by Shirley Jump
Maddy was turned toward Luke now, her eyes wide, her attention on him and nothing else. “What?”
“He asked his dog if he would swim with him, so the fisherman wouldn’t get scared. The dog wagged his tail and ran over to the water. So the fisherman took off his boots and got in the water.” As Luke told the story, Peyton could almost see an imaginary fisherman standing in the water, filled with trepidation and desire and hope. “He was so scared, he was shaking, but his dog, that big goofy yellow dog, stayed right beside him. The fisherman walked as far as he could walk, then he stood there, not sure how to swim. The dog went out in the water ahead of him and showed him how to do it. Do you know how a doggy swims, Maddy?”
She nodded. “I see Charlie do it. He goes like this.” She mocked a dog paddle.
“Exactly. That’s how the fisherman did it, and he got all the way across the lake that day. He got out of the water, ran over to Annabelle’s house and married her on the spot. They lived on that little island for a long, long time, with their goofy yellow dog, and they were very happy.”
It was the perfect happy ending, Peyton thought. As wonderful as the ones she had read in the novels that were her best friends when she was a young girl.
Luke gave Charlie another ear rub, but kept on talking, his voice as calm as the lake lapping gently at their feet. “Your mom told me that story, and then she told me that if the fisherman could swim clear across this big lake, then I could swim out to the dock. She swam right beside me, and we swam just like the fisherman, all the way to the end of the dock.” Luke pointed to the wooden pier, jutting twenty or so feet into the water.
“That’s really far,” Maddy said.
“How about you and me try swimming like Charlie? Just right here. We’ll stay real close, so you can touch the bottom the whole time.” Luke picked up the stick that Maddy had been tossing for the dog earlier. “Here, let’s have Charlie show us how. Throw that in the water, Maddy, and Charlie will swim right out and get it for you.”
Maddy got to her feet and stood at the very edge of the water. Charlie popped to his feet and stood beside her, his body tense with anticipation. “Charlie, you gotta swim real good, okay?”
The dog barked, and Maddy tossed the stick. It only went a few feet into the water, but Charlie charged after it all the same, switching to a dog paddle when his paws lost contact with the bottom of the lake. Then he turned, paddled back and climbed onto the bank to drop the stick at Maddy’s feet.
“He did it!” Maddy squealed. “He’s a smart doggy.”
“He is indeed. Now let’s take him with us, and we’ll try to swim just like him.” Luke put out his hand. And waited. Peyton could see the tension and hope in his face, how badly he wanted to bond with Maddy, to be her father. A father who taught his child how to swim. A father who helped his child overcome a fear. A father who was afraid of diving in, because he might sink.
Maddy looked at Luke’s hand. She caught the hem of her shirt and bunched it into a tight ball, and kept on staring at his hand. Then she raised her gaze to Luke, a question in her eyes.
He smiled down at her. “Just like Charlie, Maddy. You can do it.”
Her fist tightened around the fabric even more, and for a second, Peyton held her breath, waiting for Maddy to say no, for her to run back up the hill and far, far away from the water. But then her little hand opened, and the hem tumbled back into place. Maddy slid her palm into Luke’s and took a step forward with him.
Another.
Charlie bounded ahead of them, his tail wagging encouragement. Luke made a gesture with his hand, and Charlie swam out into the lake.
Luke took another step. Maddy followed. Two more steps, three, the water rising to Maddy’s waist, her chest. Maddy’s eyes grew wide, and Luke pivoted to take her other hand. “Now I’m just going to hold you here and you can lift your feet. You’ll float, just like Charlie does.”
Maddy’s eyes were wide again, and Peyton strode down to the edge of the water, ready to go get her niece. She saw Maddy’s hands whiten as she clutched Luke’s tighter, but then, in a moment that made Peyton’s heart stutter, Maddy kicked her feet behind her and then...
She was floating.
Not just floating, but laughing. Charlie was beside her, treading water, then he started paddling away, as if he sensed what Luke was trying to do. Maddy looked to Luke, a smile on her face.
“Let’s swim like Charlie,” Luke said gently. “Try one hand first, Maddy-girl.”
Maddy hesitated again, her hands white, holding his so tight, she was probably cutting off the circulation. Wanting to trust. Needing to trust. Another heartbeat passed, and Peyton swore she stopped breathing in that time. Then Maddy let go of Luke’s right hand and pawed at the water before her.
“Good job, Maddy.” His voice was soft, encouraging. “Now try the other hand. Swim like Charlie does, and be sure to kick, too. And don’t worry, Maddy, I’ll hold on until you tell me to let go.” He shifted until he was beside her, his hands under her belly, helping to keep her above water.
“You promise?” Maddy asked.
“I promise.” He lowered his head until he was eye level with her. “I’ll hold on, until you tell me to let go.”
Maddy stared into his eyes, her face tense, anxious. She started dog-paddling, her legs scissoring at the water. She glanced over at him, her face alight with pride, then nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Luke removed one hand, and Maddy dipped a bit, sputtered out some water, but then kept going. “You’re doing it, kid, you’re doing it,” Luke said, pride swelling in his expression. “Now I’m going to let go, but don’t worry. If you just keep swimming like Charlie, you’ll be fine. I’ll be right here, Maddy. I’ll always be right here.”
He pulled his other hand away, and Maddy gasped when she dipped down in the water again and swallowed another gulp of lake. She froze for a second, and Peyton rushed forward, knee-deep in the water now, but then Maddy recovered, sputtered for a moment and started paddling again. She powered forward, with Charlie keeping pace beside her, and Luke slowly treading water on the opposite side, never more than a few inches away. “I’m doing it, Luke! I’s swimming!”
“You are indeed.” His smile wobbled and his eyes glimmered. “And you are an awesome swimmer, Maddy. Awesome. I’m so proud of you.”
Pride lit up Maddy’s face, beamed like the sun in her smile. Beside her, Luke’s smile was just as bright, his eyes just as full.
Peyton’s heart clutched and tears welled in her eyes. “You’re doing it,” she whispered to Maddy, to Luke, to the amazing moment that was changing all of their lives. “You’re doing it.”
Chapter Twelve
“She’s all tuckered out,” Luke said an hour later.
Maddy had been swimming with him most of that afternoon, motoring around the shoreline. As the sun began to set, Peyton had Maddy change her clothes and stay on the sand. They all gathered on the blanket and divvied up generous hunks of icebox cake. As soon as the dessert was finished, Maddy had curled up against Charlie, her head on the dog’s back, and told him she was going to read him a story. Two pages into the picture book, Maddy fell asleep. Charlie took one look at the little girl draped across his spine, and he, too, settled down and went to sleep.
The sky was blurring pinks into purples, darkening along the edge of the lake where the sun was edging down. The fishermen had all parked their boats for the night, and the loons had winged their way home. The world around Stone Gap Lake had narrowed to just the three of them.
And, Luke had to admit, it was as close to perfect as the world could get.
If someone had come to him a week ago and said, You’re going to find out you have a daughter, and that will make you completely change your life in the space of a few days, he would have said they were crazy. But here he was, going on picnics, spinning tall tales about the lake and watching a little girl sleep, thinking it was one of the most amazing things he’d ever seen.
He
was getting soft. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.
“I think all that swimming wore her out,” Peyton said. “I should get her back to the hotel.”
“My house is closer. Why don’t we just go there? I have an extra bedroom for Maddy.”
“And...?”
“And nothing more than I don’t want the day to end.” That was the truth. He was enjoying this new situation, the way it wrapped around him. It was like being home for Christmas, only better. Maybe he could handle this, after all. He wasn’t sure where the future was going to go, or how he was going to work out custody with Peyton in Maryland and him in North Carolina, but that was something he’d worry about tomorrow.
Peyton’s gaze lingered on her sleeping, happy niece. “Me, too.”
Luke gathered up Maddy, hoisting her into his arms. Still asleep, she curled against him, and his chest filled. He stood there for a second, just holding her, holding the moment. “Tomorrow, I want to tell her,” he said quietly to Peyton.
“But we don’t have the DNA results back yet.”
“Even if it says I’m not her natural father, I still...” He glanced down again at Maddy. “I still want to be the father she needs.”
Peyton hesitated, then nodded, a watery smile on her face. “I think it’s time. But I think we should tell her together.”
“Then maybe you should spend the night,” he said, knowing the sentence would open another door. Take another step toward something with an uncertain future.
Instead of answering the unspoken question, Peyton changed the subject. “I’ll, uh, put the picnic supplies in the car,” she said. “You carry Maddy.”
They trekked back to the car, buckling Maddy into her booster seat, then loading the leftovers and blanket into the trunk. It was only a few blocks from the lake to Luke’s house, but the drive seemed to take ten times longer than usual. Maddy stayed asleep, and Peyton stayed quiet. Once they arrived at Luke’s, Maddy roused a little, but fell asleep as soon as Luke crossed the threshold. He laid her in the guest bed, covered her with the light comforter—inordinately grateful that his mother had insisted on him having at least some real furniture and linens—then left the door ajar in case Maddy woke up and got scared. Charlie, as if sensing where he should be, curled up in the space at the foot of the bed and stayed with the little girl.
“Good boy,” Luke whispered to the dog.
He found Peyton in the kitchen, stowing the leftovers in his refrigerator. Her hair was a little windblown from their day by the water, giving her a wild edge. She’d thrown shorts and a T-shirt over her bathing suit, but her feet were bare, her peach legs long and tempting. “I found a bottle of wine in your fridge. Do you want some?”
“Sure. I think I have an opener somewhere around here.”
She laughed. “It’s a screw top. We’re good.”
He grabbed two mismatched juice glasses from his cabinet, took the bottle from Peyton and poured them each a glass. She leaned back against the counter and raised hers. “Cheers.”
He clinked with her and thought this toast was a hell of a lot better than any of the ones he’d shared with his buddies. “To a great day.”
“It was a great day. Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do much beyond pick up the food.”
“You taught Maddy how to swim. That was a huge deal, Luke.” She smiled and shook her head in wonder. “I was so worried the whole time but you...you handled it perfectly.”
He grinned. “Like a pro?”
“No.” She paused and for a second his heart fell, then she lifted her gaze to his and he saw the sheen of tears in her green eyes. “Like Maddy’s dad.”
His heart swelled. He hadn’t realized how much he needed—no, craved—hearing that stamp of approval from Peyton until just then. “It’s the first time you’ve called me that. I like it. A lot.”
“Then maybe you should get used to those words going forward.”
“Maybe I should.” They shared a smile in the dim light, then clinked glasses again, as if putting a seal on the promise.
“Was any of that story about the fisherman true?” Peyton asked.
“Bits and pieces. You know the South. There’s a legend behind every strand of Spanish moss.”
Peyton chuckled. “That’s true. Did Susannah really make all that up?”
“Some of it, yeah. She had quite the imagination. I always thought she would grow up to be a writer or something.”
“You know, when I was a teenager, I would have been jealous to hear you speak of my sister so fondly. But now...it’s nice. Like we can share the memories of her.”
“To Susannah,” Luke said, and they clinked again. “And to the wonderful gift she gave us both.”
“She did indeed,” Peyton said softly. “I wish she had lived to see Maddy grow up. And to pursue some of her own dreams. Susannah just couldn’t believe in herself, and I think that’s what kept her from ever getting a decent job.”
“You’ve done well for yourself, though.” He tipped his glass toward her. “You took that creative Reynolds girl gene and made a hell of a name for yourself in interior design.”
“How do you know that?”
He grinned. “Google.”
“You looked me up on Google?” She laughed. “Why?”
He shifted into place beside her, hip to hip, parked against the counter. “Because when you can’t stop thinking about a girl, you realize you want to know everything about her. And so you stay up late at night and check Google sometimes.”
She blushed and dipped her head, then looked up at him through the curtain of her long blond hair. “Really?”
“Really.” He brushed the hair off her face and tucked it behind one ear. “So what didn’t the internet tell me?”
“There’s not much to tell.” Peyton wrapped her hands around the glass but didn’t drink. “I lead a pretty boring life. Work, go home, go back to work.”
He shifted in front of her. “What happened to the Peyton who used to go swimming in the lake when it was freezing out? Who used to tag along when I went trekking through the woods or rescuing hurt dogs?”
“She grew up.” Peyton shrugged. “I was never much for downtime, Luke. I was always busy trying to get good grades or get into college or get my career off the ground.”
“Why? Why not stop and enjoy the picnics and skinny-dipping—”
“Skinny-dipping? That, I never, ever did.”
“We will definitely have to find time to do that, then.” He watched the way her breath sped up when he was near, and how she licked her lips, which made him want to do the same, to have her in his arms again. “What about lazy Sundays in bed, doing nothing more than reading the paper and making love?”
“I never, ever did that, either. Well, I’ve done the making-love part—” she blushed “—but not the lazy-Sunday part.”
“Then that is another thing we should remedy someday. And when we do, I’ll make pancakes.”
She smiled, as coquettish as a debutante. “You’re assuming I want to spend a long, lazy Sunday in bed with you.”
The thought of her in bed with him, any day of the week, left him weak at the knees, made his brain short-circuit.
“Mighty presumptuous of me, but I think—” he reached forward, took her glass out of her hands and put it on the counter beside her, watching her pulse tick in her throat “—you’ve thought about it as much as I have.”
“I’ve thought about a lot of things that involved you, Luke Barlow. I am, after all, a very creative girl.” She blushed when she flirted with him, which was cute and endearing and sexy as hell. “You said so yourself.”
Holy hell. That was a good thing. A damned good thing.
“As long as at least one of those creative thoughts revolved around a bed, I’m happy.”
“In, around.” She shrugged, and he thought it was the sexiest move he’d seen all day.
“You surprise me. Since when have you be
en thinking these ‘in, around’ thoughts?”
The blush again, and she glanced away. “For a long time. I used to...have a crush on you back in high school.”
“You did? How could I have missed that?”
She shrugged. “I guess I was easy to miss, with all those books and those nerdy glasses.”
He tipped her chin until she was looking at him. “You, Peyton, are impossible to miss. And I am glad to have this second chance with you.”
A smile danced on her face. “Me, too.”
“So, tell me,” he said, leaning in closer. “Are you still infatuated with me?”
“Not at all,” she said, then a tease lit her eyes. “What I’m feeling now is definitely much, much more grown-up.”
“Hmm... I think I’m feeling the exact same thing. What is that they say about waiting? That it makes everything that much sweeter. And you are very, very sweet indeed.”
His lips were centimeters away from hers, their breath mingling in the space between them. The tension that had been at the edge of every word today, every look, built like a pot finally coming to a boil. He leaned closer, tilting his head to the left, until his lips were brushing against hers and he could hear the rapid beat of her heart in the space between them. He wanted her, more than he could ever remember wanting anyone or anything. “I want to kiss you, Peyton.”
Her eyes widened, but she turned her chin up toward his and laid a hand on his arm. “Then whatever are you waiting for?”
“You. To make the first move.”
A smile curved up one side of her mouth. A sexy, seductive, amazing smile that danced in her eyes. “That’s also something I’ve never done before.”
“You have a very long list of firsts, Peyton Reynolds. I say we start working our way down them. Right...” He brushed against her velvety lips, and she leaned into him, but he pulled back, teasing her. “This...” He did it again, heard a little mew of disappointment when he pulled back again. “Very—”
