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If you hadn’t seen him, Charlie might not have lasted another day. He’s lucky to have you in his life.
In that schoolgirl-crush way, she’d thought he was talking about more than just the dog. She’d been head over heels for Luke, her heart breaking a little every time she saw him with her sister. But the Luke she remembered, the same one who had let down her sister when she’d gotten pregnant, had no more permanence than wet tape. She didn’t think that side of Luke had changed one bit—
But then there was the dog.
A dog required commitment. A home. A dependable adult.
Maybe Luke could handle Maddy. It was only two weeks, after all. A blip in time.
A test...
Was she really basing her decisions for Maddy on a dog, for Pete’s sake?
But what choice did she have? Maddy needed time, love and connection, and there was no better person to do that than the man who shared her DNA. Peyton had done her best, but even she had to admit her best might not be enough. Maybe spending time with Luke, with the man who had once loved her mother, would allow Maddy to heal.
And at the end of the two weeks, if Luke still wanted to be part of Maddy’s life, Peyton could make arrangements. Call up a lawyer, draw up a plan.
“I’ll do it,” Luke said, “but on one condition.”
Her gaze narrowed. “What?”
“I’m not going to be Uncle Luke or Friend Luke or anything else. I’m Dad. So you better figure out a way to tell my kid she has a father, and also that I’m not going anywhere two weeks from now. Or ever.”
Chapter Two (#ulink_919d1871-1c63-54c8-b5cd-198f6396aec1)
Two hours later, Luke sat in a lounge chair in the shade of the lanai roof at the back of his rental house, nursing a beer that should have taken the edge off his hangover, but instead churned in his stomach. Across from him there were splashes and laughter and bawdy jokes, but he stayed where he was, feeling older than dirt.
A kid. He had a kid.
He let the thought settle over him, but it didn’t become any more real or concrete. He’d seen the photo of Madelyne, seen his eyes in her wide blue ones, but still couldn’t compute him + Susannah = Kid.
Being a parent meant being responsible. Growing up. Stepping off the hamster wheel of parties and hangovers. Considering he had a party going on right in front of him while he was still battling the hangover from yesterday, Luke Barlow clearly wasn’t stepping off that hamster wheel anytime soon.
Except a part of him had been growing weary of the life he’d been leading, had been for some time. The problem was whether he was ready to change. Or if he was even capable of change.
Change like agreeing to spend time with a four-year-old? It didn’t sound hard—what did a four-year-old do anyway?—but it sounded like something better suited for a relative or a good friend or someone other than Luke. Someone with experience. Someone who knew what to do when a kid cried or fell down.
Except he was Maddy’s father. A father should know what to do. A father should have no problem spending time with his daughter.
A father who hadn’t known he was a father until Peyton showed up on his doorstep. From the minute she started speaking, the world had dropped away. Part of it was the bomb she’d exploded in his life, part of it was Peyton herself.
Hell, he hadn’t even recognized her at first. Gone was the geeky girl who had tagged along with him and Susannah. The girl who more often than not carried a book in her backpack and buried her nose in the pages every spare second. That girl had turned into a beautiful woman, the kind who stopped traffic, made a man forget every coherent thought in his head.
And lingered in his mind long after she had pulled out of his driveway.
Peyton had always had this way about her, an air his mother had called it, that wrapped people in a spell. Okay, maybe not people. Maybe just him. Because today he’d agreed to the one thing a man like him should never do—
To be a responsible role model and parent. Ha. Luke had his position in the family—sandwiched between his military hero younger brother and his overachieving CEO elder brother—serving as the family screwup. Yeah, he’d been good at sports, but he’d never been good enough to become a star player, the way Jack had been a leader in the military or the big-bucks moneymaker Mac was. Maybe it was because Luke hadn’t found his niche, his place in the world. Or maybe it was because he was no good at doing responsible or role model or anything even close.
He’d tried, once. Tried to be the kind of guy someone else could rely on.
And he’d screwed it up. Royally. No one talked about the fallout from that day, the accident that had left Jeremiah in a wheelchair. Nowadays, Jeremiah rarely left his house, rarely returned Luke’s texts, rarely did anything other than play video games in the dark and wait for his life to unwind.
Damn.
Luke twirled the beer in his hands, but didn’t drink. The weight on his shoulders hung too heavy for him to do anything other than sit there and wonder if Peyton had made a huge mistake in bringing a kid into his life.
Not a kid. His own child. His daughter.
Ben Carver plopped down into the seat beside Luke, clutching a nearly empty beer, his hair wet from the pool. Ben grinned, and the gesture lightened the heavy air around Luke. Friends for almost all their lives, Luke and Ben had been named Most Likely to Cut Class in high school, gone on more adventures in twenty-six years than most people went on in eighty and served as each other’s wingman almost every night of the week. They were bachelors—and damned good at it, if you asked anyone in Stone Gap. If there were ever two men in this town least likely to grow up, it would have been Luke and Ben.
Except now Luke had a child, and that changed things. A lot.
“You going to sit there all day or join the party?” Ben said. “There are some hot girls waiting for you to join them in the pool. Actually, they’re waiting for me, but they said you could tag along. Pity dates.”
“Yeah.” Luke tipped his beer in the direction of Tiffany and Marcia and...Beth? Barbara? He couldn’t remember. There were three other women in the pool, and two other guys Luke had known since high school. A typical Sunday afternoon at Luke’s house, a small rental he’d had for about a year now. He should have been enjoying himself. Should have been in that pool, living it up with Beth/Barbara/whatever her name was. But his mind kept straying back to Peyton, back to the earnest intent in her eyes, to the obvious protectiveness she felt for Madelyne and, most of all, to the way Peyton had dropped a detour into his life. “Nah. Got a lot on my mind.”
“Dude, it’s Sunday. Party day. Not the time to think about anything other than Coors or Yuengling.”
Luke propped his elbows on his knees, let the beer bottle dangle from his fingers. “You ever think we’re too old for this? That maybe it’s about time we grew up?”
“What is wrong with you? Hell no, we’re not too old for this. When your AARP card comes in the mail, then maybe it might be time to grow up.”
Luke smiled, but the gesture felt flat. “Jeremiah might disagree.”
“Jesus, Luke. What the hell is wrong with you? Why’d you go and bring that crap up?”
Luke saw his own reflection in the mirror of Ben’s sunglasses. The image seemed distorted, small, as if there was a lot more Luke could do to be a bigger presence. “Just thinking through my life choices, that’s all.”
“Well, that isn’t going to get you anywhere but depressed. And that doesn’t work on party day.” Ben clinked his bottle against Luke’s. “So come on, have another beer and let’s go join our hot friends.”
Luke glanced over at the others. “You go. I’m going into town. Pick up some snacks and beer.”
“We have plenty—”
But Luke was already out of his seat and heading into the house. He left the full beer on the countertop, threw on a T-shirt, then climbed into his Jeep and headed toward downtown Stone Gap. He didn’t need to go to the store. Didn’t need to do a damned thing today except mow the lawn, but for some reason, he couldn’t stay in that lounge chair for one more second.
All he could think about was his daughter. With her blond ringlets and blue eyes and a wide, toothy smile.
She still didn’t feel any more real. He needed to know, to see, to really believe. Luke drove for twenty minutes, passing through downtown Stone Gap, turning right at Gator’s Garage, closed on Sunday, as it had been for the past forty years, then another left and a right before he realized where he had ended up.
The Stone Gap Hotel sat atop a tiny hill a few blocks outside town. The white wood clapboard building wasn’t doing much to live up to its name, considering it held about twenty rooms and room service was provided by Tony’s Pizza across the street, but it was the only thing Stone Gap had for out-of-towners, and this, Luke figured, was where Peyton would be staying. Peyton’s mother, long divorced, had died a few years back, and that meant Peyton had no real family left in town, so the hotel was the most logical choice.
Luke tried to imagine that—a loss of the family that had surrounded him since birth. Two brothers, a mother, father, numerous aunts and uncles and cousins, a whole army of family at every holiday and gathering. Peyton had always been part of the little Reynolds crew of three, and now two of those three were gone.
Except for Madelyne, her niece. Susannah’s daughter. His daughter. A connection between two families, one big and boisterous, one so tiny it almost didn’t exist.
He parked, got out of the car and headed up to the front desk. The blonde behind the desk smiled when he entered the air-conditioned office. Karen Fleming had been a year behind Luke in high school and had dated half the football team—but not Luke. Something Karen tried to rectify every time she saw him.
“Why, if it isn’t Luke Barlow here to brighten my day.” She flashed him a broad smile and leaned over the counter, a move which brought the tops of her breasts into view. Any other day, Luke might have flirted back, but not today.
“Is Peyton staying here?” he asked.
Karen pouted. “And I thought you were here to see me.”
“Peyton?” Luke prompted again.
Karen sighed. “Room ten. Down the hall and on the right. What’s she doing back in town anyway?”
Luke was already heading away from the front desk. The maroon-and-gold-carpeted hall muffled his footsteps as he passed the other faux oak doors and stopped before room ten, his stomach doing backflips.
Sorry, Peyton, I’m not father material.
He shifted his weight. Tried another tack in his head.
Sorry, Peyton, but I can’t do this. I’m...busy.
Oh, yeah, that sounded even better. Just a simple Sorry, Peyton, I can’t was all he should say. Except that sounded empty, too. None of the three options captured what he really wanted to say—
No way, no how, do I want to be responsible for a kid that I didn’t know I had; a kid I have no idea how to connect with; a kid who is a mystery to me.
A kid who has no other living parent but me.
Well, hell. That was the truth, right there. Madelyne had no one but him, and her aunt. If he didn’t step up, then, for all intents and purposes, as Peyton had said, this child would be an orphan.
How could he possibly say no?
He raised his hand, but the door opened before he could knock, and the four-year-old from the photo came barreling out and straight into him. He let out an oomph.
“Sowwy,” she said, backing up and sending Peyton an uncertain glance.
And in that moment, there was no doubt. He could see his eyes, Susannah’s high cheekbones, in Madelyne’s face. She could have been a carbon copy of their baby pictures.
This was his daughter. The thought settled into him, not as foreign now.
“Madelyne, don’t run—” Peyton stopped in the doorway. Her eyes widened. “Luke. What are you doing here?”
“I...uh...” His brain cells misfired when he took in what Peyton was wearing. Earlier today, it had been a soft peach dress that swirled around her legs, with low heels, and her straight blond hair down around her shoulders. But in the interim, she had changed into a dark green two-piece bathing suit and one of those knitted cover-up things that seemed designed to entice a man with flashes of skin and swimsuit. Her hair was swept up into a clip, with a few tendrils tickling against her long, elegant neck. Holy hell, Peyton Reynolds had grown up. And done it well.
He cleared his throat, refocused his mind on why he had come here. “I wanted to talk to you.”
She put a protective hand on her niece. Madelyne stepped back, ducking her head and pressing her body against Peyton’s leg. Madelyne turned big blue eyes—the same eyes Luke saw in the mirror every morning—up toward the stranger at the door.
Her eyes widened and she shrank farther behind Peyton. Damn. The kid was scared of him. She didn’t know him.
And whose fault is that? a little voice whispered in his head.
That was the moment that cemented it for Luke. He might suck at being a father, might have just found out he even was a father, but no way was he going to let another four years go by with his kid thinking he was a scary stranger.
Peyton gave Madelyne a reassuring squeeze. “This is not a good time, Luke. We were just heading for the pool.”
Not that he’d expected some instant bond just because he and the kid shared some DNA. But her wide-eyed trepidation made him feel like an interloper.
If he had a snowball’s chance in hell of changing the look in Madelyne’s eyes, then he better start now. “How about I join you?”
Surprise colored Peyton’s features. “Don’t you have other things on your agenda today?”
The way she said other things almost sounded as if she was jealous. Which was impossible, considering he and Peyton had never been involved, never been anything more than friends.
“Not anymore,” Luke said, though he was pretty sure the party would go on, with or without him. Seeing Peyton now, in that teeny-tiny bikini partially hidden by the knit dress, made whatever was happening back at Luke’s house seem very, very far away. To his recollection he had never seen her wearing a bikini before. And it made him realize that Peyton Reynolds had some very nice curves.
Peyton gave him a dubious glance. “Okay. Let me grab another towel.” Maddy followed her, as close as an extra leg.
“Auntie P, who’s that man?”
Peyton, her hand halfway to the towel, turned and looked at Luke. Her eyes were wide and scared, like Madelyne’s had been a second ago. The look said Don’t upset this little girl’s world. She’s been through enough.
He wanted to tell his daughter the truth, but some instinct deep in his gut said springing the fatherhood connection on a preschooler wasn’t the best choice. What was it that Peyton had said? Maddy had had enough uncertainty for now.
It would upset her world, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He might not be good at being a father, might not have the slightest clue where to start with a child he didn’t even know, but he knew this much—dropping that shocking news into the life of a kid who’d just suffered a major loss would be a stupid move on his part.
She needed get to know him first, and he needed to get comfortable with the idea of being a dad. He thought of his own father, of the impromptu wrestling matches in the living room; the way Bobby Barlow had cheered for each of his boys at every sporting event, all the times he’d taken them fishing or showed them how to fix a broken gate. That was being a dad. Walking into a room and announcing fatherhood was not. Right now, the truth was, he wasn’t a dad at all; he was just the sperm donor.
And as scary as it seemed, a part of him wanted to change that.
“I’m a friend of your mom’s and your aunt’s,” Luke said, taking a step into the room. Relief flooded Peyton’s features. “Just a friend.”
He bent down and put out a hand. “I’m Luke.”
Madelyne slid her tiny hand into Luke’s, her fingers as delicate as twigs. But she had a firm grip and her gaze was direct and assessing. It was weird, Luke thought, holding the hand of this tiny person who was half him.
“I’m Madelyne,” she said. “I’m almost four.”
“Nice to meet you, Madelyne.” He shook hands with her, then gave her a grin that he hoped spelled trustworthy and friendly. “Is it okay if I go swimming with you?”
Madelyne bit her lip. Behind her, Peyton did the same, probably completely unaware she was mimicking her niece. There was a hushed anticipation in the air, a sense of worry and fear, and Luke got the feeling that this moment would set the tone for what was to come.
“I dunno.” She cocked her head, sending a few of those curls springing off her shoulder. “Do you like doggies?”
The non sequitur caught him off guard. “Uh, yeah, sure. I love doggies. Even have one of my own. His name is Charlie.”
That made her brighten a little. “Can he come swimmin’ wif us?”
“I didn’t bring him today, but if you come over to my house, you can see him. Would you like to come over sometime? With your aunt, of course.” He felt as nervous as a teenager waiting on Madelyne’s answer. Here he was, asking his own daughter, whose bright pink cheeks made her look like a porcelain doll, if she wanted to come over. If Madelyne said no, or shied away again, Luke would take it as a sign. Back away and leave her in the undoubtedly highly capable hands of Peyton.
Madelyne toed at the carpet, then met his gaze with her own. Her eyes were dark pools, unreadable and still. “You promise? I can play with the doggy? I love doggies. They’re so furry and soft and they give kisses and eat cookies and play lots.”
“I promise you can play with Charlie. Cross my heart.” Luke made the gesture across his chest, and for a second, he was four again himself, swearing allegiance to some pact he’d made with his brothers. Cross my heart and hope to die, they’d said back then, in that cavalier way of kids who thought the world lasted forever and mothers never died too young. “Sound good?”
