Page 8 of Delinquent Daddy (Banks/Kincaid Family 2)

Neighbor Lady frowned, making Boston flush.

"I mean, I'm..." He floundered. Then he thought of Cassie.

"I'm a relative," he finished. If Ellie did live here, then it only made sense Cassidy Trenton existed. That would definitely put him in the role of the absentee father. And yes, one could definitely say a father was related.

Ms. Nosy frowned even more at his answer; he almost rolled his eyes. She wasn't going to back off, was she?

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Delinquent Daddy

by Linda Kage

"It's been a while since I've seen her," he offered, hoping to appease her curiosity. "Cassie..." He faltered, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Her daughter wasn't even born yet."

Relief crossed her face as his story meshed with what she knew about the occupants of the brown house. A sickened feeling filled him. It was true then. Ellie lived here with her daughter, Cassie.

"Well, my goodness," the neighbor said, looking suddenly very comfortable with him. "It has been a while then, hasn't it?"

Boston nodded and rubbed his hand on his pant leg, hoping she would go away so he could commence a panic attack in peace. But, dear Lord, how could it be true? Ellie had told him the baby was dead. Why would she lie? Why—

"Is Ellie expecting you?"

He lifted his face. The word no was on the tip of his tongue, but he changed his mind at the last second and nodded yes. "But I made it to town a lot sooner than I expected," he lied. "I don't remember when she said she'd be home. Do you..."

"Ellie always gets home at five thirty," helpful neighbor lady answered before he could finish his question. Then she grinned and rolled her eyes. "I swear you can set a clock by Elora Trenton's schedule."

Trenton. So, she was still going by her maiden name.

Either Ellie was single or she hadn't taken her husband's name. The Ellie he remembered was traditional. She'd take on her husband's surname if she was married. So, he had to assume she hadn't met someone else and created a child with 27

Delinquent Daddy

by Linda Kage

that person. Then again, why would she name some other man's daughter Cassie?

Boston checked his watch. Fifteen minutes after five.

"Thank you," he offered the woman. "I guess I'll just wait then."

After the woman finally faded back toward her own yard, Boston returned to the porch, where he remembered seeing a wicker chair. The fragile wood creaked and groaned as he sat.

Hooking one ankle over his opposite knee, he settled back and waited.

Fifteen minutes later, his foot jiggled impatiently and his fingers tapped rapidly against the wicker armrest. Okay, it was five thirty. Where the hell was Ellie? Where was Cassie?

Why couldn't he breathe?

Questions mounted, time ticked on, and Boston continued to wait...and sweat. As sure as the neighbor had been about Ellie's ETA, he grew anxious. Something wasn't right. He remembered her as always being prompt too. So, why wasn't she home yet?

It made him wonder if someone really had pulled a hoax on him. If they had, he wasn't amused. If someone was messing with him, they'd pay. Plotting the demise of his unknown prankster, Boston didn't realize another fifteen minutes had passed until an old Toyota Corolla minus a muffler pulled into the drive.

As the car shuddered to a stop and the engine coughed out its last breath, Boston pushed to his feet. He spotted one occupant—a lone woman—inside. No child sat in the 28

Delinquent Daddy

by Linda Kage

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