Daddy Says, I Do!

by Stacy Connelly

  Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest. If Sam kissed her now, he’d have no doubt her desire for him was real. This attraction was about the two of them and had nothing to do with...Timmy.

  Thoughts of the little boy distracted her, a cold mental shower dousing her heated thoughts, and this time she murmured a two-word denial. “Not now.”

  Sam blinked, looking as stunned as if he’d sleepwalked into the ocean and couldn’t remember how he got there. Another wave caught him slightly off balance, and before she let herself stop and think, Kara reached out and gave him a hard shove. Her timing must have been just right, the water’s undertow and her push joined forces and toppled Sam into the water with a loud splash. He came up dripping wet, sputtering for air, and Kara took off running.

  She barely made it out of the water before he caught up with her. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled, tumbling them both to the ground. The gritty sand rubbed against her shoulder blades and the back of her legs, and Sam was a contradiction of cold and hot above her—the icy chill from his soaked clothes and the irresistible heat coming off the muscular body beneath.

  She longed to wrap herself around him, to cling to him like a strand of seaweed drifting in the water. Desire pooled in her belly, spreading out from there like ripples across a once-placid pond. She tried sucking in a calming breath, but her breasts brushed against his chest and any calm or placid thoughts were blown away by a storm of need. That hot-cold sensation seared her skin as the water soaking Sam’s shirt seeped through hers. Her nipples tightened in response, aching for his touch, but her own protest was written in his heated gaze.

  Not now.

  She squealed when he shook his head like a water-logged dog and sent a spray of water from his dripping hair into her face. She was still breathless and laughing when he pulled her to her feet, the sound echoed a few yards away by Timmy who excitedly called out, “It’s my turn now. Come chase me!”

  “I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear that sound,” Sam murmured.

  “It is good to hear him laugh.”

  He trailed a fingertip along her jaw, turning her face back to his. “Yeah, it is. But I wasn’t talking about Timmy.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.”

  Sam glanced over at Kara as he drove back toward town. Her clothes were still damp, but her hair had started to dry in soft waves that gently framed her face. His hands itched with the urge to reach out and run his fingers through the blond strands. Who would have thought her hair had a natural curl to it? And why did she go to so much effort to tame it?

  Probably, Sam thought, for the same reason that her softly spoken words sounded like a confession of doing something wrong. Already signs of Professor Starling were returning as Kara tried to smooth her hair, her clothes. He could practically see the tension tightening her body as she sat up straighter, chin up, shoulders back, posture perfect.

  It took all of Sam’s control not to turn the minivan around and go back to find the laughing girl on the beach. The one he’d held in his arms wanting to kiss her so badly he could taste it.

  “Sometimes it’s good to let go, forget about your worries and being an adult and just act like a kid again.”

  “I never really did things like that as a kid. Growing up was about going to school, working hard, getting grades that would mean acceptance into the right college.”

  The right kind of college. What would Kara think if she knew Sam hadn’t gone to any college, right or wrong? That he’d barely graduated high school?

  If you’d just study harder...

  Heather’s voice cut into his thoughts. His former high school girlfriend and almost-fiancée had focused on going to college, too. A dream that she—and, Sam had to admit, he—didn’t think would ever come true. Not because she didn’t have the grades, but because her family didn’t have the money. He’d heard the longing in her voice as she spoke of going away to school, but he hadn’t listened.

  Instead he’d focused on the life he pictured—graduating from high school, finding a small apartment to share, and beginning their lives together. But that was before the offers of scholarships Sam hadn’t known she’d applied for started coming in. Only then had he realized how different her picture of their future was compared to his.

  “And then once I was at college...”

  Her voice trailed off, and Sam glanced over. “More studying to get perfect grades?” he asked as he started to wonder about her childhood, about the pressure her parents had clearly placed on her. If she ever let herself stop thinking with that big brain and listened instead to the needs he knew existed within her beautiful body.

  She was silent for a long time before she finally answered his questions—the one he’d asked and the ones he hadn’t. “College wasn’t all about hard work. For one semester, books and studying were the last thing on my mind after I—”

  Met someone. Sam filled in the blanks. The vulnerability Kara tried so hard to hide told him she’d been hurt. He felt a surprising flicker of jealousy and a hotter flare of anger at the man responsible. He didn’t want to reopen old wounds, but something told him they’d never really healed. “What happened?”

  “I let loose. I had fun.” A mocking lilt underscored the words, but the sarcasm wasn’t thick enough to cover the pain and self-recrimination beneath. “It was—” Kara swallowed hard. “Things ended badly.”

  Sam longed to reach over and cover her white-knuckled fingers with his own. She was holding herself together so tightly, he worried the wrong move might cause her to shatter.

  He shifted in the seat, wishing he were more like Drew, who always seemed to know the right thing to say. Sam had always been more about pushing buttons and provoking responses than soothing emotions.

  “Not today,” he pointed out.

  “What?”

  “You had fun today, and it didn’t end badly.”

  She glanced over in surprise, her eyes widening a little as his words sank in. “You’re right.” Her lips rose in a teasing smile as she added, “Although the cynic in me wants to point out the day’s not over yet.”

  “Which only makes me want to kiss you now,” he retorted, gratified to watch the blush rise in her cheeks. “Just in case things go downhill from here.”

  * * *

  She was still blushing fifteen minutes later when Sam pulled into the hotel parking lot. Timmy had slept the entire ride, not waking when Sam opened the back of the minivan. His lashes, a shade darker than his pale blond hair, rested against chubby cheeks that were slightly pink from time in the sun.

  Sam figured the boy would wake up during the somewhat awkward transfer from the booster seat into his arms, but after a soft murmur, Timmy settled his head against Sam’s shoulder. The warm weight in his arms seemed to seep straight into his heart in a way that was unfamiliar but not uncomfortable.

  If anything, holding Timmy and inhaling the scent of surf, sand and little boy felt...right. Like the rush of love and protectiveness and joy when he and Timmy played together on the beach had felt right.

  He reached out to shut the minivan door, but Kara beat him to it. “I’ll get it,” she said. “You have your hands full.”

  The words were simple enough on the surface, but a world full of complications and complexities swirled beneath them. He did have his hands full. Trying to get to know his son. Trying to figure out how to best be a father to the boy. Trying to figure out the role Kara would play in both of their lives.

  He wanted her, Sam couldn’t deny that. But sex always complicated a relationship and wasn’t theirs complicated enough already? They both loved Timmy, they both wanted what was best for him, and yet they had completely different ideas of what that meant.

  “Um, Sam...”

  The tentative, female voice brok
e the moment, and Sam glanced over to see Nadine Gentry standing on the sidewalk a few yards away. Her red Rolly’s apron was draped over her thin forearm, and she carried a to-go box from the diner.

  “Hey, Nadine. How’s it going?”

  She gave a small shrug. “Okay. I, um, see that you’re busy, but I just wanted to let you know that me and Darrell aren’t together anymore.”

  “Can’t say I’m all that sorry to hear it.”

  “Me, neither. I went to bail him out, you know, but then I thought about him being in jail, sitting behind bars, and pretty much figured he belonged there.” Lifting her chin to a proud angle, she told him, “I talked to the sheriff about pressing charges.”

  “That’s great, Nadine. That took a lot of courage.”

  “I don’t think I could have done it if it wasn’t for you.”

  Sam felt the back of his neck start to heat at the other woman’s gratitude and the awareness of Kara silently watching the exchange. “I didn’t really do anything.”

  “You were willing to stand up for me and for my son,” Nadine said. “Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  “Just help keep an eye on my boy.” She gave a small smile as she nodded to Timmy still sound asleep against his shoulder. “That was a lot easier to do when Will was that age.”

  After saying good-night to Nadine, Sam shifted Timmy in his arms, half hoping the boy would wake up. Nadine’s gratitude had made him feel uncomfortable, but to see Kara gazing up at him like he was some kind of hero...

  The pride in her caramel eyes made him feel fifty feet tall, but when reality set in, when Kara saw him for who he really was, he was going to be in for one hell of a fall.

  * * *

  “Night, Timmy,” Sam whispered as he tucked the stuffed dinosaur tighter beneath Timmy’s arm.

  Standing in the doorway to Timmy’s room, Kara crossed her arms over her stomach. The little boy’s request for Sam to tuck him in had hit her hard. It was a change in the routine they’d established since Timmy had come to live with her.

  Sam was becoming a part of Timmy’s life. And a part of hers...

  As Sam rose and turned away from the bed, his gaze locked on hers. The quiet intimacy of the moment grabbed hold of Kara and refused to let go. Such a simple thing—watching a father tuck his son into bed. The ritual was repeated by families every night the world over. But she and Sam weren’t parents. Timmy was her family, and her focus needed to stay on him and not on Sam.

  Sam...who had crossed the room to stand right in front of her. Sam...who was gazing down at her with enough heat for her to wonder if he’d read her thoughts about couples putting a child to bed before slipping between the sheets together...

  “Wait!” Timmy called out, the urgency in his voice breaking the moment.

  “What is it, buddy?”

  A sliver of light shone into the bedroom, enough for Kara to see her nephew’s wide eyes as he sat up in the middle of the bed. “Timmy?” Sam prompted. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he whispered faintly as he drew his dinosaur closer. “‘Night.”

  Kara’s heart ached a little at the combination of fear and bravery she saw in his face as he huddled beneath the covers and she stepped closer. She touched the hand Sam had wrapped around the handle. “I’ve been leaving the door open so it’s not so dark.”

  Realization crossed his face as he glanced back at his son, and Kara bit her lip to keep from rushing to her nephew’s defense. Her own parents had been far too logical to bother with nightlights when she’d been a child, unconcerned by their daughter’s fear of the dark.

  Nothing exists in the dark that isn’t in the light.

  Nothing but a little girl’s fears and wild imagination....

  “No worries, Tim.” Reaching into his pocket, Sam pulled out his keys. “I bought a new flashlight not too long ago, and it came with this little light.” Unhooking the small flashlight, no bigger than a cigarette, he said, “I put it on my keys because sometimes when I leave the garage at night and it’s dark—”

  “You get scared?” The little boy scooted to the edge of the bed, his eyes wide with shared sympathy.

  Sam barely missed a beat. “Yeah, Tim, I get scared.” Handing the flashlight to his son, he added, “But when I turn this on, it’s not so scary anymore. Do you think it would help if you kept this with you tonight?”

  “Uh-huh,” Timmy’s curls bounced against his forehead as he nodded. He clicked the small light on. “But what about you?”

  “I’ve got the big light back at my shop, remember? I’ll be okay.”

  It took a few more minutes to get Timmy tucked back into bed, the glowing flashlight within his reach. By then, his eyelids were getting heavy, and Kara knew he’d fall asleep quickly.

  “Good night, Timmy.”

  “’Night, Aunt Kara. ’Night, Sam.”

  The little boy’s sleepy voice floated across the room, and Sam froze outside the door. His hesitation was barely noticeable, and Kara might have missed it if she hadn’t overheard his conversation with his father on the Pirellis’ front porch.

  “I know this hasn’t been easy—not telling Timmy who you are, but it’s only been a few days,” Kara murmured as she led the way into the suite’s small living space.

  “It’s been four years,” he countered. “Four years I’ve missed.”

  “That’s not your fault.”

  “Isn’t it? If I’d been a different kind of man, someone Marti trusted to be there for her, for Timmy, maybe she would have come to me. But Marti didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. She didn’t trust that I’d do the right thing.”

  “The right thing,” she echoed. Having met his family, Kara didn’t have any doubt about what the Pirellis thought was the right thing to do. But wrapping her head around the idea of a man with Sam’s reputation settling down wasn’t easy.

  As if reading her mind, he added, “I had a great childhood, growing up here surrounded by family. It’s the kind of childhood Timmy deserves, too, two parents living together, raising him together, under one roof. But the hell of it is, I’m not sure what I would have done if I had known Marti was pregnant. So maybe she was right not to trust me. Maybe she knew me better than I knew myself.”

  “Or maybe,” Kara countered softly, “she didn’t know you at all.”

  A wry smile twisted his handsome face. “Everything was fine when Marti thought I was some rich guy who could spend a couple hundred grand on cars. But once she found out I was nothing more than a simple mechanic, that was that.”

  His tone was matter-of-fact, but a trace of hurt lingered in his words. Sam Pirelli—vulnerable? It didn’t seem possible. Yet Kara couldn’t ignore the uncertainty she sensed in him, any more than she could stop the softening of her feelings for this man who was so much more than the simple mechanic he’d described.

  “You can’t blame yourself for a choice my sister never gave you the chance to make. It doesn’t matter what you might or might not have done five years ago. All that matters is what you’re doing now.” Reaching up, she brushed her fingers against his jaw. The late-day stubble sensitized her skin, chasing goose bumps up her arm.

  “You’re a good man, Sam.”

  His broad shoulders rose and fell on a heavy sigh. “What I want,” he admitted in a low murmur, “is to be a good father.”

  “What you did just now...that’s what being a good father is all about.”

  Sam shook his head. “That was nothing.”

  “Not to a little boy who’s afraid of the dark but doesn’t want to admit it, it isn’t.”

  She’d been the one to emphasize how smart Timmy was—a point that had been driven home so often during her own childhood. Intellect over
emotion, mind over body. But no matter how bright he was, he was still a little boy who needed a man in his life.

  Not just any man, but a father like Sam. A father who could encourage Timmy to run and play and live life outside of his head and the world of books and make believe. A father who could teach him how to stand up for himself but also to look out for the people around him. A father who could show by example how to grow from a good boy into a good man.

  And wasn’t that a twist of irony? Curtis’s unwillingness to take responsibility had broken her heart years ago. And now—now Sam’s willingness to do that very thing would tear Timmy from her arms, taking her best chance at being a mother with him.

  To her embarrassment, Kara felt the hot press of tears at the back of her throat, and she tried to turn away before Sam could notice. But it was almost as if he didn’t need to see her tears to know how she was feeling. His fingers curved around her shoulder and he turned her into his arms.

  His T-shirt was slightly rough from the salt water, and he smelled of surf and sand and sunshine. The dunk he’d taken in the ocean had brought out the curl in his dark blond hair, making him look even more boyishly appealing. But the strength of the body pressed to hers was all man.

  She whispered his name a moment before his lips claimed hers. She’d tried to convince herself their first kiss couldn’t have been as good as she remembered, couldn’t have been as powerful, couldn’t have made her feel so much need or so needed. But this was all that and more, because behind this kiss was everything she’d learned about Sam since that first kiss. About his kindness, his patience, his vulnerability...

  “Sam, I don’t—I shouldn’t do this.” She whispered the words even as her fingers tightened in his sun-dried hair.

  “Shouldn’t?”

  Kara shivered as he spoke the word against the fragile skin of her throat. “I don’t want you to think I’m using you.”