Page 26 of Sterling Heat

The Milton family is like town royalty, unlike the Sylvers or the Havens, and I’m surprised the youngest daughter doesn’t have a more prestigious job in government. Her oldest sister is the town mayor and Stone’s friend with benefits. However, rumor has it Eleanor quit law school and recently returned home. Not that I give any credit to gossip, though.

“I’ll have a pub burger. Put it on his bill,” Knox points at me.

“I’m good.” Stone lifts his beer.

Eleanor walks away.

“Speaking of Enya, I need to find her car. Did you have Perry tow it?”

“Yes, let’s talk about Enya.” Knox sets his elbows on the table and places his chin in his hands, batting his eyes at me like he’s settled in for girl-time.

“Can we get back to the playing daddy part?” Stone sets his beer down after a sip and crosses his arms on the table.

I glance around us before leaning forward. “Look, after Enya had the baby, she couldn’t get into the NICU to see Adara because Enya’s blood pressure was too high. She had to be monitored, which meant sticking to her hospital room, and being separated from her new baby. I said I was the dad so I could get in and video call Enya, so she could see Adara.”

Stone and Knox stare at me.

“Is she okay?” Knox asks, sobering a bit.

“Why did she have high blood pressure?” Stone questions.

“Something called pre-eclampsia or some shit like that.”

Knox sits back and peers at Stone.

Stone scrubs a hand down his face.

“What?” I glance back and forth between them.

“You know that’s how Mom died, right?” Stone states, his voice heavy with regret.

I actually hadn’t remembered. When our mother passed away, I was only two. She was pregnant with Vale and died while in labor. A fluke, everyone said. For the longest time, I thought that was an actual condition. She had the fluke. When people talked about the flu, I often thought they meant the fluke.

Now, I know better, and pre-eclampsia wasn’t a joke.

“Fuck,” I mutter, thinking once again about how I could have lost Enya.

“So you aren’t really the father?” Stone glances at my wrist where the hospital band remains.

“Of course not,” I argue, straightening on my stool.

“Do you want to be?” Knox asks.

“What kind of question is that? You both know I’d be a shit dad.”

Knox looks at Stone again. Stone’s brows crease. I swear he could hold a quarter in the divot made between those bushy things.

“That isn’t true,” Stone states, like he doesn’t know I’d make a terrible father.

Stone was twelve when our mom died, and our dad disappeared into alcohol. My brother was off at college when everything really turned to hell.

“So you’re playing pretend daddy,” Knox confirms. “But she moved in with you.”

“She did what?” Stone’s voice rises as his shoulders stiffen.

“How do you know this?” I ask Knox.

He shrugs. “Rena told me.”