Page 51 of Secret Baby for the Bad Boy

We arrive at the diner, and I park the car. Win practically bounces out of his seat when I unbuckle him. How does he have so much energy even after a gymnastics class? I grab his hand and we walk inside, the familiar smell of grilled food and the sound of clinking dishes welcoming us. It’s a far cry from what I’m used to, but that’s fine. Sometimes it’s fun to just get back to basics.

“Hey, Lark!” My old friend, Frank, calls out from behind the counter. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, Frank. Thanks for squeezing us in,” I say, giving him a nod.

“No problem at all. Anything for you and your little man,” Frank replies, ruffling Win’s hair. “What can I get you guys?”

“Two burgers, extra fries, and a chocolate milkshake,” I say, glancing down at Win, who nods eagerly.

“Coming right up,” Frank says, heading to the kitchen.

We find a booth by the window, and Win climbs in, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Dad, can we go to the park after this?”

“We actually have plans, buddy,” I say, leaning back in my seat. “But I promise you’ll have fun.”

Our food arrives quickly, and we dig in. Win’s face lights up with every bite, and I can’t help but feel a deep sense of joy. These moments, simple as they are, mean everything to me.

As we finish our meal, I look at Win, his face smeared with chocolate milkshake, and I know that no matter what, I’ll always be there for him. For every handstand, every meal, every moment that I can be present for, I will be.

After we’re loaded up and driving, I stop by another restaurant – this one’s upscale and the order is already ready to go.

“Mr. Lark, your order.” The chef himself greets us, handing over two heavy bags that smells like heaven.

“Thanks, Marco.” I take the bags and place them carefully beside me in the empty passenger seat.

Back on the road, I steal glances at my son through the rearview mirror.

“What’s that?” he asks me.

“You’ll see,” I say, glancing at his car seat. It’s top of the line, of course. His safety is too important to risk, and I’m not about to settle for less than the gold standard for him.

“Where are we going now?” he asks, peering out his window at the city flying by.

“Somewhere special.” I smile, keeping the secret just a little longer. My heart swells, a mix of love and fierce protectiveness. He's my world, and I'd do anything for him. Lara, too. They are my unexpected family. My chance to show that I’m a good father and man. And I'll be damned if I don't rise to the occasion every single time.

The hum of the engine cuts as I park in front of my childhood home. I unclip my son's car seat and his small hand finds mine. We walk up to the door, his chatter about the day's adventures never ceasing, and I love listening to every word out of his mouth.

“Grandma's house!” He presses his face against the cool glass beside the front door as it swings open.

“Hey!” My mom sounds excited, happy, and full of love. She scoops him up, peppering his face with kisses, and he giggles, squirming for freedom.

“I’ve got something for you,” I say and hand her one of the bags from the restaurant. “Dinner. There's enough for both of you.”

Her expression softens, a silent thank you that doesn't need words. She leans in, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek.

“I appreciate it,” she says.

“Can I go play?” Win asks, his eyes huge and soulful. My mom nods and I respond at the same time.

“Go play, buddy.” I nudge him gently toward the backyard and he dashes off, leaving behind only a squeal of excitement.

“Thank you,” my mother says, holding the bag. She moves inside and I follow as she takes the bag to the kitchen.

“Call if you need anything,” I say, lingering just a moment more. Then I slip outside and give my son a huge hug, planting a kiss on top of his head. Satisfied he's in good hands, I head back to my car, ready for the next part of my evening.

I stride into the office, my arms balancing a vase of assorted white jasmine blossoms and the other bag of gourmet food. The scent of jasmine and food fills the air around me as I head straight for Lara's office.

She’s behind her desk and I study her for half a heartbeat before stepping into her office and speaking. “I’ve got something for you,” I say, setting the vase on her desk with confidence. The blooms catch the light, their textures and variety beautiful, but nowhere near as beautiful as she is.

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