by Shirley Jump
Missing his lips on hers, that was for sure. More than she liked to admit. And really enjoying the way he was looking at her. More than she wanted to admit.
“Are you flirting with me, Luke?” She propped a fist on her hip and felt a tiny thrill when his gaze flicked to her curves.
“Me? Never.” He grinned.
She hoped he was lying. That kiss had told her one thing, but her common sense told her another. Luke had been Susannah’s boyfriend at the end of senior year of high school and a little after, and Susannah was as far removed from Peyton as two aliens raised on different planets. Plus, the Luke she remembered from high school had dated as if it was a sport, rarely staying in one relationship for very long. Peyton needed to remember that before she got too caught up in a couple of innuendos and a compliment.
And besides, Peyton had priorities. Priorities that didn’t include a relationship with Luke, even if that kiss lingered at the edge of every thought. “Well, good,” she said, to him, to herself, as a reminder that she shouldn’t be kissing him at all, “because I have other things on my mind right now besides...” She waved a hand between them, then down at Maddy, who was watching the adult exchange with wide-eyed interest, continuing, “Whatever this is that you’re doing.”
“This—” Luke gestured between them “—is nothing more than me giving you a compliment. All you have to do is say thank you, Peyton. Not run off into the sunset with me.”
Maddy tugged on Peyton’s sleeve. “Auntie P? I gotta go potty.”
“Oh, sure. Uh, bathroom’s inside, to the left.” Luke pointed. Charlie popped up his ears, but stayed by his master. “Do you need me to do anything?”
He looked so panicked at the idea that Peyton almost laughed. “No. I got this.” She hurried inside with Maddy, mostly as a way to avoid having a discussion with Luke that she didn’t want to have.
Run off into the sunset with him? Goodness, no. She wasn’t interested in him—even if that flutter in her belly belied her statement—and she was only here so he could do his part with his own flesh and blood. Even if she did succumb to Luke’s charms again, she had no intentions of dating him. He was Maddy’s father and that alone screamed best to keep a strong line in the sand.
She wasn’t a silly romantic girl anymore, Peyton reminded herself. Just because the man was still handsome and was being nice to Maddy didn’t mean they’d all end up in some house with a white picket fence. This was reality, not a romance novel, and Peyton needed to keep a steady focus on the facts. Luke was Maddy’s father, not the boy she’d once had a crush on. This wasn’t her chance to tie up loose ends from high school—it was Maddy’s chance to build a relationship with her sole biological parent.
“Auntie P?” Maddy asked, as she rubbed her soapy hands together under the running water. “Do you like Mr. Luke?”
“Sure I do.” As a friend. Just a friend.
“Then how’s come you make this face sometimes?” Maddy screwed up her nose and pressed her lips together.
Oh, the simple questions of children that merited complicated answers. “Are your hands all clean?” Peyton asked.
“Yup!” Maddy raised her hands, sending water dripping onto the tile floor. Peyton snagged a towel from the rack and dried Maddy’s hands.
“Let’s go see Charlie the dog. I bet he’s as ready to be friends now as you are. Okay?”
Maddy nodded, her earlier question forgotten. She hurried out of the bathroom, and they returned to the front hall. Luke was waiting for them, his dog sitting patiently a few feet away.
“Can I play with the doggy now?” Maddy asked Luke. “Does he like dolls?”
Peyton had never had a dog, so she wasn’t sure if the dog would chew up the toys or allow Maddy to pile them near him. Peyton wanted to tell Maddy no, to throw up the flag of caution—all those what-ifs that plagued Peyton’s every decision with Maddy rising in full force—but Luke stepped in before she could.
“Charlie loves dolls,” Luke said, with a confident smile. He snapped his fingers and the dog scampered forward, then settled on the beige rug beside Maddy. Charlie’s tail slapped the carpet. He sniffed the air around Maddy, and whatever scent he got made his tail wag even faster. “You can pet him, if you want. Tell him your name first, so you can meet all proper.”
“Hi, Charlie. I’m Maddy.” She reached out a tentative hand, holding it just a hair’s breadth away from Charlie’s muzzle. The dog nosed forward and pressed his snout against her hand. She let out a happy squeal, then did it again. An honest-to-goodness joyous sound, something Peyton had wondered if she would ever hear again.
“She loves him,” Peyton whispered to Luke.
“I told you, he’s the miracle dog.” Luke shared a smile with Peyton, then moved over to Maddy. “Charlie’s a big baby, you know. He’ll be your best friend for life if you scratch behind his ears. Like this.” Luke bent down and gave Charlie’s ear a rub. “Wanna try?”
Maddy looked up at Luke, uncertainty shimmering in her eyes. “He won’t bite me?”
“Charlie is the sweetest dog in all of Stone Gap, maybe in all of North Carolina. He wouldn’t bite anyone.”
Maddy hesitated a second more, then ran a tentative hand along Charlie’s head. The dog, as if sensing he needed to be more relaxed around the little girl, lowered his head to his paws and let out a happy groan. Maddy giggled and, within five seconds, was petting Charlie and chattering about her dolls, as if the mutt might jump in and play at any moment.
It was the most relaxed Peyton had seen Maddy in a long, long time. There was no more worry in Maddy’s face, no more indecision about staying here at Luke’s. She was happy—honest-to-God happy—and for the first time in a long time, Peyton felt good about leaving Maddy for a little while.
Maybe being at Luke’s, with the dog and the swing, would help Maddy loosen up and find some joy again. Peyton got to her feet and straightened her skirt before crossing to Luke. “That was nice, what you did with the dog.”
He shrugged. “All kids love dogs. And Charlie loves all kids.”
Maybe Luke would be better at this than she thought. The tension in Peyton’s body eased a fraction. “Maddy should have everything she needs in this bag,” Peyton said, handing over a tote bag to Luke. “A change of clothes, some ibuprofen if she gets a fever. Everything is labeled, and there’s a schedule in the bag—”
“Schedule? For the next two hours of her life?”
“Kids do best when they are on a schedule.” She tugged it out and showed him the slip of paper. “Do you want me to go over it with you?”
“Uh, I think I can read. I do have that high school diploma, you know.”
She made a face at him. “Okay, but if you have questions, call me. Maddy eats lunch at twelve so I will be back in time for that.”
“I can feed her here.”
“No, I’ll pick her up.” Peyton wasn’t worried about Luke’s ability to watch Maddy for a little while, but long-term...
Maybe not such a good idea. Besides, she had promised Maddy she would be back soon, and returning before lunch, so that lunch could be followed by the hotel pool, then dinner, then bath, then bedtime, would put them both back on track, something she seemed to forget whenever Luke was around. Peyton liked the schedule, the tightness of it, the way it wrapped her days in predictability. That was what Maddy needed, and what gave Peyton comfort. “I always make sure Maddy has a good lunch.”
“You do?” He hesitated, then asked, “Didn’t Susannah do that?”
“Susannah was...busy.” Peyton didn’t say that her sister often slept until Peyton had to leave for work, and rarely made anything that didn’t come loaded with fat and carbohydrates. Rather than battle her sister about doing the right thing, Peyton had gotten in the habit of making lunch for all of them before she left for work each day.
“I have an idea. Why don’t you come here, and have lunch with me and Maddy?”
“Do you have something healthy to eat here?”
“Are you serious? She can’t have—”
He put up a hand. “It’s a joke, Peyton. Lighten up. We’ll be fine. I might not have any experience at this, but I’m not a total idiot.”
She arched a brow.
“Trust me,” he whispered. “Just trust me.”
That was the trouble. She didn’t fully trust him. Didn’t, in fact, trust anyone but herself when it came to Madelyne. Susannah had accused Peyton of being too much of a worrywart, constantly yelled at her to just relax. Kids have been growing up for centuries without all that crap you keep reading in those silly books, Peyton, Susannah would say. When they’re hungry, they eat. When they need to sleep, they sleep. Stop worrying about the freaking nutritional labels and the daily schedule. She’s a kid, not a science experiment.
Peyton took Luke’s hand, wanting only to get his attention, but a zing went through her when they touched. It made her want to kiss him again, to do a whole lot more than just kiss. She wanted to hold his hand forever, to prolong the moment as long as she could. But she wasn’t here for that, or for herself, so she released his hand. “Maddy means more to me than you can ever understand, and for me to leave her here with you takes a monumental amount of trust. Don’t. Screw. This. Up.”
He glanced over at Maddy, still happily chatting with Charlie and showing him each of her dolls, then back at Peyton. “You can count on me, Peyton.”
But past history had proven differently, and as Peyton walked out of Luke’s house, she wondered if she was putting her faith in Luke because she was a hopeless romantic—or a hopeless fool.
Chapter Six
The second the door shut behind Peyton, Luke had a moment of panic. Then he reminded himself that Maddy was sitting on his living room floor, surrounded by dolls and the dog. She seemed happy enough right now, which meant maybe this wasn’t going to be so hard. After all, it was only for a couple of hours, and they’d gotten along well at the pool and the zoo. He could handle this, no problem. What could possibly go wrong?
Luke had his answer to that five minutes later. He was in the kitchen, pouring a third cup of coffee—contrary to what he’d told Peyton, 9:00 a.m. was pretty damned early for him—when he heard a cry followed by, “Auntie P! I wanna see Auntie P!”
Luke headed into the living room. He saw Charlie tucked in a ball in the corner, his head down, as if saying, I didn’t do it, man, and Madelyne dwarfed by the big armchair, her arms wrapped around her chest, the toys forgotten on the floor. Crimson bloomed in her cheeks and her blue eyes were puffy. She scrubbed at one eye with the back of her fist, then stared up at him, expectant. “Where’s Auntie P?”
“She’s working,” Luke said. “How about we, uh, read a book?”
Did the kid even read yet? He had no idea. More to the point—did he own a single book appropriate for a child? Probably not.
“I don’t wanna.” Maddy popped a thumb into her mouth.
Wasn’t she too old for that? He was pretty sure she was, but he kept his thoughts to himself. The full extent of his knowledge about kids could fit on the back of a wasp, with room left over. “Uh, want to watch TV?”
The thumb stayed put. She shook her head again. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Damn.
“Hey, look, your dolls.” He waved toward the pile on the floor, trying to work some enthusiasm into his voice. “You should play with them. Charlie loves the dolls.” But the dog had skulked away, as if saying, This is your gig, dude.
“I want Auntie P,” Madelyne said, then the thumb went back in her mouth. Her free hand twisted into her shirt, gathering the hem into a worried knot.
“We could go outside.” Just say yes, Maddy, and quit looking at me like I ran over your puppy.
Now the tears brimmed, rivers standing on the edge of big blue banks. “When’s Auntie P coming back?”
“Lunchtime.”
“When’s that?”
“I...I’m not sure. Let me check the schedule.” He hurried back into the kitchen, dug through the bag until he found the neatly printed paper. Glanced at the clock, back at the schedule.
One hour and forty-five minutes to go. Luke stood there, feeling helpless and frustrated all at the same time. A few minutes in and he was ready to throw in the towel. Reason number four hundred and thirty-seven why he shouldn’t be a father.
“You want lunch?” he asked. Because Maddy was still sitting there, staring at him.
“I dunno. It’s not lunchtime, is it?”
“Not really. But the real question is, are you hungry now?”
She nodded.
“Well, how about having second breakfast?”
Madelyne’s face scrunched in confusion. “What’s that?”
“Second breakfast is the best meal ever,” Luke said, bending down to the kid’s eye level. Her eyes had stopped looking like tidal pools, and she’d let go of the corner of her shirt, so he figured he was making progress. That made him feel good. Damned good. “It’s when you’re still hungry from first breakfast, so you eat it all over again.”
He vowed to show Maddy all the Lord of the Rings movies as soon as she was old enough. He’d bet good money his daughter would love them as much as he did.
She considered that. “I never had a second breakfast.”
“Well, I have them all the time, and I think they’re awesome. Wanna come see what I have to eat?”
The short answer, Luke realized a few minutes later, was nothing. That was when he remembered that most days he had second breakfast at Jack’s, or his mother’s, or at the Stone Gap Sip and Chew, which wasn’t near as nice as Miss Viv’s restaurant, but was cheap and only a half a mile away.
Madelyne peered around his hip and into the fridge. “You don’t have a lotta stuff.”
“Nope. I forgot to go grocery shopping.” Though Luke’s version of grocery shopping was usually bringing home leftovers from his mother’s Sunday dinners, and grabbing something at a drive-through midweek.
“Auntie P goes shopping lots. We buy bananas and apples and cereal and toast and chicken nuggets, ’cept not the kind of chicken nuggets I wanna buy. Auntie P says we gotta have the healthy ones. Cuz they don’t have...filleruppers.”
“Filleruppers?” Luke asked, then thought a second. “Oh, you mean fillers.”
That was good. Meant Peyton was watching what went into her niece’s belly. Probably why she’d nixed the extra whipped cream on the pancakes, too. Luke never would have thought to read a label or consider the full ingredients list. Good thing at least one adult in Madelyne’s life made sure she didn’t grow up eating Red Dye #40, or whatever it was that kids weren’t supposed to eat.
Clearly, if he was going to be spending time with his daughter, he needed to check a few nutritional tips on Google. And get to the grocery store more than once a month.
Madelyne looked up at him. “Do you have chicken nuggets?”
He glanced again in the fridge, as if food would magically appear. “Nope.”
“Peanut butter?”
A quick peek in the cupboard. “Nope. Uh, but I do have a can of beans.”
She shook her head. “Beans are icky.”
“That’s because they’re good for you.” He took out the can, showed it to her. “See? It says healthy right there.”
“I don’t want beans. I want what Auntie P makes me.”
“What does Auntie P make?” He knew he could call her and ask her, but that would mean admitting defeat less than twenty minutes into the whole trust me, I can handle this with one hand tied behind my back promise earlier this morning.
“Good stuff.” Madelyne shrugged. “Yummy stuff.”
Stuff without filleruppers, he assumed. “Uh, I have beans.”
Jeez, he really needed to grow up and get his ass to the grocery store once in a while. A six-pack of beer, a half-empty container of very likely expired milk, one pack of cheese and a can of beans did not constitute a full pantry.
Madelyne started to cry again. Except this time it was worse. Because she did it silently, just standing there, tears sliding down her cheeks in slow, steady rivers, as if he had run over her puppy and stolen her best friend at the same time.
Okay, so he sucked at this. Sucked royally. It was time to call in reinforcements. Reinforcements who would be pleased as punch to know Maddy existed. And truth be told, a part of Luke was damned proud he had a child as perfect as this one, and he wanted to share that with his family. He might not have accomplished much in his life so far, but he had been part of this four-year-old miracle, and that, he knew, was a pretty amazing thing.
“You know what, Maddy?” he said with a sigh. “You’re right. It’s time to make a call.”
“Auntie P?”
“Better. My mom.” He grinned, then picked up his phone.
* * *
Peyton stared at her cell phone. Checked it for text messages, even though the sound was up, the screen was bright and she would have seen and heard a message or a ring from ten miles away. Her finger hovered over the call button, debating whether to call Luke and check on Madelyne. It had, after all, been over an hour since she’d dropped her niece off.
Trust me, Luke had said.
But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. And now, all of a sudden, she had put the most precious person in her life in someone else’s hands.
She glanced at her phone again, just as her computer screen lit up with an incoming Skype invitation. The client she was working with, one of the most important and demanding ones at Winston Interior Design. Catherine Madsen bought and redecorated houses as often as some people changed out the photographs on their mantel. She said it kept her young, and kept her from thinking about the loss of her Realtor husband a few years ago. He’d left her with a generous nest egg, and a treasure trove of properties located throughout the historic area of Baltimore.
