Susan Mallery - Full-Time Father

“The picnic sounds great. I’ll keep Christie quiet this morning.”

“This might be a good time to check out the library on the second floor,” he told her.

“We’ll go investigate.”

“Intestivate,” Christie repeated.

“Almost,” Erin told her. “Let’s go eat breakfast.”

She held out her hand and Christie took it. She tilted her head. “Are you coming, Daddy, or are you going to work now?”

“I’m going to work. Kiki will bring me some breakfast later.”

“Okay, bye.” She waved with her free hand, then turned and headed for the kitchen. “I didn’t know my daddy was going to be this nice. I’m glad we found him.”

Erin glanced over her shoulder and saw Parker staring after them. He must have heard Christie’s comment. The masculine planes of his face were harsh with longing. Erin knew what his regret was-he regretted all the time he’d lost with this precious child.

The remains of their picnic lay scattered on the blanket. Kiki had prepared sandwiches and two different kinds of salad. The cookies had disappeared quickly. She’d even provided juice for Christie and wine for the adults.

Erin sat cross-legged on the blanket. A warm breeze ruffled her hair. The temperature was close to seventy-five, the sun was bright, the ocean a brilliant shade of blue.

“Ooh, it’s so cold!” Christie screamed as the white foamy fingers of a wave tickled her bare feet. The ocean surged away from the shore, and she raced after it, only to shriek and run back when it flowed in again.

Parker had stretched out on his back, one hand under his head. His wineglass rested on his flat belly. He turned toward Christie. “If you see little bubbles in the sand, that means there are crabs hiding there.”

“Really?” She bent over and checked for the narrow holes. “But I can’t dig very fast.” Her smile turned sly. “If I had a puppy I bet he could dig faster than any old crab.”

“Nice try,” Erin said. “It’s not going to work, but it’s a very nice try.”

Christie raced toward them, swooped down and picked up the inflatable beach ball Kiki had unearthed from somewhere. It was bright yellow and nearly too big for Christie to hold. She flung it in the air and raced after it.

Parker continued to watch her for several minutes. “If you and Stacey are identical twins and Stacey is Christie’s mother, what does that make you?”

“Her aunt and her legal guardian.”

He turned his head until he was looking at her. “I know that. I was thinking about the biology. Genetically, aren’t you more her mother than her aunt?”

“I’m not sure.” She frowned. “I suppose I am. Identical twins share DNA. In theory I guess I could be her genetic mother.”

Which raised another interesting theory. If she and Parker had a child together, they could have one exactly like Christie. Of course the odds were against it, but next time she couldn’t sleep, she would mull it over in her mind. It sounded more interesting than counting sheep.

She reached for her wine.

“Did you legally adopt Christie?” he asked.

Her hand froze in midair as a shiver raced down her spine. “Why do you want to know?”

His mouth softened with concern. He stretched out his arm and grabbed her hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was curious not probing. I swear I have no plans to kidnap Christie or sue for custody.”

His fingers squeezed hers. Awareness coursed through her easing away the fear. She liked the feel of him holding her hand. Foolishly it made her feel safe. She settled her gaze on his chest, watching the rise and fall from his breathing.

“I overreacted,” she said. “I think it’s this situation. Even though I tried to plan for everything, it’s still very strange to be here with you, to watch you with Christie.”

He gave her fingers a final squeeze, then released her. “She loves you. Nothing can change that.”

“I know. Christie has a big heart. She could love the world.” In the distance the little girl laughed and tossed her beach ball in the air.

“Robin and I talked about having children. We met in high school. We were both computer nerds back before it was popular.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Everyone thought she was kind of goofy looking, but I thought she was pretty.”

A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. She itched to push it in place. Instead she curled her fingers toward her palm and willed herself to pay attention to his story. Maybe if he talked about his late wife enough, she, Erin, would stop being so attracted to him.

“We went to the same college. She was brilliant.”

“What were you?”

His half smile turned into a grin. “Merely smart.”

“I doubt that.”

“It’s true. Robin thought like a computer. We started the company and were wildly successful. Then one day she didn’t feel well.” His eyes fluttered closed.

Erin wondered what he was remembering, then figured it was better that she didn’t know. She stared across the sand to where Christie was digging for crabs. The waves rushed in and filled her handiwork. She sat back on her heels and laughed.

“It took the doctor a while to figure out what was wrong. Finally they diagnosed amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Lou Gehrig’s disease,” he added, before she could ask.

“How horrible. For both of you. But-” She frowned. She knew Robin had been dead for several years. “It’s ultimately fatal, but I thought it moved slowly.”

“You mean it shouldn’t have killed her yet?” His voice was harsh.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“You’re right. It shouldn’t have. Robin got the flu. It turned into pneumonia and she died of that.”

He still hadn’t opened his eyes. She couldn’t read his expression, but she felt his pain. And his guilt. But why would he feel guilty? He couldn’t have prevented her from dying. He wasn’t a medical expert.

“How long has it been?” she asked, vaguely remembering he’d mentioned it yesterday but not recalling the exact amount of time that had passed.

“Just over five years. She died in April. It was the same year your sister was here as a programming intern.” He raised his hand to his face and rubbed his forehead. “I should have canceled the program. I wasn’t in any shape to help those kids. But I knew they’d given up lucrative summer jobs to come here and work with me. In a way, I thought it might help me recover. I was wrong.”

Erin sucked in a breath. “You loved her very much.”

He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Yes.” I still do. He didn’t say the words but she heard them.

The last confusing pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Stacey had fallen for the emotionally tragic Parker. He had been her dark prince personified. With her need to create the most drama in a situation, Stacey could have inflated all kinds of half-truths into what she wanted to believe. She had been ripe for romance and Parker had fulfilled her every fantasy. Except one. He had never even known she was alive.

Her throat tightened painfully. The situation had been a disaster waiting to happen. If only Stacey had told her what was going on. She might have been able to help her. Erin sighed. She was wishing for the moon. Stacey wouldn’t have wanted to hear the truth. She was more interested in her romantic fantasies.

But if she had contacted Erin, maybe Stacey wouldn’t have died.

“I’m sorry,” Parker said.

Erin blinked at him, trying to figure out what he was apologizing for. Surely he couldn’t read her mind. He set his wineglass on the blanket, then sat up.

“I didn’t mean to dump all that on you,” he said.

“It’s okay.”

“For some reason you’re easy to talk to.”

The compliment made her want to smile. “Maybe because we’re strangers,” she said. “I’m safe.”

“Possibly. And I’ve been hiding out here too long. Maybe I have become a recluse.”

No problem, Erin thought. He was a recluse, and she was turning into her sister. She’d wanted to grin like a fool because he told her she was easy to talk to. Now she was crushed because he practically told her it was because she was convenient. Anyone would have done. Get a grip!

He rose to his feet. “I’ll try not to be a self-centered bore,” he promised.

“Gee, what kind of bore will you be?”

He grinned. Her heart shifted into overdrive.

“An entertaining bore.” With that he sprinted down the beach toward Christie.

Erin watched him go. Sunlight gleamed on his dark hair and he moved with the loose-hipped grace of a natural athlete. He was far too handsome for her peace of mind. Thank goodness she was the sensible Ridgeway twin. If she wasn’t, she might be in danger of falling for him, and the last thing she needed was a broken heart.

Parker pulled his Mercedes into the spacious garage that had originally been built to store both automobiles and carriages. He grabbed his bulging briefcase and headed for the main house. By the time he hit the grass-lined path, he’d already loosened his tie and was in the process of pulling it off. There was a time when dabbling in the corporate world had been interesting and new but today the meetings had interfered with his limited time with Christie.

He jogged the last couple of feet, then stepped into the kitchen. Kiki was simmering chili for dinner. The spicy fragrance tempted him, but he hurried past without stopping to taste.

It had been a week since Erin had shown up on his doorstep with her wild tales about a child that belonged to him. A week since he’d first met Christie and she came into his life. A week of seeing in color, instead of in black-and-white.

“I’m back,” he called when he stepped into the empty living room.

“We’re on the terrace,” Kiki said.

He followed her voice and found his housekeeper and Erin sitting on chaise lounges and talking.

After a couple of weeks of summerlike weather, the temperature had dropped fifteen degrees and the fog had rolled in. For the past three days the mornings had been gray and misty, and the afternoons not much above sixty-five degrees. Erin wore a fuzzy blue sweater and black jeans. He ignored the curve of her breasts and long lines of her legs. Since that first night when he’d kissed her and experienced a reaction that had left him stunned and the next day when he’d squeezed her hand and had to fight painful arousal, he’d avoided any physical contact with her. He’d been pleasant and accommodating, but he’d refused to touch her. If he didn’t look or touch he wouldn’t do something stupid, such as get interested. So far the plan was working.

“How was your meeting?” Kiki asked. She was in one of her jogging suits. This one was white with a trail of butterflies up one leg and across the jacket. What amazed him the most was the tiny butterflies on her athletic shoes.

“The meeting was too long,” he said. “But we got everything accomplished. I shouldn’t have to go back for about a month.” He glanced around the terrace. “Where’s Christie?”

Kiki raised her pale eyebrows. “Come join us, Parker. We were talking about vacations. You haven’t had one in a long time. Sit. You might learn something.”

“Yeah, maybe next time.” He glanced around the terrace one more time, then stepped toward the living room. “Christie?”

Erin took pity on him. “She’s upstairs playing.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re quite smitten, Parker,” Kiki said.

“She’s my kid. I’m supposed to be.”

He met Erin’s gaze. A flash of understanding connected them. Her mouth curved in a smile, exposing the dimple in her right cheek. Without the bright sunlight to highlight the red in her shoulder-length hair, the color was a dull brown. He supposed she wasn’t especially beautiful, but he didn’t mind. She was generous with his daughter’s time, allowing him to be with Christie as much as he wanted, and he was grateful for that. She was a nice person. Her only request was that he treat her daughter well. An easy enough task.

“When’s dinner?” he asked.

“Six o’clock.” Kiki glanced at her watch. “You’ve got an hour and a half.”

He was in the living room before she finished speaking. He left his briefcase and tie on the floor and started up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“Christie? I’m home.”

“Daddy!” Christie barreled out of his office. They met on the second-floor landing.

He caught her before she crashed into his legs. With a quick lift, he had her up in the air and circling around like an airplane.

“Can you fly?” he asked.

She laughed loudly. “I’m a birdie.”

One arm supported her chest, the other her hips. “I thought you’d want to be a jet.”

She shook her head. “Birdies are pretty. Planes smell bad.”