his formula brand, though she hadn’t offered to give me the can she had.

“Here we go,” I said, spotting the brand name. I set the basket on the floor again, and at the same time, I realized there were at least a dozen variations to choose from. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

“Hey, look who it is. Daddy Kemp.”

I turned to see Chance Cordova heading my way.

“What’s up, man?” I said as I fist-bumped him with my empty hand.

“Look at this guy. Hey there, little man,” he said, altering his voice as he addressed Oliver. “Are you flipping out?” he asked me.

I chuckled. “I’m just happy to have him. It was a long week.”

“I bet so. Fatherhood that first time screws with your head plenty even when you have months to prepare for it. Instant fatherhood?” He shook his head. “Can’t even imagine.”

“It’s wild,” I said. “We haven’t been home yet, so I have a feeling the flipping out is coming soon.” I gestured to the shelves. “This is the brand of formula he’s on, but which type? I couldn’t tell you.”

Chance turned toward the shelf and plucked a big can of the same brand off. “This is what Lila takes.”

“How old’s your little girl now?” I asked as it hit me that our kids were close in age.

“Four months,” he said. “Close to four and a half.”

“He’ll be six months in three days,” I said, then shook my head in disbelief for what must’ve been the hundredth time since that phone call eight days ago. “Wild that our kiddos will grow up together.”

“Same grade and everything,” Chance agreed. “Hey, you’re a single dad now.”

“Uh, yeah.” I couldn’t figure out why he stated the obvious.

“Our dad group is getting together at Max’s a week from Saturday. None of us are single anymore, but we’re all still dads, and we were all where you were at one point. It’s not the easiest role. You should join us.”

“I don’t know, man. I don’t know who I’d leave him with.”