The Single Daddy Club Boxed Set

by Donna Fasano

  How in the world had his and Gina's lives become so disorganized?

  A self-deprecating chuckle escaped from his throat. Who was he kidding? He was the world's worst housekeeper. And although he loved Gina dearly, he also knew he was the world's worst father. All thumbs and with not an ounce of common sense when it came to being a parent. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out how he could stare down a gun-wielding thief in the worst part of town, but fall completely to pieces at the mere sight of a slight rash on his daughter's delicate, alabaster butt. It made no sense, but it was a concept he had to deal with on a day-to-day basis.

  He used a fragrant, moist baby wipe to clean Gina's little rear end.

  It had looked as though Mrs. Haskell was going to be the answer to his prayers. So what if she didn't pick up after Gina? He'd kind of grown used to toys being strewn from one end of the house to the other. He could live with the clutter.

  But then the department had informed all the police officers that there would be a few months of forced shift rotation. One week Jason would work days, the next he'd work evenings and the next, nights. It was hell.

  Jason had worked his first night shift just last night. He'd been so tired when he'd gotten home this morning just after seven that all he'd wanted to do was dive right into bed. But as he'd come through the front door, Mrs. Haskell had been putting on her jacket. The woman had slept in the guest bedroom and looked very refreshed and ready to start her day. Gina, too, had gotten a full night's sleep, judging from her rambunctious behavior since his arrival home.

  His utter exhaustion had him speaking before thinking; he'd simply asked Mrs. Haskell if she'd stay long enough for him to catch a few hours of sleep. And the woman had given him what for, and then she'd up and quit. Just like that. No notice. No second chances. One moment, she was there, the next she was gone.

  Now Jason was back to square one with regards to a sitter for his daughter.

  Gina squirmed on the quilted changing pad.

  "Wait, honey," he said. But he'd taken too long to get the diaper into position. Unless he turned into an octopus with eight arms, he knew he was going to lose this battle.

  She wiggled, whined and complained until Jason was afraid she'd fall from the table. She wanted down onto the floor, and she wanted down now.

  "Okay, okay."

  He set her down and she ran off squealing gleefully in all her stark-naked glory.

  "But we need to put your diaper on," he called as she disappeared from sight.

  Heaving a sigh, he just shook his head and lifted his hands in surrender, one still holding the powder-scented Huggie.

  Jason knew he needed to find a sitter. And he needed to find one before his eleven o'clock shift began tonight. Of course, he could always call one of the guys. Reese or Derrick would probably agree to take Gina for the night. They certainly had done it in the past.

  But there was no guarantee that his daughter would sleep through the night. And both Reese and Derrick had to be at work early. Both also had children of their own to worry about.

  Maybe Jack and Ellen—

  He snuffed out the thought before it even formed. Ever since Gina was born, Jason had made it a habit not to impose on his in-laws. Maybe as a last resort... but they both had jobs and needed their rest, especially since they were getting on in years.

  Lord, he hoped he wouldn't have to call in to work and excuse himself from duty again. The chief had been good to him since Marie had died and Jason had found himself the single parent of a newborn daughter. But Jason felt that he'd been cut enough slack. He wanted to show the department—hell, he wanted to show everyone—that he could raise his little girl without being a burden to friends, family, and co-workers.

  Damn if his back wasn't up against the wall.

  Da-gone it! He'd just cursed twice. He swiftly and silently berated himself. If he was thinking the words, it wouldn't be long before he was saying them. Stress wasn't a good enough reason to be teaching Gina language she didn't need to be repeating.

  He had to find a new sitter. Today. But could he find someone that Jack and Ellen would approve of? It had taken him weeks to find Mrs. Haskell, and days to convince his in-laws that the woman was qualified to watch Gina. Could he—

  The deafening crash made his heart skip a beat and had him running down the hallway toward the sound. His knees nearly buckled when he heard Gina scream.

  Jason burst through the kitchen doorway and took a moment to assess the situation. Pots and pans from the bottom cupboard had obviously tumbled, or more likely been tossed, onto the floor. And a surprised laugh burst from him when he saw the predicament his daughter had gotten herself into.

  Evidently Gina had decided to play a game of hide-and-seek, one of her favorite pastimes. She'd cleared out the pots from the cabinet and was on her way to crawling inside the perfect hidey-hole. But she'd run into a problem. The cabinet door had swung shut before she was all the way inside, and now she was pinned, her bare behind peeking from the wedge of darkness. Stretched out over top of the pot lids that were stacked inside the cabinet, she was held captive by the simple force of gravity.

  Gina let out a yelp of frustration that had Jason chuckling even harder. At least she wasn't hurt. Her scream had scared him witless for a second. He hated to admit it, but he knew he could better handle himself against an armed attacker than he could at just the thought of Gina being hurt, or sick, or in pain, or bruised, or bleeding. Damn, this parenting business was not for the faint of heart.

  "I'm here," he crooned softly as he came to her rescue.

  He opened the door wide, crouched down onto his knees and helped her to her feet. "We really need to put a diaper on your bare butt, Miss Gina. Then we need to get you into some clothes, and then we have to clean up this house a little bit."

  But his daughter was off and running before he could capture her, her high-pitched giggles echoing in his ears. He looked after her, but didn't move. He simply didn't have the energy to play a game of chase. Leaning back on his heels, he rubbed his hand over his face. "Give me strength," he whispered.

  The whole house looked like a cyclone had gone through it—and one had—a cyclone by the name of Gina.

  What was he going to do about a sitter? The question echoed through his thoughts for the umpteenth time. He was desperate here. His daughter was running around the house as naked as a jaybird and he felt too darned exhausted to do anything about it.

  Shifting his weight, he sat down on the floor among the pots, pans, brightly colored plastic blocks and, of course, Gina's infamous wooden duck. Jason lowered his gaze to avoid looking around him. He needed help, and he needed it badly. Resting his chin on his palm, he simply sat there, dismally wondering how he could be so inept.

  * * *

  Katherine Anastasia Wellingford stood on the sidewalk outside the small, white Cape Cod house. Shifting her suitcase from one hand to the other, she looked back down along the long row of similarly styled homes to the far end of the residential street where the bus had dropped her off.

  It had been her first experience on public transit, and she had to admit to having been pleasantly surprised by the ride. The elderly driver of the rickety old bus had been more than amiable and courteous. He'd engaged her in conversation and had even helped point her in the right direction as she got off the bus.

  But no amount of friendly banter could calm the jitters that now erupted in her stomach. Digging deep into the pocket of her neatly pressed, light wool trousers, Katherine clamped her fingers on the slip of paper and pulled it into view. She checked the street name, trying hard to control the tremble of her hand.

  She'd gotten Jason Devlin's house number from the head nurse at the Children's Hospital in Salisbury where Katherine volunteered three days every week. The head nurse had gotten the man's address from a friend who lived in Bayview, the wife of a policeman who worked with Mr. Devlin. The head nurse, Sharon Smyth—"Smyth, with a Y," Sharon would always say, Katherine r
emembered with a grin—had helped her so much. The woman had been a godsend when Katherine had decided that it was time for her to flee—no, she refused to think of her actions as running away. She would think of it as moving from home to be on her own. She was twenty-five, for heaven's sake. It certainly was about time she made her own way in the world, wasn't it?

  Her mouth suddenly turned as dry as a ball of cotton. If her father found her, there would be hell to pay. And the fact that she was more than certain he would search for her only made her tightly drawn nerves stretch even farther.

  Katherine forcefully pushed the thought from her mind. She had to remain focused. And calm. She needed to find employment and a place to stay. From what she'd heard, Jason Devlin was having trouble keeping a sitter for his little girl. "He changes sitters faster than a girl changes shoes," was what she'd been told. Why that might be did worry her a bit. Was there something wrong with the man? Was he unduly strict with those in his employ? Did he expect too much? Was his daughter a holy terror?

  She stopped in her tracks. Did any of those things matter? She was in a predicament, and a job—one that paid money—was the only way out of it.

  If the man needed someone to watch his child, and if Katherine could talk him into giving her the job, that would take care of the financial end of her troubles. She'd worry about a place to sleep tonight right after she'd spoken with Mr. Devlin.

  The concrete sidewalk that led to the front door was short. Katherine raised her hand to knock, but then looked down at the suitcase she carried. It certainly would look odd for her to be bringing luggage when she had come to inquire about a job.

  She stepped off the small front porch and tucked the case behind the large yew bush growing beside the front door. Inhaling deeply, she smoothed her hand over her hair, then down the front of her creamy silk blouse. She took a moment to steel herself and then reached up to knock on the metal screen door.

  Thick doubt swarmed around her head like a dense mass of buzzing bees. What in the world did she have to offer Jason Devlin? She'd never worked at a paying job in her whole life. Her pampered existence had prepared her for nothing except shopping for the perfect wardrobe. What if he found out she was running from—

  No, she told herself, don't go there. Forget about that. He won't find out. She couldn't let it happen.

  Another question bombarded her: why would this man choose her to care for his precious baby girl?

  A second wave of dread hit when she realized that he very well might have already found the perfect babysitter for his daughter. Her nurse friend had said she'd heard that the man was having trouble keeping a sitter. But if he'd hired one who was doing a fine job... if he was no longer looking...

  Don't panic, she told herself. The worst he could do was say no.

  The front door opened, and Katherine felt her eyes go wide. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't control her surprise. The bleary-eyed man who stood before her looked more than a little rumpled. The new growth of whiskers on his jaw was tinted a burnished copper, only a shade or two lighter than his russet-colored hair. His lips were pressed firmly together, and Katherine couldn't tell if he was angry or irritated or just plain in a bad mood. A tiny twinge of fear pinched her gut, but then she focused once again on his gaze.

  Looking beyond the bloodshot whites of his sky blue eyes, Katherine could clearly see that the man was tired, really stressed-out. He looked so haggard, in fact, that her heart went out to him. It looked to her as if he hadn't slept a wink last night.

  "Good morning," he said.

  Then his mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile—a smile, Katherine thought, that was sure to have been quite charming. But evidently he didn't have the energy to hold the expression for long, and she watched him sigh and lean heavily on the doorjamb.

  "Are you okay?" The question slipped from her lips before she was able to stop it.

  Now he did find the stamina to smile. And Katherine was right, his smile was charming. Actually it was more than that.

  "Yeah," he told her, "I'm okay." His smile broadened as he added softly, "Thanks for asking."

  A moment of silence followed, a moment during which Katherine actually found herself blushing and helplessly averting her gaze from him.

  Blushing? She, a woman who dined regularly with congressmen and senators, was blushing? Why, she'd shaken hands with not one, but two, U.S. presidents, and she couldn't believe she was finding it hard to look this man in the face. Why in the world would that be?

  Gathering her wits about her, Katherine tipped up her chin and looked him directly in the eye.

  "Are you Jason Devlin?"

  "I sure am," he answered. "What can I do for you?"

  There was something in his expression—something she couldn't quite put her finger on that caused her to look away again. Although she conquered the urge, she could feel her hands begin to tremble.

  This is silly, she silently scolded herself. But whatever was prodding her gaze to turn aside was now making her insides churn and her brain go spongy.

  "Well," she began, "I have a friend... a nurse who works at the Children's Hospital in Salisbury—" she paused to swallow, and she quickly ran her tongue across her lips before continuing. "Anyway, my nurse friend has a friend... and she lives here in Bayview. In fact, she's the wife of one of your police officers... well, not one of your officers. What I mean to say is... one of the officers you work with."

  Perspiration broke out across her forehead, even though it was a cool spring morning. This was going terribly. She'd excelled in her diction and public speaking courses. Her mother had thought the subjects were important ones, seeing as how Katherine was surely destined to be the wife of a politician. So why was she having such a difficult time clearly communicating her thoughts to this man?

  She noticed that Jason Devlin's brows were raised as he obviously waited for her to get to the point.

  "So, well... anyway," she stammered, "the friend of my friend—" Automatically her tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips. If Katherine had one wish in the whole world right now, it would be for a cool sip of water.

  "She told me that you might be in need of a babysitter... for your little girl."

  There, she thought, it was out. Finally.

  She blinked several times, her heart pounding against her rib cage as she awaited his response.

  He laughed; and her heart nearly stopped.

  A frown bit deeply into her brow. It wasn't a huge laugh, nor a loud one. Just a small, weary chuckle. But what did it mean? Why would he laugh at her?

  Her hopes plummeted. The tears that welled in her eyes took her completely by surprise. Turning away, she said, "If you already have someone—"

  "Wait. Hold on."

  A note of desperation strained his words as he called out to her, and she heard the screen door open with a squeak. The urgency she heard had been easily identified because she had felt it so keenly herself lately. Hope returned with a vengeance, and she turned back toward him, her eyes riveted to his.

  "Mr. Devlin," she said without thinking, "I really need a job. If you need someone to watch your daughter, then I hope you'll consider me for the position."

  He was smiling brightly now as he opened the door further and ushered her inside. Somewhere amidst the ups and downs of her thoughts, she recognized that Jason Devlin was a very handsome guy. It didn't matter that he looked bone tired. His smile seemed to alter his entire demeanor. He stood straighter, with his shoulders squared, and Katherine noticed for the first time what a big man he was.

  As she brushed past him into the house, she got the distinct impression he was a solid mass of muscle. But then she guessed he needed to be well developed, his wrinkled uniform outing him as a police officer. A weird sensation enveloped her once she was inside his home. Being near him made her feel somehow... safer.

  She didn't have time to analyze the odd musing before he spoke.

  "I didn't catch your name," he said.<
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  Oh, great! All those lessons in etiquette and diplomacy, and she'd broken the first, most important, rule of introduction. How could she have been so stupid?

  Her mind whirled, fast and furious.

  "Kath—" She stopped, panic tightening in her gut. She couldn't use her real name. Not if she wanted her whereabouts to remain unknown. He was sure to have heard of her father. In the span of one short heartbeat, she made her decision. "Katie," she blurted with a smile, and reached out to offer him her hand.

  His fingers were warm as they slid across her palm. He grasped her hand firmly and shook.

  "Katie...?"

  Her brain went into a sudden frenzy of hysteria as she gazed at his expectant face. He was waiting for her last name. Why hadn't she prepared for this? Why hadn't she come up with a name to use?

  A name filtered through her chaotic thoughts, and it was on her lips before she could think rationally.

  "Smyth," she said, automatically adding, "with a y."

  Chapter 2

  Jason closed the door and turned to take a good look at the angel fate had sent him.

  She was tall and slender. Her shoulder-length, softly curling blond hair was so light it seemed to glow in the morning sunlight that slanted through the large front window. Her eyes were blue. Not the light sky color of his own or Gina's, but a deep, jewel blue. A rich, dazzling color he would liken to the waters of nearby Pocomoke Sound on a calm, sunny day. Her large eyes were fringed with lashes that had been darkened with a touch of mascara—the only trace of makeup he could find on her beautiful, fine-boned face. Her nose was small and upturned at the end, her lower lip full and... sexy as hell.

  Coughing into his closed fist, Jason did his best to cover the gasp of surprise brought on by his last thought. He gave his head a small shake to keep himself focused. The woman had come seeking a job. He was quite certain she had no interest in being ogled by an exhausted cop.