“I can never forgive her.” He stated the words with certainty. “But I have to make a decision about Becca. How we move forward. I want to be with my daughter. I deserve the time to make up for what I lost.”

“You can share custody,” Dalton suggested. “Work out a schedule.”

“So I can grab small chunks of time like a part-time father?” he said bitterly. “No. I want more than that.”

“When are you going to tell her?” Cal asked.

“I don’t know. I left to get my head on straight. She doesn’t deserve me flipping out when I need to be the role model. I don’t know how she’s going to react.”

Cal stopped pacing and gave him a hard look. “She’s going to wonder how she got so lucky.”

“Maybe not. We were never as close as you guys were,” he pointed out. “It’s just recently I began to get to know her. She may not really like me. May not want me as her father.”

“Shut the hell up,” Dalton practically shouted. “Dude, you’re going to be the best father. Look at who we lived with our whole lives. If it wasn’t for Mom, we’d all be walking disasters. Becca has both you and Sydney, and she’s going to recognize how lucky she is the moment you tell her.”

His raw nerves were soothed a bit. Cal and Dalton were brutal with their honesty. If they believed he’d be a good father, he might actually be. The idea of Becca looking at him with disappointment haunted him. He pushed the image out of his mind and tried to concentrate on the bigger plan.

“Either way, you’re going to have to eventually make peace with Sydney,” Cal said. “I’m afraid when I tell Morgan, she’ll lose it. She’s very protective of you, and keeping such a secret is going to hit her hard.”

Dalton nodded. “Same thing with Raven. Our women are quite like mama bears when it comes to us.”

“I know.” The memory of sinking to his knees to pleasure the woman he was falling for again shook him to the core. Damn her. “She’s Becca’s mother, and no matter how I feel about her now, I need to give her respect. Becca will be confused enough without me trying to blame her mother.”

“You need some time to work through this,” Cal said quietly. “You can’t expect to know everything in a few hours.”

His brother might be right, but Tristan already knew he wanted something bigger than stolen hours or weekends. He wanted to offer Becca a real family—one she deserved. And there was only one way to get there, whether he liked the scenario or not.

If he went through with the plan slowly blossoming in his mind, there would be consequences. His life would never be the same, but then again, the truth had ripped away any foundation he’d ever had. He had to begin thinking like a father and do the best he could for Becca.

Sydney wouldn’t see it his way.

She’d fight him. She’d refuse. She’d threaten. She’d rant and rave and cry and push back.

But she was going to lose, because Tristan decided there was no other way, and nothing would keep him away from his daughter again.

Nothing and no one.

“You have a funny look on your face,” Dalton said. “What do you want to do?”

“I need to close my eyes and rest a bit,” he managed. He laid his pounding head against the leather cushions. “I think I’ve decided what I’m going to do.”

His brothers didn’t push him any further. Just shared a glance, then nodded. “Do you need to be alone or can we hang out with you?” Cal asked.

He clung to the sliver of peace that wriggled free and lit the way. His brothers had his back. Always.

The word barely escaped his throat, but it was a request from the heart.

“Stay.”

They didn’t ask again. Flanking him on the couch, they sat and waited together for dawn.

 

 

chapter sixteen

 

Sydney heard the door slam and sat up. Eyes gritty from lack of sleep, her jeans and sweatshirt wrinkled and creased, she pushed away her knotted tangle of hair and held her breath.

She’d eventually fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him to return. Tears long dried up, her heart bruised and aching, she prayed there was some way to reach him and make him understand. She’d carried the guilt every single day, many times sick about her decision to keep Becca a secret. But she’d done the best she could, her only focus giving her daughter a stable, happy life.

When he didn’t come find her, she made her way into the kitchen and found him making coffee. Swallowing hard, she took a seat on a stool and waited for him to speak. Or yell. Or do something. Anything.

“I’ve made a decision.”

He flung the words at her like they were chips of ice, and she knew there would be no understanding or compromise. This was the Tristan from the past—ruthless in business, distant in relationships, analyzing each situation to further himself on the path of success to achieve what he wanted. She was now the enemy and would be treated as such.

Dread coiled in her gut. “Becca’s still sleeping,” she said evenly. “I’d like us to be able to be on the same page before she gets up. I don’t want her affected the morning after her birthday.” She tried to sound calm, but her nerve endings were raw. Her question came out in a ragged whisper. “Are you okay? I was—worried.”

He didn’t even glance back. Just continued making coffee. “No, but I will be. I’ve thought about our options here, and there’s only one way to give Becca what she needs and allow me to be the father I want to be.”

“I understand. I have no problem sharing custody, Tristan. I want her to be a part of your life moving forward and would never fight you on this. We just need to take some time to figure things out.”

The coffeepot began to brew merrily. He took a mug from the cabinet and lined it up neatly on the granite countertop. “Partial custody won’t be enough. Not to make up for the last seven years. I’ll have to be involved in her day-to-day schedule for us to get to know each other the way we both need.”

She blinked, tamping down the rising panic threatening to choke her. “Becca needs me. There’s no way you’re going to take her away from me.”

“I don’t intend to as long as you agree to the plan.”

Her mouth trembled, but she made herself speak. “What plan?”