Page 5 of Lorenzo & Lily

He’d only been running a half hour, if that, and had barely broken a sweat. “I’m fine, Jones. Give me a few minutes.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Feeling exhausted, he settled into the soft sand, one arm on his chest, one thrown out beside him, his legs bent with knees facing the sky.

He watched the sky lighten more and more for several minutes before he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, this time taking in the scents and sounds of his city slowly waking. Soon, the sound of children heading off to school, and the steady pace of the morning rush hour would fill the air. He could already smell the cafés and bakeries readying for business, and the air was tinged with the sweet smell of yeast and life-affirming scent of espresso.

His city.

Steadier now, he took some more time and let the sounds nearby filter into his consciousness. When he heard a small girl’s laughter, he blinked.

The sky was only half-light. No child should be out right now on their own. He leaned up on his elbows, and peered around.

And his body locked when he saw her.

Lily.

Cecilia ‘Lily’ Brionne. The woman he’d once loved. Lily was wrapped inside a blanket with a little girl.

A dark headed little girl.

Shit. Did Lily have a child? Whose child was it? And why did the thought of her having another man’s child fill him with such a possessive jealousy?

When they’d met at Alex’s wedding, it had been the first time that he’d seen or spoken to her since she’d walked out five years ago. Back then, he’d told himself that his mental state was better off if he kept her in the past and didn’t try to find her, or didn’t try to convince her that she was wrong. Seeing her at the wedding had exposed that as a lie. Now, however, he may never get the chance to try again with her, not if she had a child with someone else.

He hefted himself up, then walked over. Closer now, he saw the little girl must be a few years old. She had a long, sleek nose, and an adorable pouting mouth – all her mother’s.

When he saw her other features, he stopped walking and breathing for several seconds. Then he gasped.

The girl also had long, wavy black hair floating around a square face, dark brown eyes, and a small cleft in her chin – all features he saw in the mirror every morning when he bothered to look.

Was she…was the little girl…hischild?

When Lily’s easy smile slid into a gaping mouth, and a shadow of fear crossed her eyes, he knew.

Goddamn it, he knew.

Fucking hell.

His body locked, his heart clenched tight, and his eyes drifted to the girl.

“Hi, mister,” the little girl said, her baby-toothed smile wide and her little girl hand waving at him. He noticed she had on some sparkling pink nail polish and fleetingly wondered if she was too young to be wearing such things.

His word was wrenched from him, full of pain and loss and agony and amazement. “Lily.”

“That’s me!” the little girl yelled and her hand shot up as though she were in class and the teacher was taking attendance.

His eyes shot to Lily, who was biting her lip, her brows furrowed and her arms tight around her girl.

“How you know my name?” little Lily asked.

He took a shuddering breath, then crouched down in front of them. “Your name’s Lily?”

She nodded, her dark hair twitching. “Lil-ana. But Mama calls me Lily.”

“Lil-ana?”

“Liliana,” Lily said, her voice barely a whisper. “She can’t say it properly yet, though.”

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