“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I ask Sawyer again. We’re left alone at the dining table as Katie takes William away.

“Yeah,” he says unconvincingly. “I mean, Katie’s a grown-up. She doesn’t need my permission to do anything. In fact, if I tried to tell her not to do something, it usually just makes her want to do whatever it is even more.”

“You say that, but you don’t seem very comfortable with the idea.”

“What can I say? She’s my sister and it just feels weird to be meddling in her relationship stuff.” Sawyer narrows his eyes at me. “You don’t have a sister, do you?”

“No.”

“That’s what I thought. Just take my word for it; it’s just weird.” He pauses. “How would you feel if I told you to find your mom a date on some dating app?”

I think about sifting through inappropriate, overtly sexual messages from middle-aged men in order to find a gentleman for my mom. As I twitch at the thought, Sawyer laughs.

“See? Now you know what I mean,” he says.

“The kid, who’s the father?” I blurt out, unable to stop the question that’s been brewing in my mind since I laid my eyes on her again.

Katie. My Katie. My kitten.

I’m sure it’s her. There’s no question about that.

The only question that remains in my mind is . . .

Is that my boy?

“Are you thinking . . .” From the way Sawyer stares at me, I can tell he already knows why I asked the question, but he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

I know. It seems too crazy to be true.

He works on a case for two years, gives up, and in the end realizes the person he’s been hired to find is his sister all along?

On top of the shock of me possibly being the father of his nephew, maybe Sawyer’s also assessing his life choices, considering he couldn’t even find someone who was right under his nose the entire time.

“Yes, I’m thinking whatever you’re thinking,” I say. “Do you know who the father of your nephew is?”

“No.” Sawyer appears dazed, like he’s in shock and still grappling with the mind-blowing implications of our conversation.

“How old is the boy?”

“He . . . uh . . . just had his second birthday not too long ago.”

My heart stops, although I was expecting and hoping for that very answer. “And by ‘not too long ago,’ do you mean about, say, three or four months ago?”

Sawyer goes quiet as he thinks. “Maybe.”

“Hmm . . . ‘Maybe.’” My fingers tap on the wooden dining table.

That’s Katie—I’m sure of it.

And the boy’s a little over two years old.

My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I saw Katie in the kitchen. I can’t go home like this and spend the whole night in suspense. That would be torture.

I usually prefer to use more care and calculation before making a big decision . . .

But I’ve already spent so many nights pining for Katie, wishing I could see her again. Even jerking off has become a sad affair, now that the only thing that can get me off is the memory of taking Katie for the first time in The Succubus.

But that won’t be the last time; now that I’ve found her again, I’ll make sure of it. Especially if that boy is really mine.

“Has your sister ever mentioned working at The Succubus?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” Sawyer draws a deep breath. “Honestly, a couple of years ago, we were both working so much we hardly saw each other.”

“But hearing that she might’ve worked at The Succubus doesn’t surprise you?”

“After hearing about how you might be the father of my nephew?” Sawyer asks. “Yeah, no. Not really.”

“Fair enough.” I nod.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sawyer says.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re judging me for not being a better brother.”

“I’m not.”

“Look, when Katie and I were younger, we had to work our asses off. We had shitty jobs with shitty wages, so we had to put in a ton of hours just to make enough money to survive,” Sawyer says.

“Okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“We had many jobs, too. Both of us,” he keeps going. “I can’t keep track of all her jobs, and vice versa.”

“It’s okay, man. You did what you could,” I say. I’m starting to sense that Sawyer’s trying to justify his actions to himself and not to me.

Sawyer looks out the window into the distance. “I think she may have had some questionable jobs, like working as a sexy waitress or something. But The Succubus . . . That’s something else.”

“If it makes you feel better, it was probably not as bad as you think. Also, I suspect she only worked there for less than a week.”

Sawyer nods. “Thanks, man. I know you’re trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate that.

“Sometimes, I can’t help but feel guilty over how Katie’s life’s turned out. I mean, yeah, she has a good job, and she’s making good money. But she’s also struggling because she’s on her own.

“I try to help out when I can, but it’s not enough. It’s too little, too late. I should’ve taken better care of her when she was younger.”

“For what it’s worth,” I say, “I think she’s doing great on her own. And I’m sure it has something to do with how you raised her to be hard-working and resilient.”

Sawyer laughs. “Now you’re just bullshitting me. You don’t even know how I raised her.”

“No, but I know you, and I’m sure she learned a lot from your example.”

Sawyer falls silent. He looks straight at me and gives me a small smile. “Thanks for saying that. You don’t know how much that means to me. Katie keeps telling me William needs a ‘male role model’ in his life, and I can’t help but worry that I’ll fall short, you know?”

“Yeah,” I say. I’ve actually been impatiently waiting for Sawyer to stop chattering about the past so I can ask him about the future, and he’s just given me a good opener. “Speaking of William, has he ever asked about his father?”

“Not yet. He’s way too young for that.” Sawyer shakes his head. Then, he chuckles. “Katie plans on faking amnesia when he does ask.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I laugh. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to fly.”

“I think it’s going to be fine, at least until he’s older,” says a female voice that surprises both Sawyer and me into silence.

“Hey, little man,” Sawyer says as he picks up his nephew—who could also be my son.

I stare at William’s dark, curly hair and his clear, green eyes. Katie has dark hair, too . . . and brown eyes— just like Sawyer.

And the way he smiles kind of makes him look like my mom . . .

He’s adorable. But more than that, he feels familiar.

“Aww . . . You guys haven’t eaten at all?” Katie asks as she takes her seat. “Now the food’s all cold.”

Sawyer and I give each other a look.

I nod at him.

He nods back at me.

“Hey, where are you going?” Katie asks as Sawyer gets up from his chair, taking William with him.

“William just told me he wants to eat in the living room, so that’s where I’m taking him. You want to go sit on the couch, William?” Sawyer asks the toddler in his arm. “Yeah, you do. You want to watch TV, don’t you?”

“TV!” William exclaims happily.

Katie sighs in defeat as Sawyer lifts William up onto his shoulders goes into the living room.

“I’d tell Sawyer William’s spent too much time in front of the TV already, but he knows I’ll basically let him do anything as long as it gives me some time to myself,” Katie says.

“It must be hard on you, raising a child on your own,” I say.

“Yeah, well, like anything else in life, you get used to it,” she says matter-of-factly.

“That’s true.” My heart’s jumps up to my throat, making it hard for me to speak.

How do I even start this conversation? I can’t just go, “Hey, guess what? I’m your son’s father.”

But I also can’t afford to skirt around the issue. That two-year-old is a wild card; he could start crying while we’re having a conversation, at which point Katie would probably go and tend to him.

“Katie, you said you heard my conversation with Sawyer earlier,” I start. I can feel the throbbing of my heart in my throat.

“Yeah, just a little bit. What was that about? Me?” Katie grins as she picks up a piece of chicken. She adds, “Not that you have to tell me. It just sounded interesting.”

“It was about you,” I admit.

“Really? I thought I was just being presumptuous.” Katie stares at me like she didn’t expect my answer. “Or, more precisely, I didn’t think you were just going to admit it.”

“I’ve been looking for you. I’ve searched everywhere.”

“You’ve been . . . looking for me? Are you sure it’s me?” Katie tilts her head in delightful way while she maintains eye contact.

I remember those big, brown eyes. I’d recognize them anywhere.

I’ve already started telling her. May as well go for broke.

“Yes,” I say with certainty. “You’re the one I’ve been looking for.”

“But why?” she asks, her eyes studying me.

Hmmm . . . Why, huh? People always say that’s the hardest question, but I’ve never come across a “why” that’s harder to answer than this.

What do I say? I have a bunch of reasons, but none of them seem appropriate to say right now.

Because we fucked one night, and now my cock only gets hard when I think about that night?

Because you’re the only girl who has ever been able to satisfy my dark urges?

Because you’re beautiful, and I haven’t stopped thinking about the hypnotizing way you move?

Because my work has seemed dull since that night we first met, and I don’t even care that it’s not doing as well as it could?

Because you may be the mother of my child?