Page 42 of Just Another Chance

Tanner brings a veritable feast and I laugh and ask why there’s so much food. He blushes and glances over at Owen. “I wasn’t sure what he likes. Or what two-year olds really eat.”

I can’t help but smile. He’s so damn adorable. “He’s eating regular food now, if that’s what you mean?” I open the container of carrots that are chopped into miniscule pieces and bite my lip to keep from laughing. They’re diced so ridiculously tiny that there’s definitely no chance of Owen choking.

“I don’t know,” Tanner admits in a low voice. “I never had a two-year-old.”

My gaze snaps up and he’s staring at me intently, as though waiting for me to say something more. I clear my throat, growing uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “I give him three meals a day plus a couple of small snacks. He loves cheese and crackers and apples. Oh, and he likes hummus, too. And popsicles. Oh! And he loves peanut butter more than anything.”

Tanner chuckles. “Sounds like he has a pretty good appetite. When I was a kid, my mom said I would tantrum if I didn’t get peanut butter every single day.”

Something in me melts and I look from Tanner to Owen. God, it’s so damn clear to me that they’re father and son. Can Tanner see it, too? I have a pretty good inclination that he’s catching on.

“Tanner…” My throat tightens.No, not yet. Wait until you get back home before you change his world forever and announce to him that he has a two-year-old son.He looks at me expectantly and I force a smile. “Can you hand me a napkin?”

His face seems to fall a little, but he hands me a paper napkin.

“Thank you,” I say and wipe Owen’s face.

After we eat, we pack up the basket and wander over to the swing set for smaller children. The swings have deep bucket seats and belts to hold toddlers. Tanner lifts the bar and I sit Owen in the little chair. Then I buckle him all up and Tanner pushes him. Leaning against the pole, I watch Owen laugh and laugh. Which, of course, makes me and Tanner crack up.

“This is his first time in a swing,” I say.

“He loves it,” Tanner exclaims. “I don’t want to push him too high, though.”

God, watching the two of them together makes my ovaries proud. Even though I still have to come clean, I can stand here and say without doubt that Tanner and I did good. We made a beautiful, smart, amazing little man.

We created a miracle and if I can have both of these men in my life every single day, I will be the happiest woman in the world. There’s also no denying the fact that I am madly in love with Tanner again. As much as I wanted to take things slowly, I’m head over heels. He was always my happily-ever-after and now that he’s back in my life, my heart is his once again.

I just hope that he doesn’t crush it when I tell him the truth tonight about Owen.

Eventually, Owen gets tired, and we decide to head back to my place. Since he didn’t have a nap yet and is starting to get cranky, I want to put him down for a bit in his crib. Tanner follows me into the bedroom and leans against the doorframe, watching as I sit in the rocking chair.

“Sorry, it’ll just take a minute,” I say. “I always rock him before I put him down.”

“It’s fine. Take your time.”

Tanner’s voice is soft and so full of understanding. The truth is, I’m starting to freak out and wanting to delay the inevitable. But I’ve made up my mind. I’m telling him the truth as soon as Owen falls asleep. It doesn’t take long, either. In less than five minutes, I lay Owen carefully in his crib and then straighten up and turn to face Tanner.

He’s been watching me closely, hazel eyes guarded, and I take a deep breath.This is it. Time to break the news.I walk quietly toward the hall, and he pushes off the doorframe and follows me into the living room.

“Addie?”

“Yes?” I turn around and look up into his handsome face. I’m dying to reach out and touch him, but I control myself. We need to talk not have sex.

“Is Owen my son?”

Oh, God.I press my lips together and take a deep breath. “Yes,” I finally manage to whisper. “He’s yours.”

16

TANNER

Owen is my son.

I’m reeling. Even though I had a feeling it could be a possibility, now it’s confirmed. Shock fills me and I drop down on the couch, trying to fully absorb the weight of her words. I am now completely responsible for the little life in the other room. And I don’t know anything about babies. A wave of panic rises, and I rake a hand through my hair.

Addie sits down next to me. “You look really overwhelmed. Take a breath. It’s okay.”

I suck in a few deep lungful’s of air then meet her brown eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I finally ask. I can’t hide the hurt from my voice. A lot of emotions are battling inside of me right now. I’m pissed that she didn’t tell me sooner; I'm scared to death I’m going to screw our kid up with my poor parenting skills; and, most of all, I’m questioning whether I can ever trust Addie again.

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