“Somehow, it wasn’t. Maybe because she had a little boy or maybe because he was Marti’s child. I’m not sure. But I loved Timmy from the start. He was always his own person and never a substitute for Ella. Marti getting pregnant gave me the chance to be an aunt, and it’s been a wonderful experience. One that helped me heal and took away some of the pain of losing my daughter. I was...content.”
“But then Marti died.”
“Yes. I never would have wished for that. Ever. But once she was gone, and Timmy needed someone, needed me, those old dreams of motherhood came back. I wanted to protect him, but I also wanted to protect myself.” She sighed and turned to him. “I’m sorry, Sam. For not being up front with you right away and—”
“It’s okay, Kara. I understand. Better now that you’ve told me about Ella, but even before, I knew you were looking out for Timmy. I can’t blame you for that. It’s my fault Marti didn’t trust me enough to tell me about Timmy.”
“That’s not true,” Kara argued, ready to tell him the reality she’d had to face over the last few days. Despite his fun-loving attitude, Sam was very much a man a woman could trust. She knew that, and her sister must have known it, as well. “Marti’s decision wasn’t about you. Or even about Timmy. It was all about her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything you said about Timmy deserving a childhood with two parents living together, raising him together, under one roof, I think that’s the very reason Marti didn’t tell you.”
“You mean she wanted to be a single mom?”
Guilt weighed against her chest, a feeling of disloyalty to her sister’s memory pressing hard, but Kara couldn’t let Sam keep thinking he was to blame. “I don’t know if she wanted to be a single mom, but she definitely wanted to stay single. Her decision had nothing to do with you. None of this has been easy on you, and you’ve been so great. So patient and understanding with Timmy.” Kara gave a small laugh. “And with me.”
“Don’t make me into too much of a saint,” he warned gruffly as he leaned back against the couch cushions and pulled her into his arms.
Resting her head against his chest, Kara could hear the strong, steady beat of his heart. He didn’t need to worry. She didn’t want a saint. She just wanted Sam.
* * *
Sam hadn’t experienced many sleepless nights in his life, at least not ones that didn’t include partying and having a good time. But as enough light started seeping into the living room for him to clearly see the rafters he’d been staring at for the past few hours, he realized he hadn’t slept for more than twenty minutes at a shot. He didn’t know how many times he’d jerked awake in a panic, certain the boy—or the woman—sleeping beneath his roof needed him.
He knew Kara hadn’t expected to spend the night, but once she fell asleep in his arms, he hadn’t had the heart to wake her. The emotional evening had left traces behind—circles beneath her eyes and faint lines on her forehead. Sam wasn’t sure how long he held her. Long enough, he supposed, that he never wanted to let her go. Once he realized she wasn’t going to wake up, he’d carefully carried her into his bedroom—only because she’d be more comfortable there and not because he wanted the chance to see her in his bed.
After covering her with a blanket and taking a minute to watch her settle beneath the covers as easily as she’d settled into his heart, he’d gone to check on Timmy. He’d smiled as he made out the sleeping form of his son—arms and legs sprawled out in all directions, hogging the bed with Sam’s old stuffed bear dangling from one hand over the edge of the mattress.
Sam had been told on more than one occasion that he hogged the bed. It had made for a no-harm, no-foul excuse as to why he preferred to sleep alone. But then again, he’d had more than a few go-to excuses over the years. Ways to get out of trouble with some fast words and easy smile.
He didn’t need his father or his brothers to tell him there was no easy out this time. One way or the other, he was in for the long haul.
Pushing off the couch, Sam took a minute to stretch out the kinks in his neck and back before heading down the hall and quietly opening his bedroom door. He sucked in a deep breath, arrested by the sight of Kara still asleep. She lay curled on her side facing him, her hands tucked beneath her cheek, her blond hair spread out across the navy pillow. Her lips parted on a soft sigh as her chest rose and fell, and he caught himself before he could echo the sound as he took in the delicate curves outlined by the thin sheets. He could have watched her for hours, but before that unsettling thought had time to take hold, he heard a sound from the other bedroom.
Not the gut-wrenching cries he’d heard the other night, but the soft call of his son’s voice. “Sam?”
“Hey, Timmy,” he said as he peered inside the room. “Everything okay?”
The little boy’s hair was tousled from sleep, popping up in the same cowlicks and curls Sam had always hated as a kid. His green eyes were wide and curious as he looked around the room, but Sam gave a relieved sigh when he didn’t see any tears. “I was sleeping, but then I woke up.”
“Yeah, you spent the night, remember? Your Aunt Kara did, too.”
“We played games and looked at the models when you were gone.”
“You just looked at ’em, huh?” Sam asked, seeing that the models were still in their wrapped boxes and feeling a bit of disappointment. He’d really thought that with Timmy’s love of puzzles he might be as into putting the cars together as he’d been as a kid. That it might be something they’d have in common.
“Uh-huh. Aunt Kara wanted to put them together, but that’s our job ’cause we’re mechanics.”
“So you wanted to wait for me?”
Timmy nodded. “I tried to stay awake for you to come home, but you were gone a long time.”
“My sister wasn’t feeling good, so I wanted to go see her. But I’m sorry I wasn’t here to play with you last night,” he said as he sat down on the bed beside his son.
“That’s okay. Aunt Kara played with me but—”
“But what?”
“I think she was sad.”
Sam didn’t doubt Kara had smiled for her nephew and tried her hardest to keep her emotions from showing through, but he wasn’t surprised Timmy had sensed the sorrow she’d been trying to hide. “We all have days when we just feel sad.”
“Uh-huh,” the boy agreed, resting his head against Sam’s side. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to put his arm around his son’s shoulders and hold him close. “But when you’re here, that makes her happy.”
“You think so?”
“Like at the beach... Aunt Kara was laughing when you tackled her, but she didn’t even have the football,” he added with disgust filling his voice.
Sam couldn’t help grinning. His son—the gridiron expert. “That was funny, wasn’t it?”
Sam knew fatherhood wasn’t always going to be a day at the beach, but wasn’t there something to be said for having fun together, for knowing how to make his son happy? To make the woman he—loved?—happy...
A hell of a lot, he decided, certainty pouring through his veins as he thought about spending the rest of his life doing just that. And when times were tough, he still wanted to be there, the way Jake had been at Sophia’s side last night. The way Sam wished he could have been at Kara’s side when Ella was born all those years ago.
He couldn’t change the past, but he definitely wanted Kara to be part of his future.
Hopping off the bed, Timmy checked out the shelf across the room. “What’s this?” he asked, pulling out a baseball glove so old and worn that some of the laces were broken and the leather was cracked in places.
“That’s a baseball glove my dad used when he was a kid. He gave it to me when I was a little boy.” Timmy stuck his right hand inside, the glove comically large on the end of his arm
. Moving the glove to the correct hand, Sam added, “Now I’d like to give it to you.”
“To me?” Timmy’s eyes widened, and Sam was taken back to the evening before when Timmy had asked if he had a little boy.
God, it had been so hard not to blurt out the truth then and there. But Timmy wasn’t ready for that...or was he? Sam saw a longing in his son’s eyes that had nothing to do with a raggedy glove. Going with his gut—or maybe it was with his heart—he said, “Do you remember when you asked if I had a little boy?” At Timmy’s nod, he added, “The truth is, I’d really like you to be my little boy.”
Timmy frowned, and Sam could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He was smart, no question about that, but he was still only four years old. Was Sam pushing too hard, too fast? Remembering the boy’s reaction following the nightmare, he braced for another rejection.
“You mean—you’d be my daddy?”
“Yeah, if that’s okay with you.”
Unfiltered astonishment lit Timmy’s features and grabbed hold of Sam’s heart. “I’ve never had a daddy before.” His face fell a little, and Sam wondered if Timmy was thinking of his mother. But then hope brightened his gaze again. “If you’re gonna be my dad, maybe—maybe Aunt Kara can be my mom, and we can all be a family!”
Chapter Thirteen
Kara’s eyelids fluttered open as she jerked awake. She blinked against the bright light streaming though the room, her eyes feeling grainy and dry. She pushed into a sitting position, startled to realize she was in Sam’s king-sized bed...alone. Had he carried her there? It was the only explanation, and yet the last thing she remembered was Sam pulling her into his arms after she told him about Ella.
It had been so long since she’d told anyone the whole story....
Reaching up, she touched the locket holding her daughter’s picture, but the pain of reopening old wounds wasn’t as sharp as usual.
After a quick trip to the hall to the bathroom where she did her best to smooth her hair and wash away the dark smudges that were all that remained of her mascara, she followed the sound of voices and stopped just outside the kitchen doorway.
“Oh, nice shot!” Sam cheered after his son tossed a small O-shaped piece of cereal across the table and into his mouth. Sam returned the favor only to have the cereal bounce off a giggling Timmy’s chin and onto the floor.
“You missed.”
Sam laughed. “Okay, let’s try again.”
This shot, too, was off the mark, hitting the little boy in the forehead and sending him sprawling back in his chair like he’d been seriously wounded. “Missed again!”
“I’m starting to think you’re missing the point of actually catching the cereal,” Sam argued. Even with his back to her, Kara could hear the smile in his voice, the relaxed way he was talking to the little boy.
“You know, we are going to have some mess to clean up before your aunt wakes up.”
“If we had a dog, the floor’d already be clean.”
“A dog, huh?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you have a dog back in San Diego?”
“No. Mommy said you can’t have a dog in an apartment ’cause it needs a yard to play and poop in.”
Sam choked back a laugh. “Well, that’s true enough, I suppose. But you know what? My brother Nick’s girlfriend, Darcy, has a dog that had puppies not too long ago. She and Nick want to find good homes for them.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He cleared his throat. “Of course that would mean we’d need to find a house with a yard big enough for a doghouse and maybe a tree house for you. Uncle Drew builds houses for a living and he’s shown me a few things about building.”
“Could I help, too?”
“Would you like that? To help me build a doghouse for the puppy and a tree house for you?”
A home for the two of them... Kara knew that was what Sam was really trying to build.
What was it that Olivia had said? That Timmy didn’t have to choose between her and Sam? That he could love them both? That might be true, but he couldn’t live with them both.
If she moved to Clearville, she could see Timmy whenever she wanted. She didn’t doubt for a moment that Sam would let her be a part of the boy’s life. But even then, it would only be a small part. She’d be back to fulfilling her role as his aunt, the only role she’d known when Marti was alive.
But things had changed since her sister’s death. Kara would never think of taking her sister’s place in Timmy’s life, but in her heart—oh, in her heart she’d already come to think of him as her son. As the boy she would raise. She wanted to be there when he woke up and tuck him into bed at night.
She couldn’t do that as his aunt.
As his aunt, she’d wake up alone, go to bed alone, sleep alone...
“Hey, you’re awake.”
She jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice as he caught sight of her lurking in the doorway. His concerned gaze searched hers as he stepped close enough for her to feel the heat from his body. “How are you feeling? Did you sleep okay?”
Kara nodded, feeling a slight kink in her neck. “I must have since I fell asleep on the couch but woke up in your bed.”
Sam’s grin was unrepentant as he slid his hands beneath her hair. “I couldn’t leave you on the couch. It’s nowhere near as comfortable as stretching out on a bed.”
Had his voice lowered on that last word or was it only her imagination, fueled by the feeling of his thumbs pressing into her flesh, that had her thinking of the two of them lying on a mattress with him touching more than the back of her neck? “I, um—oh!”
He touched on a particularly sensitive spot, and she held back a moan as she turned to putty in his hands.
“How does that feel?”
Amazing...arousing...addicting...and that was only the beginning of the alphabet. She could have gone through the rest of the letters, describing how his touch made her feel in glorious detail. “Sam...”
“Hey, Aunt Kara!” Timmy called out. “Me and Sam— Me and Dad had cereal for breakfast.”
Kara sucked in a breath as the little boy called Sam “Dad.” Sam slid his hands from her neck to her shoulders as if bracing her for the emotional blow she’d just taken. “You told him,” she whispered around the ache in her throat.
“We had a bit of a breakthrough,” he explained, his voice hoarse with his own emotions. “One I’d like to discuss with you.”
The intensity in his expression was underscored by a hint of uncertainty, but she already knew what he was going to say. Sam was ready for the two of them to move forward with their lives here in Clearville. A life that included a home with a yard, a tree house and a dog, but didn’t include her.
Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked furiously as Sam turned away to talk to his son. “Hey, Tim, why don’t you go get started on that first model? Be careful when you open the box. There’s gonna be a lot of little pieces to put together.”
Timmy pushed away from the table with an excited cry. He followed Sam’s reminder to put his dishes in the sink, where they landed with a loud clatter, before he headed down the hall to his room.
“You told him,” she repeated, trying to keep the accusation from her tone and not entirely sure she’d succeeded.
Sam shook his head. “Not exactly.”
“He’s calling you ‘Dad.’”
“Yeah.” Sam ducked his head as if trying to hide how much hearing his son call him that meant to him. After explaining the conversation the two of them had had in the bedroom, he added, “I’m not sure if Timmy really understands that I am his father or if he’s just getting a kick out of calling me that.”
“Whether he understands or not isn’t really important, is it? What matters is that he wants you to be his dad.
”
“He wants more than that, Kara.” He slid his palms down her arms and linked their fingers together. He squeezed her hand, his touch thawing the numbness that had seeped through her. “He wants you to be a part of his life, too.”
A part...right. The beloved aunt who would come and visit on vacations and holidays.
“I want more than that, Sam,” she interrupted.
“More?” Surprise and something else flickered in his eyes, but Kara couldn’t stop to wonder about it. Couldn’t stop to think or she’d lose her nerve.
“After we went to the beach, Timmy said it was like having a ‘real’ family—with a daddy, a mommy and a little boy.”
“Kara—”
“No, just let me say this, please.” Her emotions were bouncing around inside her like the balls in some kind of out-of-control lottery drawing, but she shoved them aside. She had to be calm about this, reasonable, to convince Sam that this idea—as crazy and illogical as it was—made sense.
“You told me once that you wished Timmy could have a childhood like your own, with two parents raising him under one roof. He can still have that childhood. We can give that to him, Sam. I know you’re glad he’s accepted you as his father, but Timmy was raised by a single mom. He’s used to having a woman in his life. And then there’s school.”
Kara knew she was babbling but couldn’t make the words stop as she spelled out how she could keep up the type of program Timmy’s preschool had offered. “I know I’m not his mother, Sam, but I love him. I love him so much and—”
I love you. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but they froze there as twelve years disappeared and suddenly she was eighteen again—pregnant, afraid and desperately in love. She’d poured her heart out to Curtis, telling him about the baby, about the life she saw for the three of them, about the future they could have. She’d told him how much she loved him and practically begged him to say the words in return. But he hadn’t. He’d just stared at her in silence.... Exactly as Sam was doing now, she thought, as she caught sight of the look on his face. She didn’t think he would look more stunned if she told him she was taking Timmy to live on the moon.
Daddy Says, I Do! Page 16
