The Instant Family Man Page 3

  “What do you mean?”

  “She won’t talk about it. Won’t cry about it. Just acts as if it never happened, except for being really clingy to me, as if she’s afraid I’m going to disappear any second. I’ve been trying to juggle my job in Baltimore and be her surrogate mom and help her through this and...” Failure wasn’t a word in Peyton’s vocabulary. She had never failed at anything in her life and refused to fail now. “And I think she and I need a recharge. A vacation. So I came here, where I can have two weeks to just be with her and take her places and see her smile again. And I thought it would be good for her if she got to know her father.”

  “If you wanted me to be a parent, then someone should have told me about her four years ago.” He got to his feet. Charlie snapped to attention, pressing his body against Luke’s, the dog’s tail moving in a slow wag, as if he was worried about his master. “I take it she doesn’t know who I am? Or that I even exist?”

  “No. Over the years, Susannah chose not to talk about you to Maddy. I haven’t, either, because...well, I assumed you didn’t want to be an active part of her life.”

  “You assumed wrong. So if I see her, what am I supposed to be?” He scowled. “Temporary Uncle Luke or something?”

  Peyton could see the Mustang in his driveway, imagine the parties he probably had in his pool. Her niece had suffered enough heartbreak for one lifetime, and the last thing Peyton wanted was for Maddy’s father to disappoint her. If he hadn’t grown up, if he wasn’t ready to be a responsible part of her life, then it was better not to set Maddy up for disappointment. “I think it might be best if I tell her that you’re an old friend of mine.”

  He snorted. “Hedging your bets in case I’m not a good influence?”

  “Giving you an out, if you want it. My offer still stands. If at the end of two weeks you don’t have any wish to be a part of Maddy’s life, you can sign over custody and I’ll raise her myself. I just wanted to give you an opportunity to step up.” Peyton met his gaze head-on, not on the ridges of his chest, or the way his bathing suit hugged his hips. “Maddy needs someone she can count on, now more than ever. And that means if you’re still dating everything with breasts and a smile, still driving a car meant for a sixteen-year-old and still working a job no more permanent than snow in North Carolina, then maybe you aren’t the best choice to be in her life.”

  He took a step closer to her, so close she could feel the heat from his body. She could reach out and touch him, feel those hard muscles beneath her palm, trail a finger along that dark V that led to the parts of him the bathing suit kept hidden. Why hadn’t that crush died long ago? Why did she still find the man attractive?

  “If I’m so terrible, why do you want me around her?”

  Her breath hitched a little and she cursed inwardly. “I never said you were terrible.”

  His smile tipped up on one side, and his eyes held that charm she remembered. “You’re not the only one who’s changed a lot since high school, Peyton.”

  “I’m counting on that, Luke. Your daughter is, too.” She paused and squared her shoulders. Calm, cool, collected again, though with every second the heat simmering in his blue eyes made it exceptionally hard to maintain anything approaching cool and calm. “So, will you be there for Maddy? At least, for the next two weeks? Will you try?”

  His gaze lifted over her head, to the swing a few dozen yards away. He didn’t say anything for so long, she wondered if he was going to answer.

  “Just little bits of time,” Peyton said. “An hour here or there, maybe more if you’re up to it. Nothing big. I don’t...”

  “Trust me with her.”

  “Well, no. She doesn’t know you and I haven’t seen you in almost five years.”

  “You know me. I’m not perfect, but I’m a decent man at my core, Peyton.” His gaze locked on hers, and Peyton’s heart stuttered again. “Trust me.”

  That was the hardest part. Trusting anyone with Maddy. Susannah had always been busy and scattered, flitting in and out of Maddy’s life like a butterfly. Peyton was the one who had enrolled her in preschool, cut the crust off her sandwiches, enforced a bedtime, set all the doctor and dentist appointments. To let someone else control even five minutes of Maddy’s life took a Herculean amount of trust.

  Charlie crossed over to Peyton, nosing at her hand until she lifted it to scratch his ears. It almost seemed as if the dog remembered her, remembered that day they had found him. More than five years ago, she had been walking home from her part-time job with Luke—Susannah had ditched her promise to drive Peyton home and headed off with her girlfriends. Luke had offered to walk Peyton home. Along the way, they’d found this mutt, shivering and shaking and curled into a ball under a tree. No collar, no tags, nothing but skin and bones and big eyes. Luke had scooped the dog into his arms and carried him a mile back to his house and straight into the kitchen, ignoring his mother’s protests.

  Luke had fed the dog the steaks defrosting on the counter, then given him a bath in the second-floor tub. We should call him Charlie, because he had an angel looking out for him, Luke had said. Then he’d looked in Peyton’s eyes, in that way he had of making her feel as if nothing else existed in the world but this man, this moment.

  An angel? she had asked.

  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

  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 t
hree 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.