not sure. Would you care to leave a message?”
“Yeah, sure.” He took a card from his pocket and jotted his cell-phone number on the back, followed by the words call me.
The salesclerk took the card and glanced at it. “No other message?” Her expression was sharply curious.
“No.”
“I’ll make sure she gets the card.”
“Thanks,” Justin drawled, suspecting his card would hit the trash can as soon as he left the shop. He wondered if Lily was upstairs in her workroom, avoiding him.
Short of forcing his way through the Employees Only door behind the counter and climbing the stairs, he couldn’t be sure. And he didn’t want to go there—there were other ways to reach her.
Tonight he’d drive to Lily’s town house and knock on her door unannounced. He’d apologize for ending their affair, make sure she was having a happy life, ask her to forgive him and leave.
He left the shop and waited for a break in traffic before crossing the street to his SUV.
Not being able to contact Lily easily had made him even more determined to see her.
Justin drove back to his apartment and forced himself to wait until evening, giving Lily plenty of time to go home before he sought her out.
Lily lived in Ballard, an older but upwardly mobile community edging the waters of Puget Sound just north of downtown Seattle. The newer brick-and-wood building was split into six town houses, each with a small square of grass out front.
Rush hour and dinnertime were past and the neighborhood was quiet, with only an occasional jogger accompanied by their dog, or a young couple pushing a stroller along the sidewalk passing by.
The walkway to Lily’s home was swept clean and edged with flower beds filled with red Martha Washington geraniums and green ferns. Justin rang the doorbell, idly noting the small, tidy porch with its wicker bench and the dried herb wreath that hung on the wall above it.
The minutes dragged by. Impatient, he pushed the button again, the ring of the chimes muted through the thick door.
Maybe she’s not home. Disappointed and frustrated, Justin half turned to search the quiet street, but saw no one. In a last attempt before leaving, he turned back and pushed the bell one more time.
The door opened abruptly.
“What?” The single word was filled with annoyance. A frown veed sable brows above green eyes that widened, flaring with shocked surprise as Lily stared at him.
Deep inside Justin, something that had been unsettled calmed, the emptiness that had been his constant companion for months eased and filled. His memory hadn’t betrayed him. The green eyes, high cheekbones and lush mouth, with its full lower lip, were exactly as he’d remembered. Lily’s shoulder-length hair was tousled, the sunlight glinting off streaks of blond in the dark brown mane. His gaze moved lower and, belatedly, he realized she wasn’t alone.
A little girl perched on Lily’s hip. Her tiny shoulders and arms were bare above the blue towel wrapped around her torso and her chubby little legs and feet left damp spots on Lily’s shorts. The toddler’s coal-black hair clung to her cheeks and nape in damp curls. Her green eyes were framed with thick black lashes, and when she smiled at him, a dimple flashed in her cheek next to a rosebud mouth.
The toddler had Lily’s eyes. And his hair and dimple.
He dragged his gaze from the little girl and met Lily’s. Emotions chased across her expressive features—surprise replaced by a swift look of guilt that was quickly banished by the defiant lift of her chin.
Then she slammed the door shut.
Chapter Two
Shock held Justin paralyzed for one stunned moment before he pounded on the door panels. “Lily!”
“Go away!”
“Open the door or I’ll keep this up until your neighbors call the cops.”
The door flew open. “What do you want?” she demanded.
“Let me in.”
“No.”
“Do you really want to have this conversation on your doorstep?” he asked grimly.
Her gaze flickered over his shoulder and a small, forced smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She waved. “Hi, Mrs. Baker. Nice evening, isn’t it?” She stepped back and held the door wide. “Come in,” she hissed at Justin.
The moment he stepped over the threshold, she closed the door and quickly moved farther into the room to put space between them.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I’m in town. I wanted to say hello,” Justin said almost absently, shock still gripping him. He couldn’t take his eyes off the little girl. “What’s her name?”
“Ava.” Lily gathered the toddler closer, her stance protective. “You’ve said hello, now I want you to leave.”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. He wasn’t sure of much, since his brain felt as if it had been scrambled by a bolt of lightning, but he did know he wasn’t leaving. Not yet. “Not until you tell me about Ava. She’s mine, isn’t she.” It wasn’t a question. He was convinced he knew what Lily’s answer would be, but he wanted, needed, to hear her say the words.
“No, she’s not yours. She’s mine.”
“Mama.” Ava patted Lily’s cheek, demanding her attention. “Mine Mama.”
“Yes, sweetie, I’m your mama. And you’re my very best girl, aren’t you.”
Ava threw her arms around Lily’s neck and hugged her enthusiastically. Then she laid her head on her mother’s shoulder and smiled beatifically at Justin.
His heart stuttered and he couldn’t help smiling helplessly back at her.
“She’s mine,” he said softly, but with rock-solid conviction.
“You contributed DNA, but that doesn’t make her yours.”
Lily’s vehement words were more denial than confirmation, but Justin’s heart leapt just the same. He’d felt numb for the last two years, and the pound of his heart in his chest after so long was startling.
“I want you to leave,” Lily said quietly.
“We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. There’s nothing to discuss. Ava and I have a life. You’re not part of it. Go away.” Her voice was a shade less quiet, and a faint tremor shook her.
Ava’s smile disappeared. She looked from Justin to her mother, then back again, her little face concerned. “Mama?”
“Please go. This is upsetting Ava.”
“All
