Marriage On The Cards: Marry Me, Mackenzie! / A Proposal Worth Millions / Heart Surgeon, Hero...Husband?. Susan Carlisle

and attentive mother. The way she had always taken care of every living thing around her when they were young, he didn’t doubt it had been an easy transition into motherhood.

      “I don’t know.” Dylan shifted his eyes between mother and daughter. “Maybe.”

      “You should.” Hope tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “It’s really fun.”

      From the doorway, Aggie rattled her keys. “We’re burning daylight here! Let’s go!”

      “We’re coming,” Mackenzie said to Aggie, then to Dylan, “Thank you, Dylan. I’m sure you had a lot of things to do today. I hope this didn’t put you behind schedule too much...”

      “I was glad I could help.” Dylan found himself intrigued, once again, by Mackenzie’s unique lavender-blue eyes.

      “Well...thank you again.” Mackenzie sent him a brief smile. “Come on, kiddo. Aggie’s already got the truck running.”

      “Nice to meet you, Hope,” Dylan said.

      “Bye.” Hope lifted her hand up and gave a short wave.

      Dylan waited for Mackenzie and Hope to turn and head toward the door. As Hope turned, something on the very top of her left ear caught his eye. Instead of following directly behind them, Dylan was too distracted to move. Dylan’s eyes narrowed and latched on to Hope as he reached up to touch a similar small bump at the top of his own left ear.

      “Are you coming, Dylan?” Mackenzie had paused in the doorway.

      “What?” Dylan asked, distracted.

      “Are you coming?” Mackenzie repeated.

      Dylan swallowed hard several times. He couldn’t seem to get his mouth to move, so he just nodded his response and forced himself to remain calm. Hands jammed into his front pockets, Dylan followed them out. He watched as Mackenzie and Hope piled into Aggie’s blue long-bed dual-tire truck. Aggie backed out, Mackenzie waved goodbye and Dylan’s jumbled thoughts managed to land on one very disturbing truth: the only other time he had ever seen a small bump like Hope’s was when he was looking at himself in the mirror.

      * * *

      Instead of heading to the studio, which was his original plan, Dylan drove home on autopilot from the barn. His mind was churning like a hamster on a hamster wheel, just going around and around in the same circle. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember if he’d used a condom when he’d slept with Mackenzie. He had always been religious about it, but he hadn’t expected to sleep with anyone at the wedding. He had still been licking his wounds from his breakup with Christa, and ending up in Mackenzie’s hotel room that night had been a completely unplanned event. And, unless Mackenzie was in the habit of carrying condoms, which seemed out of character, there was a real good chance they’d had unprotected sex that night. In that case, it was possible, highly possible that Mackenzie’s daughter was his child.

      Dylan pulled into the garage and parked next to his black Viper. He jumped out of his car and headed inside. He walked straight into the downstairs bathroom, flipped on the light and leaned in toward the mirror. He touched the tiny bump on his ear with his finger. He hadn’t been imagining it—Hope’s bump matched his. What were the odds that another man, the one who’d fathered Hope, would have the same genetic mark?

      “I wouldn’t bet on it,” Dylan said as he left the bathroom. He went into the living room and pulled open the doors of the custom-built bookcases. He knelt down and started to search through the books on the bottom shelf. He found what he was looking for and pulled it off the shelf. His heart started to thud heavily in his chest as he sat down in his recliner and opened the old family photo album. On the way home, an odd thought had taken root in his mind. There was something so familiar about Hope and he couldn’t get a particular family photo, one of his favorites, out of his mind.

      Dylan flipped through the pages of the album until he found the photo he’d been looking for. He turned on the light beside the recliner and held the photo under the light.

      “No...” Dylan leaned over and studied the photo of his mother and his aunt Gerri sitting together on the porch. His mom had to be around twelve and Aunt Gerri looked to be near eight or nine. Hope was the spitting image of Aunt Gerri. Yes, she had Mackenzie’s coloring, but those features belonged to his family. That bump on Hope’s ear came directly from his genes. He’d stake his life on it.

      “No...” Dylan closed his eyes. A rush of heat crashed over his body, followed by a wave of nausea. He had a daughter. He was a father. Hope was his child.

       What the hell is going on here?

      “Babe!” Jenna came through the front door carrying an empty tote bag over her shoulder. “Where are you?”

      “In the den.” Dylan leaned forward and dropped his head down.

      “There you are...” Jenna dropped her bag on the floor. She climbed into his lap and kissed him passionately on the mouth.

      “I’ve missed you, babe.” Jenna curled her long legs up; rested her head on his shoulder.

      “I’ve missed you, too,” Dylan said in a monotone.

      “Whatcha lookin’ at?” Jenna asked.

      Dylan reached over with his free hand and shut the album. “I was just checking something out for Aunt Gerri.”

      “Be honest.” Jenna unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. “Are you upset with me?”

      “Why would I be upset with you?” Dylan felt suffocated and wished Jenna wasn’t sitting on him, but he didn’t have the heart to push her away.

      “Because I’m going to be staying with Denise in LA...didn’t you get my message?”

      Dylan tried to focus on what Jenna was saying. “When are you leaving?”

      “Tomorrow. Remember the audition I had this week? I got the pilot!” Jenna squealed loudly as she hugged him tightly. “Can you believe it?!”

      “Congratulations, Jenna. I’m really happy for you.”

      “And not mad?”

      “No.” Dylan rubbed his hand over her arm. “Of course not.”

      “I mean—we can still probably see each other on weekends.”

      “Sure.”

      “And...” Jenna kissed the side of his neck. “I think the sex’ll be even hotter when we do see each other, don’t you think?”

      Dylan tried to muster a smile in response, but he just wanted her to get off his lap.

      “Do you want to go upstairs for a quickie before I grab my stuff?” Jenna slipped her hand into his shirt so she could run her hand over his bare chest. “I only have, like, an hour because I have to finish packing over at my place, but...we still have time. If you want...”

      Dylan patted her leg. “Not now, Jenna. I’m...beat.”

      Jenna shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s okay. But at least come up and keep me company while I pack.”

      Jenna uncurled herself from his lap, held out her hand and wiggled her fingers so he’d take her hand. Dylan followed Jenna up the stairs. He sat on the edge of the soaker tub while Jenna cleaned out the drawer he had cleared out for her. He listened while she chattered excitedly about her new job, but he couldn’t focus on her words. His mind was fixated on one thing and one thing only: Hope. Usually he enjoyed hanging out with low-demand Jenna. But today she was grating on his nerves, and he had never been so happy to see her go. He had gone through the motions of carrying her bag out to her BMW and then kissing her as if he meant it before she drove away. There was an unspoken goodbye in that kiss; he had the feeling that it was only a matter of time before their relationship fizzled under the pressure of distance. They had both always known that neither one of them was playing a long