“I know.” He rested two fingers lightly on her arm. Swallowed. “It’s hard to lose your mom. Mine died when I was fifteen.”

“Do you have a dad?”

Jack drew in a slow breath. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in detail about his background since the summer he’d poured his heart out to Christi. Her betrayal had taught him to suppress every feeling and memory that could cause pain. Dredging them up tonight—or ever again—hadn’t been in his plans.

But perhaps opening up a bit to this child who was linked to him by DNA if not yet by heartstrings would crack the door to future sharing . . . and caring.

“No.” Jack moved the brownie he’d taken back to the plate with the others and wove his fingers together on the table. “He died while I was in college—six months after my older brother was killed in a car accident.”

Hannah continued to watch him. “Do you have any other brothers or sisters?”

“No.”

“So are you all by yourself?”

He tried to conjure up a smile, but only managed a twist of the lips. “Not anymore.”

The tear spilled over her lower lash and began to track down her cheek. “It’s lonely without Mom.”

“Maybe we can keep each other company.”

“It’s not the same.”

“I know.”

Hannah drew her finger through a wayward drop of milk on the table. “Mom never told me anything about you, except that you were nice. Whenever I asked her why you weren’t with us, she always said she’d tell me someday.” Hannah looked at him, as if expecting an answer to that question.

He began to sweat.

If he said he hadn’t known she existed, she might be mad at her mother for keeping the secret from him. That could complicate her grief. At this age, she wouldn’t understand Natalie’s rationale.

Heck, he didn’t understand it. In fact, since the reality of his paternity had sunk in, it had been a struggle every day to deal with his growing anger over her decision to keep that knowledge a secret all these years and deprive him of the chance to be part of his daughter’s early life. Yes, taking on the role of dad back then would have changed his plans—and maybe Natalie hadn’t wanted to foist that obligation on him, given the state he was in the last time he’d seen her—but the choice of how to deal with his daughter should have been his.

Hannah didn’t need to know any of that, though.

And he sure wasn’t going to mention the one-night stand that had produced her. Besides, how much did a ten-year-old know about what went into making babies, anyway?

“You aren’t going to tell me either, are you?” Another tear trailed down Hannah’s face.