The SEAL’s Surprise Baby by Leslie North

 

1

“What?” Anderson said, trying to keep his mouth from hanging open. He couldn’t have heard her correctly. Maybe the sound of the breeze moving through leaves was messing with his hearing. Had she just declared that the baby in her arms was his?

“You have a son,” Violet repeated, smoothing a hand over the boy’s hair. “His name is Nate.”

“Nate.” Anderson spoke the word slowly, waiting for his brain to catch up with Violet’s announcement.

“Nathan Anderson DiPaula,” she said. That was her last name. Instinct made him want to argue the point. If the kid was his, the boy’s name should be Nathan Park.

No. Wait a minute.

“He can’t be mine. I never…” Never what? Never let my swimmers out without a safety net? No SEAL worth his salt did, in Anderson’s opinion. He didn’t have unprotected sex—ever. But he looked at the boy with his dark hair and eyes and wondered. Was it possible?

“Do you mind if we come in?” Violet asked, glancing behind her. “I don’t want to talk about… certain things standing on your porch.”

“Yeah… sure,” Anderson muttered and stood aside to let her—and the baby—by. He’d been enjoying some time alone, recovering from his last mission, when Violet had unexpectedly knocked on his door. He walked ahead of her into the living room, gesturing to the couch he’d been napping on. Any sense of peace or relaxation he’d found had vanished the instant he saw her.

They’d parted fourteen months ago at Ramstein Air Base in Germany after an emergency extraction from the assignment they’d been on together in Moscow. When he’d thought of her since, it had been with a sense of irritation. Everything about her got under his skin. Her fearless attitude, her cool intelligence, her sexy body.

Having a baby hadn’t changed that much. Her slim-fitting jeans and pink tank top revealed the curves he’d been unable to resist that last night in Russia. A fateful night, if what she said was true and the kid was his. He focused on the boy. He had fine dark hair that fell over a high forehead and eyes darker than his mother’s. Hers always seemed to glow with a sort of inner light.

The baby’s chubby hands reached out and yanked on Violet’s chestnut hair.

“We talked about this, little man. No pulling Mama’s hair,” she said as she smiled at Nate and gently removed the locks from his fist. “Let me find you a toy.” With one hand, she dug in the bag she’d dropped at her feet. “How about this?” She offered the boy a book made from fabric.

“Does he like that?” Anderson asked, finding his voice.

“It’s a favorite. I think he’ll be a scholar.”

“Like his mother,” he said. She was one of the smartest people he knew. He hadn’t always liked her, but he’d respected her ability to analyze data and make projections. He was good at that, too, but her skill far surpassed his.

“And Daddy,” she added, shooting him a look.

Anderson’s scholarship was hard won, since he’d come from damn close to nothing. He’d risen above his beginnings, doing more than anyone expected from him, but shit, had he ended up just like his parents with an unplanned kid? He had to get his head around the idea of having a baby.

“How’d this happen?” he blurted out.

“The usual way, Anderson. We had sex.” She gave him a look that said, Try to deny it. “Do I have to explain the biology?”

“I get that part, but I also know there was a condom involved.” He wasn’t the type to take risks, ever. Not even back when he’d been a randy sixteen-year-old—and certainly not a year and change ago.

She lifted her shoulders an inch. “Ninety-eight percent effective when used correctly, according to the sources I checked. That leaves a two in one hundred chance.”

“Thanks, I can do the math,” Anderson said, working to keep the sharpness from his voice. “How old is he?”

“Five months. I just got confirmation a few days ago that you were back in the States,” she added, as if anticipating his next question.

“Right.” Anderson couldn’t stop studying the child, looking for signs of himself in the set of his mouth and his laugh as the baby turned the pages in the book.

“You were gone on a long deployment, from what I could find out,” she continued.

“You checked?” With her security clearance and connections in the intelligence world, she would have been able to find out that he was deployed. She might even have uncovered where he’d been, but she’d made no move to contact him. At least, not that he knew of.

“I did,” she admitted as she lowered the boy to the floor so that he sat supported against her legs. He seemed able to sit up pretty well on his own. Maybe he was an advanced little guy, Anderson thought, and then the kid stuck half the cloth book in his mouth. Guess not.

“So you waited for me to be on leave to drop this bomb,” he said, watching as she offered the baby a set of plastic keys in exchange for the now-wet book. She tilted her face toward Anderson before speaking.

“I waited because I wasn’t sure I’d tell you at all.” Those eyes that seemed to have their own light stared into his. “I don’t need you. I can raise him on my own and give him everything a child needs.”

“Except a father,” he pointed out, fully aware of the irony of his words. His father had been a crook and a wannabe con artist. Not exactly daddy-of-the-year material. Anderson’s grandfather hadn’t been any better. Fatherhood wasn’t in his genes.

“I grew up without one,” Violet retorted. “It’s never held me back.”

That much was true. She’d never been daunted by anything. Not that he’d seen. But raising a kid on her own had to be tough.

Did that mean he wanted to be involved? Hell, he didn’t know the answer to that.

“So why’d you show up at my door?” he asked, trying to understand her motive.

“I decided you had a right to know,” she said, touching the boy’s head. “And he’s so sweet. I couldn’t live with myself if you didn’t have the opportunity to experience that.” She cleared her throat, and he felt there was something she wasn’t saying. “So that’s why I’m here.”

He believed her, but something didn’t add up in his head. He let a minute pass in silence while he analyzed her words. Then he said, “You would have known you were pregnant before I was deployed on my last mission.”

“That’s true. I suppose I should explain a little more about that,” she said. “I’ve never been regular, you know what I mean?” He nodded, not wanting to get into a discussion of female issues. “So I was almost five months pregnant before I let myself believe it. When my clothes stopped fitting, I could no longer deny the reality, so I took a test and saw the doctor.”

“You weren’t sick?” Didn’t women know these things? There were signs, or so he’d always heard.

“Not a day. And I wasn’t tired either, like so many women say they are. It was an easy pregnancy.” She lifted the baby back onto her lap. “Anyway, by the time I came to terms with it, you’d shipped out—and I’d thought that was just as well, since we don’t…” Her mouth closed into a firm line.

“Get along,” he supplied. Both their working and personal relationships had been infused with tension, some of it sexual, but much of it a battle of wills.

“Right.” She swallowed, a surprising show of nerves on her part. “But I’m here now to give you a choice. Your son can be part of your life or not. If you decide you want nothing to do with him, I’ll never bother you again.”

Anderson started to say If he’s mine, and stopped himself. He had no reason to doubt her assertion, and the time frame worked. The kid… Nate… was his. Did Anderson want to be a father? He had never planned on it. But he also didn’t shirk his responsibilities. But, Jesus, it was a hell of a decision to be asked to make out of the blue.

He'd seen enough careless and irresponsible behavior from his own parents to know he didn’t want to emulate that. But could he do this? Could he be a dad? And what would that mean for him and Violet? He saw a future fraught with battles, which was not how he wanted to live.

But he’d fathered a kid, and that meant something. He’d pay child support. The Navy would help him set that up. Beyond the monetary, though… he didn’t know. His mind swirled, refusing to go in any coherent direction.

“Got it. Message received,” Violet said and got to her feet, interpreting his silence as refusal. She slung her bag over her shoulder and cuddled Nate close to her body.

Anderson had seen her in slinky dresses meant for nightclubs and in business suits, but she’d never looked more beautiful than she did then. Her clothes were casual, her hair mussed, but her face, body, and attitude got to him just as much as they always had.

And he knew that he didn’t want her or his son to walk out his door. Not until he’d had a chance to think this through.

“Wait,” he said, jumping up and moving to be in front of her. “You’ve got to give me a little—”

The sound of bullets from an automatic weapon suddenly filled the air. Instinct made Anderson wrap his arms around Violet and Nate and take them to the floor with him. Everything in him said to protect them above all else. He landed on his back, taking the brunt of the impact, and then rolled with them to use his body as a shield.

The hail of bullets ended, leaving a car alarm blaring in the street. He eased up, checking his surroundings.

“Is he…?” For the first time, Anderson touched his son. It was inadvertent, a simple hand to the boy’s cheek, but it was soft, warm, and captivating.

“He’s fine,” Violet said, her voice shaky. “What happened?”

“Not sure. Stay down,” he said as he rose into a crouch and made his way to the window. He looked through the glass pane and saw the sedan Violet must have arrived in riddled with bullet holes. A rock hurtled toward the house as a black SUV peeled out and careened down the road, almost hitting Anderson’s mailbox. He took another minute to scan the area before standing. When he did, he bumped into Violet. Why had she joined him at the window? He should have known she wouldn’t stay still—but the kid.

Anderson turned. Nate lay on his back on the carpet, moving his limbs and babbling to himself, undisturbed by anything that was happening.

“There’s a note,” Violet said, pointing through the window to where the rock had landed on his porch.

“I’ll get it.” He didn’t bother to tell her to stay in the house. It was a waste of breath.

Anderson stepped onto the porch to retrieve the note. Once he was back inside, he unfolded it and scanned the words. Violet leaned in to see it, her hair brushing against his arm.

“My God,” she muttered in Russian, speaking in the language of the note.

His language skills were on par with hers, and he had no trouble understanding the threat.

Next time, you’ll be in the car.

“I didn’t think…” She made her way back to the couch, scooped up Nate, and sat down heavily.

Didn’t think what? Violet was shaken… but not surprised. What was going on? He studied her. Her head was bent over the baby’s, and her body seemed to be folded inward. He needed to break through the walls she was constructing and get her to talk.

“Let me take him,” Anderson said, walking toward her and reaching for his son. His request jolted her.

Violet glanced up, her eyes unfocused for a second, before handing Nate over. Anderson felt awkward for a minute as he tried to mimic how she’d carried the baby, but he soon figured out to rest Nate against his chest. He paced the room, keeping an eye on the street out front, but he didn’t expect them to return so soon since they’d delivered their message. “Explain what you know,” he said. “Don’t leave anything out.”

“There was a data breach two months ago,” she began after the tiniest hesitation, “not long after I went back to work following my maternity leave.” Her job for a government agency wasn’t the kind she could discuss with most people, but he already knew about it. He’d been her protector, a glorified babysitter, really, while she’d been on assignment in Moscow.

“The leak had to do with information you collected in Russia,” he guessed.

She nodded. “It revealed some of the surveillance and analysis and who conducted it.”

“And your bosses didn’t react.” That surprised him. They were usually protective of their assets, and that’s how they would view Violet.

“It was deemed minor with minimal exposure, but…”

“But what?” he demanded, keeping his voice level. Nate seemed to be dozing, cuddled into him, and he didn’t want to spook the boy.

“I’ve had a few strange incidents since,” she said, her fingers twisting the edge of her shirt. “Little things. Someone following too close behind my car. An unexpected package on my doorstep.”

“What was in it?” Anderson paused in his pacing.

“Russian nesting dolls.” She gave him a wry smile. “A warning, no doubt. I think someone’s toying with me, but I don’t know why.”

The bullet-filled hunk of metal on the street was way past a warning. Fortunately, he lived on a country lane outside town and had no immediate neighbors. No one would be freaking out and calling the police. At least not yet. He had a little time for his mind to tick over what he knew. He didn’t like any of it.

“We need to get out of here,” he said after a minute spent analyzing their best course of action.

“What? Now?” She stood, her body reacting to his suggestion.

“Yeah,” he said, “unless you want to wait around for them to come back.” She was too smart for that not to be obvious to her.

She glanced out the window. “I should report this to my supervisor.”

“Did you report the other things?” he demanded.

“Of course.” She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.

“And what did they do?” he asked before she could dial.

“Nothing, which didn’t really surprise me—who knows; they might have more information than I do.” Her fingers stilled over the buttons. Since her area of expertise was risk analysis, he found it odd that anyone had doubted her assessment. “The threat seemed as though it originated from a minor source with minimal exposure, same as the original data breach. I’ve followed the usual protocols for enhanced threat, though.”

How much more complicated was that with a child to care for? Anderson didn’t want to think about it. He would later, after they were in a safe location.

“My car’s in the garage,” he said, ready to take action. “Let’s roll.”

“Wait. I can’t go on the run with a baby. All I have for him is what’s in this bag. Let me go home and—”

He cut her off. “No. Your place isn’t going to be safe.” He knew he was right about that, but fleeing a threat with a baby—with his son—wasn’t the way he wanted to spend his first day as a dad.

“I…” She only hesitated a couple of seconds; he could see her evaluating the situation in her head, assessing risks and options. “Okay. You’re right.” She grabbed the bag and took Nate from Anderson. “Car seat?”

“What?” It was his turn to be surprised.

“Kids have to ride in a car seat for safety,” she explained. “We’ll need to get it from my car if it’s not damaged.”

He wanted to argue that their situation was inherently unsafe, but her jaw had a stubborn set he remembered well. “I’ll get it. You can reach the garage by going through the kitchen.”

He pointed the way before pulling jackets from his hall closet and stuffing them into a tactical bag he always kept packed. A minute later he yanked the door of the bullet-riddled car open to retrieve the car seat. He had no idea how to manage the thing, but he managed to detach it and hauled it to the garage.

“Let me,” she said, taking it and quickly strapping it down while he held Nate. He watched her run her finger over a notch in the plastic where a bullet had sliced through. “Good thing he wasn’t…” She didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“We need to move,” Anderson said to hurry her along. Thirty seconds later, he backed out of his garage and headed in the opposite direction from where the black SUV had gone. He didn’t want to run into whoever had been at the wheel with Violet and Nate in the car.

The problem was he had no idea where the hell they were going.