Page 57 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad

Then there was the fact that while Lindsay knew my secret, I still hadn't told my father. But for right now, I just wanted to get home and into my own bed to rest.

When it was time for my discharge, I was wheeled out in a wheelchair to my father's car. Lindsay had left earlier to go to class. She said she was willing to stay and help me, but because this whole situation was so odd, I encouraged her to go. I needed a respite from the drama.

As my father drove us back home, he was quiet, making me wonder if he was worried, reliving the past with my mother, or maybe he knew the secret as well.

"That Brett McKinnon is sure being generous,” he finally said with a tone that sounded as if he suspected something was up.

I closed my eyes, wishing I didn't have to have this conversation now. I wished I didn’t have to have it at all.

"Your friend Lindsay told me that she didn't make it to the cabin over Christmas, which means you were alone with her father. I know I'm a simple man, Miranda, but..."

I let out a sigh. "It's what you think."

My father glanced at me, his expression one of shock and maybe disappointment. He turned his eyes back to the road. "I'm not sure what to think about that. I guess I’ve always seen you as my little girl. I mean, I figured you dated, but Mr. McKinnon is so much older than you."

"I don't know how to explain it." I'd made an attempt with Lindsay, but hearing it come from my mouth, it hadn’t made sense.

"Sexual desire is a powerful thing."

I closed my eyes, turning my head toward the window, not wanting to talk about my sex life with my father.

He was quiet for a moment. "If you can't be talking about the deed, Miranda, you shouldn't be doing it. There's a child involved now, and trying to avoid it isn't going to make it go away. If Mr. McKinnon is the father of your baby—"

"He is."

"Then he has responsibility to you and the baby."

I shook my head. "He has no responsibility to me. I might've been stupid to sleep with him, but I wasn't ignorant. I knew the potential ramifications. He might have responsibilities to the baby, but I don't want him involved."

My father glanced at me with a frown on his face. "Why not? Did he hurt you? Is he abusive? Lindsay doesn't give off the vibe of an abused child."

"He's not a physically abusive dad, but he is powerful and has money. Did Lindsay tell you about her mother? Brett got full custody. I don't want him taking my child from me."

"Do you think that's a possibility?"

In my mind, Brett was capable of anything. After all, he'd shown up on my doorstep drunk and called me a gold digging whore. "I don't know."

We drove on, my father's fingers flexing and then re-gripping the wheel as if he was deep in thought. Finally, he said, "I guess that means that you and he aren't in love. This was just a sexual relationship."

I nodded.

"Are you sure there is no possibility of you two being together? I only ask because he's quite intent on taking over your care, making sure that you have everything and anything you and the baby might need. He seemed genuine in his concern about you in the hospital. I just wonder if maybe he feels something for you."

I remembered Lindsay mentioning that she thought her father was half in love with me, but that was laughable. People don’t call the people they love gold digging whores.

"Taking over could be part of him wanting to be in control and eventually get custody. I don't want him around, Dad."

My father's expression was pained. "If he's the father, Miranda, I don't know how we can keep him away."

We turned onto my street and pulled up to the house. A fancy SUV was parked in front.

I shot a look at my father as he pulled into the driveway. "Is he here?"

"Yes. He insisted on making sure everything in the house was prepared for you. He's giving you everything I wish I could give you. I didn't know how to say no."

I desperately wished my father were a stronger, more assertive man, but at the same time, I understood the difficult situation he was in. I reached over and took his hand. "We'll figure it out."

Just then, the door of my car opened and Brett was there. He reached into the car as if he were going to pick me up.

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