Falling for the Single Dad

by Lisa Carter

  He stirred the pasta and stood watch. Caroline seemed intent, truly interested in what his child shared with her.

  Izzie went from picture to picture hanging on the wall above the sofa. The Izzie Hall of Fame, he often joked.

  “This is me when I was three at my birthday party. This is me when I started kindergarten.” She smiled. “I was so cute then, wasn’t I, Daddy?”

  Caroline answered before he could. “You still are, Ladybug.” She settled a quick kiss on the top of his daughter’s head.

  His heart thumped in his chest. Despite what Seth Duer said, despite what Caroline said about herself, she was very, very good with his child.

  Izzie slipped her arm around Caroline’s waist. “This is me when I lost my first tooth…”

  For a moment, his eyes blurred. His motherless daughter was soaking up Caroline’s attention and affection like the sand soaked in the rays of the sun. Uncomfortable with the emotions, he angled himself toward the oven to check the bread.

  “Doesn’t look like hot dogs. It’s spaghetti night.”

  He straightened to find Izzie perched on the stool, her elbows planted on the counter. Caroline eased into the adjacent chair. “What an astute observation.” He tweaked Izzie’s nose.

  Izzie fluttered her lashes at him. “It had to be spaghetti or hot dogs.”

  Caroline placed her chin in her cupped hand. “Why’s that?”

  “Daddy’s not a good cook.”

  He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Izzie beat him to the punch. “Spaghetti. Hot dogs. Or we go out.” Izzie made a show of exasperation. “We eat out a lot. And I mean a lot…”

  “Hey.” He threw the dish towel slung over his shoulder at Izzie.

  Izzie grinned and batted it away.

  Caroline laughed. “It smells delicious. Are you sure I can’t help you do something?”

  “Daddy needs all the help he can get.”

  He started around the island and growled. Shrieking, Izzie jumped off the stool. She ducked behind Caroline’s chair. “Save me, Turtle Lady.”

  Caroline’s eyes sparkled. “With my life, Ladybug.”

  He shook his head. “Didn’t you say something about a fashion show before dinner, Miss Food Critic?”

  Izzie giggled and danced out of his reach. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, and hurried away.

  When Weston returned to the small kitchen, he found Caroline stirring the hamburger browning in the skillet. “It was about to burn.”

  He sighed. “Thanks. I get distracted.”

  “I can see why.” Caroline smiled and his knees almost buckled. “Izzie’s a wonderful distraction.”

  She wasn’t the only one.

  Caroline gathered the plates and napkins. “I’ll set the table for you.”

  He tried for a nonchalance he didn’t feel. Not with her so close and comfortable in his home. As if she belonged. As if she’d always belonged here with him and Izzie.

  And he suddenly knew that no matter what anyone else said, no matter the leftover fears he carried from Jessica—what he wanted most right now was to get to know this beautiful and intelligent woman.

  Not just for Izzie’s sake, but for himself, too.

  *

  Caroline couldn’t stop a surge of pride when Izzie emerged in the dress and shoes they’d picked out together.

  Izzie flung her arms wide. “Ta-da!”

  Caroline’s gaze cut to Weston. A mixture of emotions flitted across his face.

  “Aren’t I beautiful, Daddy?”

  He came out from behind the kitchen island. “The most beautiful nine-year-old girl I’ve ever seen.”

  Izzie smoothed the ivory linen dress with the black lace princess collar and grinned. “Do I remind you of my mama?”

  He flinched.

  At the awkward beat of silence, Izzie touched a tentative hand to the silk headband they’d found to accessorize the outfit. “Daddy?” Her voice quivered, uncertain.

  Blue fire blazed from his eyes with an emotion Caroline couldn’t define. Raw pain. And anger?

  Caroline rose from the stool, her hand outstretched as if to somehow protect Izzie. From what, she wasn’t sure. Weston Clark would no more harm his daughter than she would. Yet something she’d glimpsed in his gaze—in his memories?—she suddenly feared might harm Izzie. “Weston…”

  He jerked and seemed to come back to the man she knew—barely knew, she admitted. A man devoted to his child. A man—she swallowed—she very much wanted to get to know better.

  Weston took Izzie’s hand. “A Kiptohanock princess.” He twirled her under his arm.

  Izzie laughed, and Caroline relaxed.

  “A princess with her own tower,” Caroline teased. “A lighthouse tower I can’t wait to see.”

  “Dinner’s almost ready.” He gave Izzie a brief hug. “Better change, Izz. Wouldn’t want you to get sauce on your pretty party dress.” He nudged her toward the hallway.

  “Aye-aye, Captain.” Izzie went into regulation stance and saluted him. “Wait till you see the dress we found for Caroline. It looks just like mine.” She pivoted on her heel and headed for her bedroom. “We match.”

  Caroline bit her lip.

  He cocked his head. “Match? Like in mother and daughter dresses?”

  “I’m sorry, Weston. I didn’t think about how it would…” She slumped. “I should’ve never let her talk me into buying it. Only I didn’t bring a fancy dress with me across the Bay Bridge and—”

  “And Izzie wanted you two to match so much.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He returned to the kitchen. “You said that already.”

  She hated that she could no longer gauge his expression. “I’ll return the dress first thing tomorrow.”

  Weston plated the food. “And disappoint Izzie?”

  Her head started to pound. She cut her eyes to where she’d stashed her purse and the pills. If worse came to worst…

  Who was she kidding? Worse had already come to worst one time too many times in Caroline’s life. And now she’d made an unforgivable blunder with this man and the child she cared so much about.

  She fluttered her hand, a motion he failed to see with his back to her. “I’ll get a replacement. It’ll be fine.”

  “I’m well aware of how persuasive Izzie can be.” He faced her, plate in hand. “A replacement? Is that how you see yourself?”

  She flushed. “I was only trying to be her friend. I’d never try to replace Izzie’s mother.”

  And then the strangest expression of all crossed Weston’s face before his eyes shuttered. “Maybe you should,” he murmured as if to himself. “You’d be far better than the nothing she’s had so far.”

  Caroline’s eyes widened. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.

  “I’m baaack…” Izzie floated into the room in her usual T-shirt and jeans.

  Weston smiled. “Yes, you are and just in time for dinner.”

  He pushed a plate at Caroline through the cutout separating the kitchen from the eating area. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

  Dinner was both less and more than Caroline expected. Less tension—none, in fact. More fun. More comfortable than she’d allowed herself to imagine. Small talk wasn’t a problem with Izzie around.

  Caroline found herself sharing memories of a childhood on the Shore. Happy memories of sun-drenched summers, crisp autumn skies, the beauty of the fog-shrouded tidal marsh in winter. And her vision for a marine rescue center.

  The food was good. The conversation and company even better. In the glow of the hurricane lamp on the table, a portion of the loneliness she’d carried with her for so long seeped away.

  Izzie managed to drag out of Caroline the moment she decided to become a turtle lady. It had begun with a turtle entangled in one of her father’s nets in the old days before stricter fishing regulations were put in place.

  “Dad and I carefully cut away the rope and lowered the turtle over the side of the Now I S
ea. I was so proud because Dad said he needed my help. We watched the turtle—a loggerback, I realize now—slip beneath the blue-green waters of the inlet and disappear from sight.” Caroline leaned against the back of her chair.

  Weston took a sip of sweet tea. “So it was your dad and that experience that inspired you to become an aquatic veterinarian.”

  “I love my dad…” Izzie squeezed Weston’s hand.

  The gesture caught at Caroline’s emotions, the ones she tried so hard to keep in check. “I love my dad, too. I just wish—” She blinked and looked away.

  “Were you close?”

  She gave him a sad smile. “When he could drag me away from the hurt animals I collected. He’s always loved animals, too. Something we shared. Amelia was his fishing buddy. Lindi and Honey were Mom’s little shadows.”

  Caroline sighed. “It wasn’t always easy finding a place for myself in the family.” She blew a breath between her lips. “Or now for that matter.”

  “Beneath the hurt and anger, he loves you, too.”

  “We don’t always get do-overs, though.”

  His eyes became hooded. “No, we don’t.” He scooted back his chair. “So we need to make the most of today. Izzie, let’s show Caroline the lighthouse.”

  “The dishes.” Caroline rose. “Let me—”

  “Dishes can wait.” He stacked their plates and left them on the counter. “Come on. Wait till you see what we’ve done.”

  Izzie yanked open the wooden door in the wall Caroline had spied earlier. “Come on, you slowpokes.”

  “We’re keeping it closed off until the construction phase is over and the dust settles.” He ushered her through.

  Caroline’s breath hitched.

  He grimaced. “Bear in mind, it’s a work in progress.”

  She touched his sleeve. “It’s wonderful.”

  Caroline surveyed the unplastered redbrick walls in the circular-shaped room. The exterior door probably led directly to the beach below. A curving staircase spiraled upward. Not unlike the chambered nautilus shell on the mantel above a restored hearth.

  “My grandfather’s. It was the only thing he brought with him when the Coast Guard closed this place in the 1950s. He kept it mounted on a shelf in his study in Richmond. Reminded him of home. Like you, he grew up here. From a long line of lightkeepers.”

  Izzie dangled over the baluster railing at an angle that made Caroline dizzy. Proving Monkey Girl was an apt nickname. “Daddy says that’s our family’s special gift—we shine the light.”

  He shrugged. “She makes it sound far more noble than—”

  “In an increasingly dark world—” Caroline lifted her chin “—I’m not sure there’s a more noble legacy to have than that.”

  “This will be the new family room, and the cottage will be renovated once we move into our new quarters upstairs.” A light sparked in his eyes, which she’d not seen before. “The kitchen area will be enlarged, and the cottage bedrooms will become my office.”

  “Amelia said you were an engineer.”

  He gave her a lazy grin. “You’ve been talking about me with your sister?”

  She fiddled with the long gold chain dangling at the front of her brown cardigan. “Don’t flatter yourself. No more than idle curiosity, I assure you.”

  He laughed.

  Caroline’s lips curved. “Though in looking at the progress you’ve made in such a short time, I’m guessing there’s nothing idle about you. When do you find time to run your company?”

  His face lost some of its humor. “I’ve put that on hold for a few months. My partner’s running things in my absence. I’ll be able to work from home once we complete the remodeling on the cottage, probably by Labor Day.”

  Weston moved toward the stairs, where Izzie, ever impatient, had already disappeared. “Let me show you the rest.”

  Topic changed. A touchy subject, his work sabbatical. Best left alone. Caroline would remember that next time. Her cheeks burned as she followed him up the staircase at a more sedate pace. Assuming there was going to be a next time.

  Izzie’s room was everything Caroline believed a princess in the tower’s room should be. But there, Weston called a halt to the tour.

  “You’ve got school tomorrow, Monkey Girl.”

  Izzie groaned. “It’s only eight o’clock…”

  With a start, Caroline examined her wristwatch. The time had flown. Must be the company.

  He herded Izzie downstairs to the cottage. She smiled as Izzie scooped up her stuffed animal menagerie. Yes, definitely the company.

  “I’ll be right back.” A pucker formed between his brows. “Promise you won’t go anywhere. Okay?”

  Her heart accelerated. “I won’t,” she whispered.

  “Good.” He tapped the doorframe before disappearing into the hallway. A valve squeaked, followed by the sound of running water.

  She occupied herself with washing the dishes. She’d set the kitchen and dining area to rights when Weston reappeared. He’d taken time to comb his hair. The aroma of fresh soap with hints of Old Spice emanated from a man who already rocked her senses. The Old Spice reminded her of her father.

  “I didn’t mean for you to do the dishes.”

  “My pleasure after the wonderful dinner you prepared.”

  Weston stroked the beard shadow on his jawline. “According to Izzie, one of the two dishes in my entire culinary repertoire.”

  “A great dad who’s in no way defined by his cooking prowess.”

  His mouth pulled downward. “As in lack thereof. And I wasn’t always a great dad.” He frowned. “I was a terrible father, but I’m learning and trying to make up for what happened before.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

  “I want to.” He twined his hand through her fingers. “And no one is more surprised by that than me.”

  She stared at their locked hands.

  “Also, I want to show you the rest of the lighthouse. Including the gallery, where Izzie isn’t allowed to go by herself. The view will take your breath.”

  Looking into his eyes, Caroline decided the view wasn’t so bad from where she stood. But she allowed him to lead her toward the lighthouse tower.

  Past the cozy, future living room. Up the stairs. Past the landing where Izzie’s room was located. Upward they climbed. Caroline paused to catch her breath on the top landing.

  She peered over the banister. “Now I know how you keep in shape.” She could’ve bitten off her tongue. “I mean…”

  He made a show of flexing his biceps. “Glad to see you noticed.”

  She made a show of rolling her eyes and motioned toward the black-hinged door on the landing. “What’s in there?” Her turn to change the subject.

  He threw open the door. “The master bedroom.”

  She stepped across the threshold as he fumbled for the light switch, revealing circular walls painted a cielo blue, and a mahogany floor minus furnishings.

  “It takes minimalist to a whole new level.” She strolled over to one of the tall windows encircling the room and gazed below at the rhythmic pounding of the surf on the beach. “Literally.”

  He shuffled his feet on the polished floor. “Honey put together Izzie’s room. I haven’t decided how I want my room decorated, so I’ve left it bare for now. More important projects to work on first. I’ll throw in some furniture eventually and call it done.”

  She did a slow three-sixty. “The sea views alone… Above everything with only the sound of the wind… In daylight with the sunshine pouring into these gorgeous windows—”

  Weston propped against the wall with an interesting smile on his face. “My thoughts exactly. Sawyer and Honey think I’m crazy to roost here in this eagle’s aerie of a room.”

  He scratched his head and gave Caroline a slow, steady smile. “’Course most folks think I’m crazy in the first place for rehabbing a derelict lighthouse into a home.”

  *

  Weston waited for
Caroline’s reaction. And she didn’t disappoint.

  She lifted her chin. A gesture he was finding increasingly endearing. “I know a little something about crazy. Trust me, this isn’t even close.”

  “And then there’s all those stairs…”

  Her lips quirked. “Well, there is that. They may have a point.”

  “Speaking of stairs, think you can handle one more flight to the lantern room?”

  “Lead the way, Commander Clark.”

  He found it increasingly impossible not to smile in this woman’s presence. She’d have him grinning like a buffoon all the time if he didn’t watch himself. “Ex-Commander.”

  At the top of the stairs, he leveraged open one final door with his shoulder. He gave Caroline an apologetic look. “A work in progress, remember?”

  She smiled. And he couldn’t help himself. He smiled back. Caroline Duer—aka Turtle Lady—lightened his life in ways he hadn’t experienced since…

  He stepped out of the doorway to allow Caroline through. Since never.

  “The light…” Like steel to magnet, she headed toward the enormous light in the center of the glass-studded room. “I didn’t think the Coast Guard used these anymore.”

  She ran her fingertip over one of the multifaceted prisms.

  “The Coast Guard doesn’t. When they automated most lighthouses in the 1950s, this one was decommissioned. Now with cheaper light stations anchored and floating in troublesome channels, the new systems don’t require the manpower this type of lens demanded.”

  “Does the lens still work?” The awed hush to her voice filled something empty in his soul. Her delight pleased him in a way he hadn’t expected.

  “Not yet. But I’m working on it with Coast Guard officials. For rare, ceremonial occasions.”

  “Your most amazing project ever.”

  He shook his head. “Izzie is my most important project. The lighthouse is merely a boyhood dream come true. Icing on the cake.” He pulled her toward a glass door in the wall of glass. “There’s more I want to show you.”

  She favored him with a sweet smile. And his heart sped up. He drew her out onto the gallery.

  The wind buffeted them. She wrapped her cardigan around her body. He stepped closer to block the wind. “I should’ve brought my jacket.”