Daddy Says, I Do!

by Stacy Connelly

  Or maybe it was simply the resemblance the boy had to his mother, standing still and silent a few feet away, her arms crossed at her waist. The defensiveness and vulnerability of her stance caught hold of something inside him. An unfamiliar feeling that made him want to shoulder whatever burden she was carrying, break down the carefully constructed walls around her, and let her know everything was going to be okay....

  Shoving the crazy thought aside, Sam focused on the one thing he could actually do for the woman and went in search of her spare tire.

  * * *

  Tension had spun her nerves into glass in that brief moment when Sam Pirelli stared at her nephew, and Kara Starling waited for the words that would shatter the last of her composure into a thousand sharp pieces.

  Cute kid.

  Her breath escaped in a whoosh of sound hidden by the breeze blowing through the pines. Relief left her nearly weak-kneed, and she gave hesitant glance in the mechanic’s direction. A soft whistling came from the back of the vehicle as he worked on getting the spare from beneath the van’s undercarriage. He didn’t seem interested in anything other than changing the tire.

  He’d been interested in something more a minute ago, her conscience taunted.

  She hadn’t missed the spark of attraction that rocked them both when his hand met hers. Sam Pirelli was a gorgeous guy, but then, she’d expected him to be. Dark blond hair peeked out beneath a backward baseball cap that had seen better days. The same could be said for the washed-out gray T-shirt stretched across his wide chest and the threadbare jeans. But Kara was struck by the thought that even a designer suit would fade a little when a woman was caught by the spark in his green eyes and the bright flash of his smile.

  Sam Pirelli wasn’t the kind of man who tried to impress women. He was impressive without even trying. And his charmer’s grin told her he knew it.

  And as much as she longed to, Kara couldn’t pretend she’d been unaffected by the brush of his warm, rough skin against hers. With anyone else, that magnetic pull of attraction would have been inconvenient. With this man it stirred up feelings of guilt on too many levels to count and whipped already whirling protective instincts into a frenzy.

  This wasn’t how she’d expected her first meeting with Sam Pirelli to go. But then nothing had gone as Kara expected in the month since her sister had been killed in a plane crash.

  Opening the side door to the minivan, she kept her smile in place when Timmy scrambled back into the booster chair. He dragged his favorite stuffed animal, a slightly cross-eyed green dinosaur, into his lap and hugged it tightly. The boy had always been smart for his age, but also shy and quiet. He’d withdrawn even more since his mother’s death, and despite Kara’s best attempts she’d been unable to draw him out. Her heart ached for the pain he was feeling and at her own inability to make that pain go away.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” she said softly.

  After they’d stopped for lunch at a small gas station restaurant along the highway, the little boy had fallen asleep. She’d hoped he would rest for the final leg of their journey, but this unexpected stop had shot that plan out of the water.

  Along with her other plan of how to best handle Sam Pirelli.

  Awareness of the man working at the back of the van fluttered through her, but Kara pushed it aside and focused on her nephew. When Timmy stayed silent, staring at his shoes over the dinosaur’s furry head, she said, “We’re almost to Clearville now. Why don’t you come on out and walk around for a bit?”

  “Then can we go home?” he asked, a heartbreaking amount of hope filling his voice.

  Did he think going home would mean returning to the small apartment he’d shared with his mother? That going home would mean finding Marti waiting for him?

  Kara took a shallow breath, aware that anything deeper than the slight, tentative motion would cause more pain to her bruised and broken heart. She’d done her best to explain that his mother was in heaven now, where she would always watch over him. But Kara didn’t know how much the four-year-old boy understood.

  Some days, she still didn’t understand her sister’s death. Not when Marti had been the most alive person Kara had ever known. Her little sister had never done anything half measure. She embraced life and everything in it and rushed into every adventure with a live for the day verve Kara had long admired...and envied. But in the end, that never-consider-tomorrow attitude was partly responsible for her sister’s death.

  Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back quickly. Timmy was all that mattered now, and Kara was determined to do right by him and by her sister. Even if it meant taking this trip to Clearville and proving to herself that life in this small northern California town was not in Timmy’s future.

  Though she longed to say they’d be back home in no time, she refused to make promises she might not be able to keep. As much as she loved her sister, Kara knew the young boy had heard his fair share of empty words and promises of tomorrows that had never come.

  And now never would.

  His mother wasn’t going to be there for any of the milestones of his life, or the simple everyday moments so easy to take for granted. The fresh pain of the loss of her sister combined with an old ache Kara refused to acknowledge.

  “We’re going to stay for a little while,” she finally told her nephew.

  He heaved a huge sigh. “Okay.” And then with the attention span of a typical four-year-old, he scrambled around onto his knees and gazed out the back window. “What’s that man doing to our car?”

  That man. Sam Pirelli was a total stranger to Timmy. If she kept quiet, he would stay that way. Indecision and guilt tied her stomach into knots. In the month since the reading of Marti’s will, Kara had done her best to ignore the feeling, but it was back. Stronger than ever, she thought as Sam caught her watching and flashed her a wink.

  “His name is Sam Pirelli,” she heard herself say softly before she could talk herself out of it. “He’s a mechanic, and he’s changing out a flat tire for us. Isn’t that nice?”

  Timmy shrugged, lacking the interest in cars and trucks that most little boys possessed. Reaching out, she smoothed the cowlick stuck up at the top of his head, her fingers sifting through his curls.

  Would the hair hidden by Sam Pirelli’s baseball cap be as soft?

  The wayward thought caught her off guard, and she snatched her hand back as if she’d actually touched Sam’s hair. “Why don’t we go take a look?”

  Timmy climbed from the minivan, clinging tightly to the stuffed dinosaur and to Kara’s hand as he looked around. “I don’t like it here. It’s dark.”

  “Dark?”

  “Uh-huh,” he said as he eyed the trees lining the edge of the highway. The thick, dense pines, a far cry from the light, airy palms in San Diego, cast long, jagged shadows and provided a formidable barrier beyond the road. “I think there’s monsters.”

  “Timmy.” Kara bit her tongue before she could provide the logical argument that there were no such thing. Monsters might not be real, but the little boy’s fears were, and that wasn’t something she could “reason” out of him, no matter what her parents thought.

  You’re only encouraging his fears by pandering to them, her father had argued.

  It never failed to amaze Kara how Marcus Starling, a brilliant surgeon, could know everything there was to know about the heart and yet be so clueless about his grandson’s feelings.

  Honestly, though, she didn’t know why she’d been surprised. Her father had never made much of an attempt to understand his daughters either. But his own feelings when it came to this trip had been more than clear.

  The fall semester starts in two weeks. You have a responsibility to the college and your students.

  Fortunately, her boss at the small private college where Kara taught had been more understanding, lining up part-time t
eachers to cover her classes in case she needed more time off. Explaining that to her father had been as useless as trying to explain Timmy’s fear of monsters.

  Have you considered how this leave of absence might affect your chances of being named chair of the department?

  Kara already regretted telling her father about the upcoming vacancy. The current chair of the English department was stepping down the next year, and she’d been both surprised and pleased that she was one of the professors under consideration to replace him. But the position was anything but a sure thing and if the faculty chose another teacher...well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d disappointed her father.

  Giving a resigned sigh, Kara gave her nephew’s hand a reassuring squeeze. We all have our monsters, don’t we, Timmy?

  Before she could come up with a response to soothe her nephew’s fears, the off-key whistling from the back of the van was followed by a soft thud. Kara turned to watch Sam Pirelli lift the spare. The faded cotton stretched across his wide shoulders, and the bulge of his muscular thighs tested the worn seams of his jeans as he crouched down to maneuver the tire into place.

  Kara swallowed, her mouth drier than the mild temperature could account for.

  “Wow, he’s superstrong.”

  The whistling stopped for a moment at Timmy’s awe-filled comment, only to start up again a little louder, and if possible, a little cockier. The flush of embarrassment on her face burned hotter when Sam glanced over his shoulder with a knowing grin. It was almost as if he’d overheard her raving about his super strength, which was ridiculous because she certainly wasn’t impressed with his muscular arms or chest or—

  Oh, who was she kidding? She was just as impressed as her nephew, if for very different reasons. She could only hope she was slightly better at hiding it.

  “Okay, you’re good to go. You’ll want to replace the spare before you head home...” His voice trailed off as if expecting her to fill in where she was from, but that, like her last name, was information Kara wasn’t willing to give.

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Here.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “Stop by the shop and I’ll set you up.”

  “Thank you. What do I owe you?”

  He shook his head before she could finish the question. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Kara frowned. She didn’t like being indebted to anyone, and she was especially uneasy about owing Sam Pirelli. Maybe because, deep down, she knew what she owed him most of all was the truth. Shoving the thought aside, she said, “I owe you for your time.”

  “Okay, then.” The glint in his eyes should have warned her what was coming, but she was still caught off guard when he announced, “Dinner.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said you wanted to repay me, so I’m thinking dinner. Nothing too fancy. It was just a tire, not like replacing the carburetor or anything.”

  His smile threatened to shake something loose inside her. What would it be like to have those teasing lips flirting with hers? Her heart skipped a beat, but she’d long ago learned the dangers of dancing to that foolish rhythm. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Hey, it was your idea in the first place. You’re the one who insisted on paying.”

  “And you always take sandwiches over cold hard cash?”

  “I was thinking maybe steak and potatoes, but if you’re craving sandwiches—”

  Throwing her hands out to her sides, Kara protested, “I did not say I was craving sandwiches!”

  Sam grinned again, stopping any further protest as she realized he wasn’t looking at her. Glancing down, she saw Timmy watching the exchange with wide-eyed interest. He looked slightly puzzled, as if wondering what his normally calm, cool and collected aunt was doing standing on the side of the road, arguing with the most infuriating man.

  It was a question she had to ask herself, and she felt her face heat as she looked back at Sam. Seeming to realize he’d pushed as far as he should, he flicked the edge of the business card she still held. “Don’t forget to get that tire replaced.”

  He turned to walk back to his beat-up-looking car, and Kara knew she should let it go. Just let him walk away. But the words escaped before she could stop them and she called out, “I’m going to pay for the new tire.”

  He turned with his hand braced on the driver’s side door. “No problem. I’m all for dessert, too. You know where to find me when you decide what you’re hungry for.”

  The ridiculous, arrogant parting line was still ringing in her ears when Sam’s car sped off with a squeal of tires and cloud of dust. What she was hungry for...

  Kara snorted in response as she helped Timmy back into his booster seat. When it came to men like Sam Pirelli, she was on a permanent diet!

  “What’d you say, Aunt Kara?”

  “Nothing, sweetie.” Looking up from snapping the belt at his waist, her heart stuttered as she met the little boy’s gaze. She swallowed as recognition hit hard, and an unwanted thought drifted through her mind for the first time.

  He has his daddy’s eyes.

  Chapter Two

  As Sam walked into his garage later that morning, he spotted a familiar pair of worn work boots and skinny, jeans-clad legs sticking out from beneath a navy sedan. Even though Will Gentry had been working for him since the beginning of summer, Sam still wasn’t one hundred percent accustomed to someone else in his shop.

  He had long prided himself on taking care of his customer’s cars as if they were his own—doing all the maintenance and repairs, and not letting anyone else lend a hand. Thanks to that work ethic, he was busier than he could handle, to the point of turning work away. Hiring an employee had been a big step, but it was only the beginning of plans that included the Corvette he’d parked out front.

  A grin tugged at his lips when he thought about Kara’s obvious lack of appreciation for the work he’d done on the car. Obviously she wasn’t easily impressed. What would it take, he wondered, to really wow a woman like her?

  Anticipation fueled the blood in his veins even though he wasn’t sure what to make of his undeniable interest. He didn’t usually go for serious types. Or single mothers, he reminded himself. Knowing Kara had a son should have been enough to keep his mind off the woman, beautiful or not. But she was only visiting. So, it wasn’t as if he was expecting anything permanent. Just a chance to get to know the lady, short-term, until she was ready to move on.

  “How’s it going, Will?” Sam asked, turning his attention back to his young assistant. One good thing about having an employee was having someone to talk to. With Will, that meant having someone who listened, but rarely responded beyond a mumbled word or two.

  The grunted response from under the sedan was less verbose than usual, but Sam knew the simple oil change wasn’t enough to give Will any trouble. “Come on out for a minute, will ya?”

  Moving in slow motion, Will’s scuffed heels inched along the concrete, revealing more of his threadbare jeans, then a ratty yellow T-shirt over a nearly skin-and-bones torso, until finally Sam got a glimpse of the kid’s face—and the black eye he’d been reluctant to reveal.

  Sam frowned as the kid tucked his legs up beneath him. “What happened, Will?” he demanded even though the fist-shaped bruising around the boy’s swollen eye told the story. “Or should I say who?”

  Smart, skinny and shy, Will could easily be the target of bullies, and Sam felt a protective instinct to step in and defend the kid. By the time he was Will’s age, he’d filled out enough that his size alone silenced the insults that had done more damage than any physical fight.

  “It was my fault,” Will mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze. “I started it.”

  “Oh, really,” Sam said, deadpan. Will was a good kid. Not the kind to get int
o trouble or cause fights.

  “Look, if some kid’s been bullying you, you can tell me.”

  Will kept his head down, as if Sam might forget about the black eye if he didn’t look him in the face. “It’s not some kid. It’s— Something I can handle.”

  “If you want, I can show you some ways to defend yourself.”

  “Yeah, right.” Will paused. “The guy’s like twice my size.”

  “Self-defense isn’t about being bigger than your opponent, you know.”

  Will snorted as he stood and glanced between Sam’s six-foot-three-inch, two-hundred-pound frame and his own five-seven and buck-twenty-five. “Easy for you to say.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t always this size, and growing up I had two older brothers who used to gang up on me. It felt like they’d always be bigger and stronger and that no matter how much I grew, I’d never catch up.”

  Sometimes it still felt that way. As if his brothers’ successes and accomplishments were somehow greater than his own.

  It wasn’t that he was jealous of his brothers. He was proud of them. And, okay, so Nick and Drew had gone to college—Nick to be a veterinarian and Drew to study architecture before he decided he preferred building to designing—while Sam had struggled far more than he’d let on to just finish high school.

  His brothers had been the good students, and he’d been the troublemaker, the class clown. All his life he’d heard the same comments from his teachers, his parents, even his high school girlfriend. If you’d just try harder...

  The hell of it was, he had tried. He could remember being ten or eleven years old and sweating bullets as he struggled to finish a test or a project or a reading assignment. But he’d been unable to focus, to concentrate. His mind would drift away. Soon his gaze would follow and before long he’d have to escape. To be outside where he could run and play and forget.