Page 20 of Daddy's Accidental Babies

I gave a dry, humorless smile. “Oh, he’ll have one. Probably a very loud one.”

Dominic reached for his water as he chuckled at me. He knew my father as well as I did, maybe better. “Is it that bad between you two?” The concern edging his tone got to me. I could tell he cared more than he should.

I hesitated, then nodded. “Dad isn’t the kind of man who reacts well to surprises—you know that. Especially when there’s press involved and he’s halfway through a campaign run.” Pressing my eyes closed, I tried not to let this topic ruffle my feathers too much.

“He’s still running for state office, right?” Dominic asked. He kept his voice low, and I was certain it was because of the reporters we both knew were in this very dining room watching us eat and talk.

“Yes,” I said. “Which makes this whole thing feel like a PR nightmare waiting to happen.” I wanted to scowl, but I faked another smile and peaked my eyebrows. The thing Vanessa thought would save Dominic could be the very thing that tanked him if I wasn’t careful.

Dominic didn’t respond right away. He refilled his glass and let the silence sit between us for a moment before he asked, “You think he’ll be angry?”

“I think he’ll be humiliated,” I said. My voice came out sharper than I intended. “He’s spent years building this squeaky-clean image. Having his daughter suddenly appear in tabloids with the country’s most eligible bachelor isn’t going to sit well with him. Especially given the age difference and the fact that neither of us told him about the stunt.” I held back my true thoughts about how upset my dad would be when he found out Dominic fathered my twins too, because that wasn’t really a good topic to bring up for optics’ sake.

A beat passed between us. My chest tightened. I hated talking about my father. I hated the way Dominic’s gaze stayed steady, like he was trying to piece together more than I was willing to share.

I looked away first, pretending to focus on the violinist. The song had shifted to something slow, something so sweet it almost felt like a setup.

Movement in the corner of my eye pulled my attention. One of the reporters rose from his chair and adjusted his jacket. He walked straight toward our table with the air of someone who knew exactly what kind of story he wanted, and my blood pressure rose the closer he got.

“Mr. Knight,” the reporter called. He flashed a press badge clipped to his lapel. “Ms. Bennett. Any plans for a ring?”

The question landed hard. I froze, my pulse tripping over itself. My mouth opened, but no words came out. And Dominic waved the man off as he started snapping pictures.

Every part of me wanted to cringe and hide, cover my face, scream at the man to leave me alone. But despite the creep of heat up my neck, I smiled at the camera as Dominic stood and ushered the man away. The waiter arrived with our meals, setting down two artfully plated dishes and refilling our wineglasses without a word.

Dinner passed in a blur of forced conversation and delicate bites I didn’t really taste. We ate slowly, surrounded by too many eyes, our words carefully measured between sips of wine and low remarks about campaign optics and regional rollout strategies. His gaze lingered often, but neither of us touched the subject that hung between us like smoke.

When the plates were cleared, Dominic rose from his seat, stepped behind my chair, and leaned over me a little closer than I felt comfortable with. “Ready?” he asked.

I nodded and stood. He placed his hand on my lower back and guided me toward the exit. Flashbulbs popped again as we stepped through the doors and into the night air. He stayed silent the entire way to the curb. When we reached the limo, he opened the door for me without a word.

We slid into the limo and settled into the leather seats. The city lights blurred through the tinted windows as the driver pulled away from the curb. Inside, the space felt even tighterbecause neither of us spoke at first. For a few moments, I stared out the window, willing the streetlights to distract me.

Then Dominic shifted beside me. “Why do you always do that?” he asked. His tone was quiet, but I could feel the charge under it.

I glanced at him, cautious. “Do what?”

“Pull away. Pretend you don’t feel anything.”

I scoffed lightly and looked back out the window. “Because it’s easier.”

He didn’t let it go. “Easier than what? Being honest?” He leaned closer and I noticed how his fingers were inches from mine, splayed on the leather bench seat between us.

I flinched at his question. Not because it wasn’t fair, but because it was. I turned my face toward the window. “I pull away because I’m afraid,” I said. “Not of you—of what it means if I don’t.” I really didn’t want to have this conversation with him right now, while trapped in the back of a limo with him.

He didn’t speak right away. I could feel him watching me. “Afraid of what, exactly?” he asked.

“Of my father,” I said. “Of what he’ll do when he finds out. You’re his best friend, Dominic. This job is supposed to help build my career, not—” I stopped myself. I had said too much already.

“Not what?” he said, almost indignantly. “You think it’s because I’m older? Age is just a number, Savannah.”

“Not to him,” I fumbled, realizing that my father was actually a pretty reasonable man. If Dominic and I were really in love and spoke with him about it first, I could see him being upset but accepting. This, however, was a stunt he would balk at.

And I could feel the words bubbling up, the ones I’d held back for years. But I couldn’t tell him the truth about Leo and Cal, and that was what I was choking back. I tried to make this about Dad’s reaction, but deep down, it was sheer terror that theman seated next to me would react so explosively I’d never find all the pieces of my heart to put myself back together again when he learned the truth.

“Van—”

“Getting close to you means everything falls apart,” I said instead. “And I’m not ready to let that happen.” I bit back tears—literally—my lip felt like I’d drawn blood.

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