Page 11 of Secret Baby with My One Timer

My father nods at me to take a seat. “We believe my son has a child and her mother is keeping her from him.”

“It isn’t like that,” I argue. “She doesn’t know I’m the father.”

“Do you think she might be amenable to a quick resolution?” Gaston asks my father, making me feel that this decision is not mine. There’s a hesitation in his tone before he continues. “Or are you wanting the problem to disappear with an NDA?”

“I just want access to my child. That’s all.” My voice is low as I try to ward off my anger. He thinks this is about my reputation when it’s purely about my daughter.

“Have you spoken to the child’s mother?”

“Not about my child.”

“And you’re sure she is yours? She might be using you.”

I inhale a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. “She doesn’t that I know yet.”

“If he says the child is his, she is his,” Father says. He won’t want me to tell his friend exactly what I did.

“Okay, let me get some details on the mother and the child, and I’ll get my private investigator to find out everything about her. Once we are certain the child is yours, you can take action.”

“Action?”

“Get your rights to the child.” He is so damn stoic, he makes me feel like my blood is boiling.

I need to breathe.

As I push out my chair, my father barks, “Where are you going?”

“Hunter Beach. I’m going to visit Adam Turner.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Chapter 5

Oliver

Luckily, I was already visiting my father in the Hunter Valley and the drive to Hunter Beach was only around twenty minutes. A lot easier than the two hours it would take to drive here from New York City.

I nearly changed my mind on the journey, but after calling Adam and finding out he and his wife, Mia, have Holly staying overnight because Taylor’s mom was taken to hospital yesterday. I had to make the journey.

It’s selfish, but I know this is another chance to meet her.

My daughter.

What if the private investigator tells you she isn’t yours? The sensible voice in my head says.

I brush my hand through my hair, a momentary lapse as I stare out at the house my daughter is staying.

She is mine. I know it. I feel it.

After opening the car door, I stroll to the beach side of the home. Looking at the ocean, seeing the sun glisten off the white tips of the sea and the golden sand. I can even taste the salt in the air as my tongue licks the sea from my lips.

There’s no answer and I knock on the door once more, mesmerized by the pounding waves that beat against the shore in time with my heart.

Still no answer, I raise my fist to go to knock again, but this time as I do the door opens.

“Oliver?” Mia murmurs. She doesn’t really know what else to say.

---