cup touched Grant’s foot. He stooped over and grabbed it. Kallie sat up in her chair again, stretching out her hand over the table to get it back.
Grant eyed both kids, and the nerves piled up inside her as she set Ainsley’s drink on her tray. This charade was pointless—he was bound to figure things out and she’d been stupid to hide it from him.
“How’s Brendan Millard these days?”
Blinking, Kallie frowned. “What? Fine, I guess.”
Peter tossed his empty cup and cried for more.
“What’s he up to?”
Kallie disappeared beneath the table. “Running his farm, like everyone else around here.” She snatched Peter’s cup and stood to refill it.
“He’s not hanging around here?”
“Why would he?”
“I just figured he’d be available for you and the kids.”
Ainsley cried out, out of peas again.
“Here.” Grant pushed his chair back. “Let me help.”
“No, you’re a guest. Sit down.” Kallie shoveled peas onto the tray. But Ainsley waved her arms, batting away Kallie’s spoon, sending her cup over the edge again.
She gasped as the lid came off, spilling milk across the floor.
Grant popped up from his seat.
“I’ve got it.” Kallie darted for the paper towel roll on the counter, but he snatched it first. He swooped in on the milk spreading over the linoleum.
She knelt beside him. “Let me do it.”
“I can handle a spill…”
“But—”
“Go eat. You’ve hardly touched your food.”
“No. I’m going to do it.” She snatched the paper roll from him. “Now tell me why Brendan Millard would be here for me and the kids?”
“Aren’t these his kids?”
“No, Grant.”
Freezing, he raised his gaze to meet hers. “Then whose are they?”
Her eyes widened. Did he honestly have no idea? She took a couple of deep breaths, then stood. She set Ainsley’s sippy cup on the table with a distinct tap and turned to the counter, tugging saran wrap off a pan of dessert. “Brownie?”
“Kal.”
He wasn’t playing around. Turning, she met his dark eyes and willed herself not to flinch. Time for the truth. “They’re yours.”
“Grant, stop.”
The screen door shut behind him as Grant stalked down the steps. He needed air.
Returning to Bitter Creek Farm had already been hard, dredging up memories of training setters with Frank and learning about life. Falling in love with Kallie—hard and fast. But this? Finding out he’d been a father all this time? That was harder still.
“Grant.” Kallie followed him outside. “Let me explain.”
“What’s there to explain? I understand what’s going on here. You lied to me about everything. That about covers it, right?”
“Please.”
He paused to face her, spying her on the porch—slip-on shoes, breeze tossing her long blond hair. Her slender wrists and fingers. The freckles dotting her bare shoulders. He distinctly remembered touching those shoulders as they danced in the moonlight together…
That night when their perfect world had completely ruptured.
“I wanted to tell you so many times. But—”
“But what? The timing never felt right?”
“No.”
“Why’d you keep them a secret, Kallie?”
Her gaze turned steely, arms crossing over her middle. “Why’d you leave me a month after asking me to marry you?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t tell you.” Her eyes misted over. “You left me. And you did not want kids. I didn’t know what to do.”
Twins. The news still shook through him. He’d seen the kids, the color of their hair, but he’d reasoned away any chance they could’ve been his. Kallie’s gaze pleaded with him to understand, but it was a whole lot of information to take in at once.
“I did do that. And I’m very sorry. But you should have told me. I still have my same phone, or you could have called Jill—”
“I don’t know. I guess I figured you were better off not knowing.”
“That’s the problem, Kallie. You decided this important thing for me. You can’t do that. You can’t control everything. I had a right to know.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and he fell silent. Was she just now feeling bad about all of this or had she tormented herself for years? He closed his eyes against the regret shuddering through his chest. Regret over their past mistakes and the mistake he was making now. No matter what she’d done to him, he didn’t need to belittle her.
The way she stood there, hand nervously gripping her opposite bicep, she looked exactly the same as when he left years ago. Alone and scared. Needing him as he walked away.
He was guilty of hurting her, too.
Grant rubbed the back of his neck. One little statement: They’re yours. Suddenly, his life would never be the same. His mind swirled with hurt, with anger, with questions. But one thing he knew for sure. Those kids needed a dad. Grant had one physically, but not actively. He was scared to death of repeating the man’s mistakes.
In fact, he’d already started. He’d been absent for their entire lives. But not anymore.
He headed for his pickup.
She followed him. “Where are you going?”
“To find some cell service to call my hotel.”
“Why?”
“To cancel my reservation.”
He heard her feet skid to a halt on the gravel. “You’re leaving already? You’re mad that I didn’t tell you about the kids and yet you’re already leaving?”
“Hardly.” He hopped into his truck and shut the door, staring down at her through
