I get through dinner time with Ryan, and for once it actually goes smoothly. I’m starting to get a feel for how he likes to operate. He loves broccoli for some reason, so I always make him some, but otherwise he’ll only eat chicken fingers. I’m working on getting him to eat other things, but it’s going pretty slow.

After dinner comes a little play time, and he’s in bed by seven-thirty after I read to him from a few of his favorite books. Fortunately, he’s a good sleeper, so I don’t have to worry about that.

I pour myself a glass of wine and sit down onto the couch with a sigh. I have to go to sleep in a couple hours myself and get up early with Ryan, and start this all over again. It feels daunting, but I smile to myself, thinking about the way he eats his broccoli, chomping off the tops first and then eating the stalks with noisy laughter.

I finish half my glass of wine, and just as I’m thinking about going to bed absurdly early, there’s a knock at my door. I glance at the clock, and it’s a little after eight. Frowning, I get up and walk over to it, looking out through the peephole.

Connor’s standing in the hallway, his nose and lip bloody and busted, one hand clutching his ribs.

For a second, I consider just ignoring him, but I know I can’t. I pull open the door and stare at him.

He grins at me. “Hey,” he says. “Am I a little early for lunch?”

“What the heck happened?”

He flinches. “I went to see Enzo.”

“Oh no,” I groan.

“I didn’t find him,’ he says quickly. “But a few of his guys weren’t so friendly.”

I shake my head and step aside. “Come on, let me take a look at you.”

He nods gratefully and follows me back into the apartment. I lead him into the bathroom, sit him on the toilet, and shut the door behind me.

“Strip,” I say.

He grins and immediately takes his shirt off. I watch his muscular chest and note some slight bruising on his ribs, which could be bad. He tosses the shirt aside and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m game if you are.’

I stare at him for a second, blinking fast, trying not to picture his rough hands on my body. “You want me to help you?” I manage to say.

“Yes, please,” he answers.

“Then cut it out.”

He just grins at me and I sigh. I check out his bruises and press against him, but I don’t think his ribs are broken. “You should get these X-rayed,” I say to him.

“Can’t,” he answers. “No money.”

“No insurance?”

He shakes his head and I sigh again. This guy’s going to be some serious trouble, I can already tell. I hope he’s not Ryan’s real father, but there’s something in his mannerism that reminds me of the boy. I go over the rest of his injuries, mostly minor scrapes and bruises. His lip’s split but his nose isn’t broken fortunately. He’ll have some cuts and bruises but nothing life threatening.

“You got lucky,” I say.

“Nah. I learned how to take a beating a long time ago.”

I pause at that. “Why?”

“Older brothers.” He grins at me.

I roll my eyes. “Not the same thing.”

“You don’t have brothers, I take it.”

I can’t help but smile at him. “Put your shirt back on,” I say.

He does it, although I wish he wouldn’t. Connor is gorgeous, especially with his shirt off. Despite the bruises, I want to touch him, bite him, taste his skin.

“Thanks for helping me,” he says. “I’m looking for a job right now, but I’m low on funds.”

“What do you do?” I ask him.

“I had my own business back home, installing power lines, but now…” He trails off.

I cross my arms. “What did you give up to come out here?”

“A lot,” he says softly. “But honestly, I gave it all up the night Harper took Ryan from me.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t tell if he’s lying, but he’s really convincing. I can hear the pain in his voice.

“Why did she do it?” I ask him.

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I thought maybe you knew. You were with her at the end, right?”

“Right,” I say. “But she never mentioned you.”

That bothers him, I can tell. “We had a nice life,” he says. “We weren’t in love, not really, but it was a nice life. I could provide anyway. She just…” He trails off, looking at the bathroom tile floor.

“She just what?” I prompt him.

“She loved drugs more than me.” He looks up at me.

“I’m sorry.”

‘Don’t be. I fell out of love before Ryan was even conceived. We were going through the motions at that point. I felt… responsible for her. I was afraid that if I left her, she’d backslide into her addiction and end up dead.”

“You weren’t responsible for her,” I say to him despite myself. I still don’t know if he’s bullshitting me, but this story… it feels too real.

“I know that,” he says. “But I felt it anyway. I still don’t understand what she was thinking though, taking a baby in the middle of the night.”

His voice is taut with anger. “I don’t know, either,” I tell him. “She wouldn’t talk about it. Honestly, she came out of nowhere and passed pretty quickly. It was all a blur.”

“She left him with you?” he asks me.

I nod. “It’s what she said she wanted. I think because she knows I hate her family and would never let them have Ryan.”

He nods once at that. “We have something in common then.”

I watch him carefully as he stretches his legs. “Are you for real?” I ask him finally. “I mean, you’re not just some guy working for Enzo and his family, trying to trick me into giving Ryan away?”

“I’m for real,” he says. “And I’d never give Ryan over to those sadistic bastards.”

His eyes are fire and passion, and I finally feel something inside of me snap. I don’t exactly believe him, and I definitely can’t be sure that he’s Ryan’s father, but I’m starting to believe he has nothing to do with the Gallo family. His story might actually make sense. If he was with Harper, he’d have her family’s contact information, and I bet that’s how he tracked me down.

“How’d you get my address?” I ask him suddenly.

“Enzo gave me your name, and a cop friend of mine got the address.”

“Oh,” I say, not feeling good about that.

“He was helping me track down Ryan, so I think… I think he felt like he owed me. The cop, I mean.” He shrugs a little and winces at the pain.

We lapse into silence and I’m suddenly aware of being so close to him in this small bathroom. I can tell he’s thinking about something else completely, but I’m fully here with him, with his big body and his handsome face.

I turn away from him. “You should go,” I say finally.

“Leah,” he says softly. “Can I… can I see him?”

I turn back to him, whip-fast. “No,” I say. “He’s sleeping. One step at a time.”

He nods and looks away. “Sorry. I had to try.”

“Yeah,” I say, softening. “Now come on.”

He stands and follows me out into the living room. I open the front door and he hesitates.

“I’ll take a paternity test,” he says.

That surprises me. “Really?”

“Really. Whenever you want. Hell, let’s do it tomorrow.”

I take a sharp breath. “I don’t know.”

“What can it hurt? It’ll prove my story’s true, or maybe it’ll prove that I’m a liar. Either way, you’ll know.”

I watch him for a moment before nodding once. “Fine. I’ll set it up.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, looking relieved. “Really, thank you. I know this is all pretty crazy. I just… I just want my son.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”

He nods once, his gaze lingering on me, before leaving. I shut the door behind him and lock it.

I sit back down on the couch and finish the rest of my wine in two big gulps. I’m a mess inside of contradictions and confusion. If we do this paternity test and he really is Ryan’s father, what happens then? Do I lose custody of him?

I don’t know how I can let that happen, at least not right away. Harper left Ryan to me for a reason, and I can’t just let this strange man come back into Ryan’s life without at least trying to get to know him first. He’s handsome and charming, but clearly he’s a little dangerous. Normal, sane people don’t go and confront the mafia like that.

Still, I can’t stop thinking about him, even as I go to bed. I keep seeing the way he stripped off his shirt, that cocky grin he gave me, and it drives me absolutely wild. I don’t sleep much that night, not because of Ryan, but because of that handsome stranger Connor and all the things I wish I could let him taste.