Page 32 of Sterling Heat

“When will you eat?”

“Later.” She avoids eye contact with me. The strain of the situation rests on her trim shoulders.

Shaking my head, I make a suggestion., “I’ll go down to the cafeteria and get you a sandwich.” Then I offer one final request. “Call me when you’re ready to come home. I’ll come back for you.”

Her mouth opens like she’s about to protest but I lift a hand, stopping her. “No argument.”

I have no idea why I keep tossing out support for this woman I hardly know, but when she told me again that she trusted me, after I told her about a sliver of my past, the hold she has on me is like a warm hug, something I haven’t felt in decades.

No one has ever trusted me. Not in the unconditional way Enya does.

Hours later, she finally calls me, and when I pick her up, she looks exhausted.

“Sugar, you need rest.”

Her head tips back on the seat. “I need a lemon cake.”

“I can do that. But did you eat dinner? You need something healthier first.”

“Okay, Dad.” Everything about her mockery is a joke and yet my heart hammers. Dad. I’m not Adara’s dad. Still, hearing Enya call me such a term, has my belly twisted up.

“I don’t see myself ever becoming a dad,” I admit as we drive back to my place.

“Really?” Her head lifts. “But you’re so good at it.”

I snort. “What have I done to make you say that?” I’ve held Adara. Even learned how to change a diaper. But that’s nothing compared to what dads need to do. Who one needs to be.

“You’re sweet with Adara.”

“How?” I honestly don’t know what she’s talking about.

A soft smile curls her mouth. “I’ve seen you kiss her head and heard the way you coo at her, calling her pretty girl and sweetheart.”

Heat warms my cheeks. “That’s not being a dad.” That’s just . . . I don’t know what those actions are. Dads should be loyal, supportive, present. Not lost in a bottle. Not cursing his children for their existence like mine had done.

“It’s a start. Every little girl needs a daddy.” Enya rolls her lips inward. “Well, at least, it’s a nice thought.”

Little boys need dads, too.

“Where is the father?” Is some man going to come looking for Enya and Adara? Some guy going to threaten to beat my ass for pretending to be Adara’s dad? Some dude going to come begging for Enya to return to him?

“Nonexistent.” Her tone demands finality on the subject.

Got it. “Are you close with your parents?”

“Let’s just say they didn’t exactly agree with how I had Adara.”

“Meaning?”

“Being single.”

“Ah. My dad kind of sucked and my mom died when I was two.”

“Sebastian.” Enya twists in her seat, easily reaching for my forearm. “I’m so sorry.”

“It happens.” But it really did suck. I don’t recall my mother, other than the stories my older siblings tell about her, and my dad turned into an ass after the love of his life died in childbirth. The thought of how I could have lost Enya in that same way makes my blood run cold, and I’m not even in love with her.

I doubt I’ll ever love anyone because I’d want them to love me back and I don’t see myself as loveable.