His little girl snuggled in the arms of one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen in his life. Head bent over a picture book, the woman softly read aloud to his daughter.
Weston took a moment to calm the staccato beating of his heart. To settle his fear. And to be honest, to enjoy the scene before him the way you would take pleasure in an exquisite painting.
The woman’s elegant, long-sleeved white silk blouse was overdressed for the casual fishing hamlet. As were the navy trousers and sling-back pumps in a place where the preferred attire was flip-flops and shorts. A bun at the nape of her slim neck, tendrils of reddish brown hair framed the woman’s oval face.
“Mahogany.” With the woodworking he’d done of late, he should know. Her hair was the color of mahogany.
He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until the woman’s gaze lifted.
Izzie scooted out of the armchair. “Daddy!”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. Lustrous, chocolate eyes. He remembered the women at church talking about the new librarian Kiptohanock hired after old Mrs. Beal retired. But she was unlike any librarian he remembered from his boyhood days in Richmond.
The woman frowned. He’d been staring, mouth open. He closed his mouth with a snap and flushed.
Izzie flung herself at him, clasping him around the knees. He staggered and wrapped his arms around her torso as much to steady himself as to drag his eyes away from the new librarian.
“Where were you, Daddy? I’ve been waiting...”
The woman’s lips tightened.
“I’m sorry, little lady.” He kissed the top of Izzie’s curly hair. “My watch stopped. I was at the Sandpiper going over the last of the remodeling plans, and I lost track of time.”
The woman rose. Five foot sevenish to his six-foot height, he estimated. Folding her arms across her chest, she tapped one slim foot against the hardwood floor. Disapproval radiated from her set features.
“Izzie’s father, I presume?”
Not a great first impression. He grimaced. Since when did he care about impressing a woman? Especially one so...so sophisticated. Because that had turned out so well for him before.
“She’s been waiting a long time.” The woman gestured at the now-deserted library. “All the other children went home with their mothers ages ago.”
He winced. “As I said, I’m sorry.”
The woman raised her chin. “Anything could’ve happened to the child. A father shouldn’t be too busy to take care of his family.”
Anger surged at the woman’s arrogant assumptions. He bit off the harsh retort that rose to his lips. The desire to put the new librarian in her place.
Beautiful, maybe. Unfriendly, for sure. Strange, a woman like her would choose the public-pleasing profession of a librarian. ’Cause this woman had the social skills of a barracuda.
With his anything-but-stellar track record in the romance department, this was why he kept it just him and Izzie. Were all women as hard-hearted as Jessica? Or was it his misfortune to only run into those types?
“I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you...” He allowed his gaze to rake her face and the armchair full of books. A look he hadn’t utilized since he commanded Coasties before Jessica’s death prompted his abrupt career change. “Don’t let us keep you from your shelving.”
The woman’s eyes enlarged. “I’m not—” An interesting blush stained her cheeks.
Izzie tried to climb up his legs. Bending, he scooped his daughter into his arms. She was getting heavy. Too big to hold.
But he’d hold Izzie close as long as he could. Because besides Izzie and a run-down lighthouse, what else did he have in his life?
Izzie captured his face between her small, warm palms and wrenched his attention from less pleasant thoughts. “She’s Caroline. We had fun.”
At her words, the woman—Caroline Whoever—uncoiled a notch.
He reminded himself he’d been in the wrong. Not her job to babysit his child. He took a deep breath. “I apologize again. I’m doing the best I can.”
That hadn’t been enough for Jessica, though. And in Caroline’s equally cool appraisal of him, he felt his every deficiency flayed bare.
His lips twisted. He’d never been enough for anyone.
Izzie squeezed her legs around his waist and hung her arms around his neck.
Except maybe Izzie.
Izzie lunged, and he almost dropped her. “My books, Daddy.”
Caroline What’s-Her-Name blinked. “Oh.” She snagged hold of the seen-better-days library bag Izzie dragged along on every outing.
Weston took the bulging bag and sagged beneath its weight. “Leave any for the other children?”
His daughter giggled. “Daddy and I will see you next week, Caroline.”
“I’m not...” Caroline’s face did a fair imitation of Izzie sucking lemon rinds.
He gave the librarian a nice view of their backs. See her next week? He’d sit on the library porch while Izzie enjoyed story time if it meant avoiding another less-than-pleasant encounter with the stone-cold Caroline.
Who had the face of a Renaissance Madonna and the disposition of a killer shark.
Copyright © 2016 by Lisa Carter
ISBN-13: 9781488007460
Reuniting with the Cowboy
Copyright © 2016 by Shannon Taylor Vannatter
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
Reuniting with the Cowboy Page 21
