Love Always, Damian by D. Nichole King Read Free Book Online

me?”
    No.
    I shrug. “I was in town and thought—”
    “You’d drop by and feed me a line of bullshit?” His eyebrows quirk up when he says it, his blue stare holding me in place and trapping me there. He won’t let go until I fess up.
    “I…I had some plans but they got cancelled at the last minute, so what I came here to talk about doesn’t matter anymore.”
    Nothing but truth.
    Unfortunately, he’s not dropping it.
    “How did your plans involve me in the first place?”
    “They…didn’t. I mean, not completely. I mean…” I’m flustered. I don’t have an answer, and I am not— not —telling him what I originally wanted. “It was stupid, so…” I take a drink to avoid answering.
    Thankfully, our food arrives before he can respond.
    “Can I get you anything else?” our server asks, and I shake my head.
    “We’re good, thanks,” Damian says.
    “Enjoy your meal.”
    “I think I’m gonna go wash my hands,” I say. I need a minute to reorganize my thoughts and figure out how the hell I’m going to get out of his interrogation.
    I begin to slide out of the booth, Damian’s gaze hard on me. Believe me, I understand how weird this must be to him. Four years of nothing, then BAM ! I show up because I want to ask how he’s been? I wouldn’t buy that story, either.
    When I reach the end of the booth, my purse falls to the floor. It’s still open from when I pulled out my packet of herbal sweetener, and now the contents are spread out on the linoleum. Damian scoots over to pick up the items beside him. He hands me stuff: old receipts, lip balm, two pens, a data stick.
    And…
    “What’s this?” he asks, picking the picture up off the floor.
    No. No, no, no, no.
    Horrified, my cheeks burn red. He studies it, recognition creeping into his face. His lips separate, and his eyebrows pinch together.
    Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn’t have come here today. This, this is exactly what I didn’t want him to find out.
    He flips the photo around so it faces me.
    Bright blue eyes stare back at me, the exact same hue as Damian’s. Long, blonde hair that frames her face falls around her shoulders, and her smile, that sweeter than sugar smile, pushes her cheekbones up so high she squints. I love this picture of Lia—taken only last month when we went to the beach in search of seashells.
    I’m caught.
    I swallow. “My daughter.”
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 6
     
     
    Damian
     
    Daughter?
    I’m in shock. Ellie’s face softens as she waits for me to piece it together, but deep down, I’ve already guessed. I’m just not ready to admit it to myself.
    My gaze lowers to the age written on the back: three and a half years old. I turn the picture back over in my palm. She’s Ellie’s daughter all right: same blonde hair, same heart-shaped face, same small nose.
    But I don’t see Ellie in this little girl.
    No, I see my mother.
    After Mom died, I spent countless hours flipping through the picture albums she kept. Photos of Liam and me growing up. Her and Dad’s wedding day. Her childhood. I’d done it because I never wanted to forget.
    And this picture in my hand…is her.
    I’m transfixed as I do the math in my head. The visual confirmation isn’t quite enough, even with my own eyes staring back at me.
    Nine months plus three and a half years puts Ellie and me together the night before Kate’s burial. May—exactly four years ago.
    Holy. Fucking. Shit.
    Ellie studies me, blinking. She’s hoping I won’t figure it out. Or refuse to believe it. And hell, part of me doesn’t. This is too damn big to wrap my mind around.
    “What’s her name?” I ask.
    Ellie sits back down in the booth, her trip to the bathroom no longer a priority. “Lia.”
    “After Liam?”
    “Yeah.” She drops her head, and under her breath she mumbles something I don’t catch. “What was that, Elle?” I ask.
    She hesitates before she glances up at me. “I said I also named her after Kate.