“Sorry, guys. Remember I told you someone special was coming over.”
They hopped off the swings in tandem, sending my heart rate soaring. Rogan landed on his feet, while Reagan toppled to her knees. Immediately, my boy was there to help his sister up. The way he protected her melted my heart.
“You good?” He brushed the dirt from her pants.
“Yup. Fanks, Ro,”
She grabbed his hand and they skipped across the grass, completely out of sync. I spun on my heel, moving back to the door, while sending prayer after prayer to whoever in the universe was listening that everything would be all right. My babies deserved nothing less.
Opening the door, I’d barely made it past the threshold when I was nearly taken out as the twins rushed past me. They came to a screeching halt though when they saw Duncan standing in the living room.
Rogan stepped in front of Reagan, spread his feet, crossed his arms over his chest, and narrowed his ice-blue eyes.
“Not you again.”
5DISTRACTION BY DESSERT
Duncan
Pride washed over me when Rogan stepped in front of his sister. His instincts were spot-on, it just burned how he thought she needed protecting from me. I was a stranger in his home. He didn’t know I’d walk through fire to keep them safe, neither of them did. They’d learn in time.
I stepped back a few paces, giving them a wide berth, as Sloane took each of their hands, leading them to the sofa. She sat in the middle with Rogan on her left and Reagan on her right. A subtle tilt of her head had me moving to the armchair directly opposite them.
“This is my friend, Duncan. He and I have something very important to tell you guys, okay?”
Two sets of eyes flashed in my direction––one pair timid and questioning, the other cool and indifferent. I could work with both.
“Hi, guys.” The slight tremor in my voice gave away my nerves.
“You’re da man from da picture.”
Reagan’s voice was so soft I thought for sure I’d heardher wrong. I looked to Sloane for help, but she sat frozen, her eyes wide in shock. It hit me then, like a crushing blow to the sternum. The photo albums. She knew.
I swallowed and nodded. “I am.”
“You’re my daddy?”
Fuck, this little girl slayed me.
“Yes.”
“Liar,” Rogan spat.
His outburst snapped Sloane out of whatever state she was in.
“That’s enough, Rogan James,” she admonished. “Rudeness will not be tolerated in this house.”
“But he’s lying.”
She cupped his face. “He’s not, Love.”
“He is. My name is Rogan”––his steely gaze cut to me––“not Duncan.”
Fuck, fuck, and fuck again.
The pain in his eyes felt like a knife twisting deep in my chest. Of course she told him he was named after his father. Why wouldn’t she? She had no idea I was undercover. The fault for that sat squarely on my shoulders. What happened after would be more difficult to explain. Hell, it was confusing for us and we were adults. Where did we begin and how much should we divulge? Would a seven-year-old even comprehend the level of deceit used to keep us apart? The potential for disaster was astronomical.
I leaned forward, dropping my elbows to my knees. “When I met your mom, I was working undercover for the FBI. Do you know what that means?”