“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in you.”

“And I’d be lying if I said I was interested in you.” Peyton brushed at her skirt as if kissing him had left her dusty, or as if she just wanted to whisk away the memory of his touch. “I'm here so you have a chance to get to know your daughter. Nothing more. And I mean that, Luke. Nothing more.”

“Then why did you kiss me back?”

“I …” She opened her mouth, closed it. “I didn't mean to. I got caught up in the moment and—”

“Overcome by the heat? Swept away by the romantic atmosphere of a children's zoo?” He shifted closer. Still, she kept her distance, stood strong and cool, dispassionate. If he hadn't been there himself, he wouldn't believe that ten seconds ago this same woman had been leaning into him, letting out soft mews of desire. “Don't pretend you didn't enjoy that. Don't pretend it was nothing.”

* * *

The Barlow Brothers: Nothing tames a Southern man faster … than true love!

The Instant Family Man
Shirley Jump

www.millsandboon.co.uk

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author SHIRLEY JUMP spends her days writing romance so she can avoid the towering stack of dirty dishes, eat copious amounts of chocolate and reward herself with trips to the mall. Visit her website at www.shirleyjump.com for author news and a booklist, and follow her at facebook.com/shirleyjump.author for giveaways and deep discussions about important things like chocolate and shoes.

To my husband, Jeff, because he is amazing—as a dad, as a husband and as a man.

He’s the family man I always dreamed of meeting and am blessed to have married.

Contents

Cover

Excerpt

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

When Peyton Reynolds was a little girl, tearing through her grandmother’s house on her way to whatever excitement waited outside the front door, her grandma Lucy would reach out, corral her granddaughter in a fresh-baked-bread-scented hug and say, “Goodness gracious, child, you gotta slow down. Life is just gonna pass you by if you don’t learn to take a breath or two.”

Peyton never had learned to slow down. She’d taken every day of her life ten steps at a time, running from high school to college, graduating in two and a half years instead of four, and putting in more hours at Winston Interior Design than any other designer—earning her four promotions in three years. Then, a month before her twenty-third birthday, her world turned upside down when her older sister Susannah died in a car accident, suddenly leaving forty pounds of cuteness and need in Peyton’s full-time care.

In that instant, Peyton had put the brakes on her rising career while she figured out how to be a surrogate mom to her niece, Madelyne, and still stay on the fast track in the design industry. She’d been so very close to a promotion to associate, just a step below her goal of partner, but in the past four weeks, everything she had worked for started to fall apart. And it wasn’t just her career self-destructing that had Peyton worried...

It was the quiet. The words unspoken, the tears unshed.

Maddy hadn’t grieved, hadn’t asked about her mother, hadn’t wanted to talk about it. She’d gone on playing with her toys and eating her meals and brushing her teeth, but her mood was more somber, her heart more distant. Her laughter dulled, almost silenced.

That sad quiet was what finally spurred Peyton to go back home from Maryland, arriving yesterday in Stone Gap, North Carolina, one of those small Southern towns where it seemed the world stopped spinning. Where the trees and green landscape seemed to offer peace, and quiet, and healing. And where the last man on earth she wanted to see lived. A man who had no idea she was about to upend his world in a very big way.

For a very good reason. Peyton could only pray that he would see it that way, too.

“Auntie P?”

The soft voice of Madelyne, four years old next week and as beautiful as a ray of sunshine, rose from the space on the carpet between the two double beds in their hotel room. Peyton’s only niece, and the only real family she had left. There were times in the days since her sister had died that Peyton wondered how she could move forward, take a breath, without letting the grief drown her. Then she’d look at Maddy, at her bouncy blond curls and her lopsided, toothy smile, and a blanket of warmth would surround Peyton’s heart. For Maddy, Peyton would do absolutely anything.

Peyton came around the beds, then bent down and offered her niece a warm smile. “What do you need, kiddo?”

“Can you play dolls with me? I gots a house set up and everything.” Maddy waved toward an empty suitcase tipped on its side, flanked by a quartet of blond-haired, blue-eyed Barbie dolls in various stages of mismatched glamour. The moment Maddy had arrived back in Stone Gap, she had made herself at home in the hotel room, taking over every square inch of space with toys and clothes, a bright explosion among the tired and boring cream-colored decor.

“Wish I could, but remember I told you I had a meeting this morning? My friend Cassie is coming over to watch you.”

“I like Cassie,” Maddy said. “She always likes to play dolls.”

“She sure does, buttercup!” The loud, happy voice of Cassie Bertram boomed into the room, followed immediately by the woman herself—platinum blonde, dressed in a bright pink sundress and flip-flops sporting giant plastic flowers. Cassie had always been larger than life, and that was part of what Peyton loved about her best friend.

A peacock, Grandma Lucy had dubbed Cassie, for all her sass and snap. Cassie lit up a room when she walked into it and lived her life out loud, in ways that Peyton could only envy. Cassie had traveled all the opposite roads from Peyton—married shortly after high school, settling down in Stone Gap with her husband, and then becoming a mother to five kids while working part-time in the school office. Cassie did the bake sales and cookie walks and all the craziness that came with kids, and more often than not, she sported glitter glue on her arms from the craft project du jour. She’d been Peyton’s first call when Peyton had decided to come back home for a couple of weeks, and her biggest support system in the chaotic weeks since Maddy had become Peyton’s charge. Cassie had visited Peyton often enough over the years that Maddy knew her well and loved her like another aunt.

“I’ve got a couple hours before I have to pick up the youngest rug rat at preschool,” Cassie said to Peyton. “Is that enough time?”

“More than enough. It won’t take me long to tell a certain someone that he should...” She glanced down at her motherless niece, then stepped toward the window and motioned for Cassie to follow, saying “Be a grown-up. And do his part. Or walk away for good.”

Cassie grinned. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall to watch this particular conversation unfold.”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll make a logical, reasonable argument, and he’ll see the wisdom in my plan.”

“Logical and reasonable? With that hunk of testosterone?” Cassie grinned. “Good luck, honey.”

Hunk of testosterone. Definitely three words that described Luke Barlow. Or had when Peyton had been a young, infatuated high school freshman, watching the much older Luke turn his charm on Susannah. Her sister’s old boyfriend—and also Maddy’s irresponsible, never-involved father. According to Susannah, he’d washed his hands of her from the day she told him she was pregnant. She might have let it go, but Peyton sure as hell wasn’t going to let the man get away with shirking his fatherly responsibilities, not for one more second. Especially now, when Peyton was nearly at her wit’s end. Every decision Peyton made right now was driven by the urgent need to make Maddy whole again.

“How’s the little peanut doing?” Cassie asked softly, as if reading Peyton’s mind.

“Same. Won’t talk about it. She plays and eats and does what she’s told, but there’s a...wall there. I can’t get past it.”

Cassie put a hand on Peyton’s shoulder. “It’ll get better.”

Peyton sighed. That was what she had been telling herself for a month now, and if anything, things were getting worse, not better. “I hope so. And I really hope I’m making the right decision today.”

“Auntie P?” Maddy rose, peered over the bed at Peyton. “Are you leavin’?”

“Just for a little bit, sweetie.”

Maddy’s face flushed, and her right hand curled tight around the hem of her shirt. “Are you comin’ right back?”

Peyton swung over to Maddy and lowered herself to her niece’s level. “Right back, sweetie. I promise. Cassie will be here the whole time, and she’s going to play dolls with you.”

Maddy’s lower lip quivered. “How long’s a little bit?”

Peyton glanced at Cassie. These were the days that made it hard. Explaining to Maddy that just because she walked out the door didn’t mean she was going to disappear forever. “Faster than you can watch Frozen.”

“And we’ll sing ‘Let it Go’ together, munchkin.” Cassie grinned at Maddy. “I’ll dub you honorary princess for the morning, too.”

“Okay,” Maddy said, though there wasn’t much enthusiasm in her voice. She dropped back onto her Barbie-riddled carpet space and went back to her dolls. Every couple of seconds, her gaze flicked to Peyton, and her shoulders tensed with worry.

Cassie and Peyton crossed to the other side of the bed and lowered their voices again. “You’re doing the right thing, Pey. That poor little thing needs family and you need help. And if that foolish man can’t be bothered to spend time with that precious gift from heaven...” Cassie cast a smile in Maddy’s direction. “I’d be glad to keep an eye on that little doll.”

“Thanks, but you have your hands full with that basketball team you gave birth to and everything else you’re doing. Besides, it’s his responsibility to do the right thing.” And the sooner Peyton got there to make sure Luke did that, the better. Peyton grabbed her purse, then darted over to plant a quick kiss on Maddy’s cheek. “See you in a little bit, sweetie. Be good for Cassie.”

“I will.” Maddy’s eyes were round and full, but she pressed her lips together and affected a brave front.

“A little bit,” Peyton said softly, ruffling Maddy’s curls. “I promise.”

At the door, Cassie drew Peyton into a tight, quick hug. “Good luck. And go easy on Luke. He’s a flirt, for sure, but he’s always been a nice guy and maybe he had a good reason for what he did.”

“The only good reason is being stuck in a cave for the past four years. Something I can arrange, if need be.” Peyton grinned.

“I hope you’re only half kidding,” Cassie called after her. Peyton just grinned again and slipped out the door.

But when she climbed into her car and started the engine, the frustration and worry she’d been feeling for weeks flared anew. Luke Barlow was the town’s most eligible bachelor for as long as anyone could remember—one of those charming, handsome, could-do-no-wrong playboys—but who had never had anything to do with his daughter. A daughter who had lost her mother, and desperately needed a caring father.

Peyton remembered those tearful conversations with Susannah, who said she told Luke about the baby the minute she’d taken the home pregnancy test. When he’d told her she was on her own, nineteen-year-old Susannah had left town, leaving behind her chaotic childhood home—the Reynolds parental storm mitigated too rarely by visits to grandma’s when they were little—determined to raise her baby alone. Peyton had followed soon after, switching colleges to be near her sister, and working part-time all through school, helping Susannah financially, emotionally—in all the ways Luke should have and never did.

How could anyone not want to be a part of Maddy’s life? From the second she had held her niece in her arms, Peyton had fallen in love. She’d spent every spare minute with Susannah and Maddy, even moving Susannah into her condo in Baltimore so she could be sure they had a solid roof over their heads and a full refrigerator. It had been odd at first, coming home to the responsibilities of a full house when she was barely a grown-up herself, but Peyton had found she liked having a pseudo-family. And though her relationship with her sister had been rocky at best—the two of them butting heads daily on Susannah’s refusal to give up her partying habits—the blooming bond with Maddy had been the highlight of Peyton’s days.

How long’s a little bit?

The heartbreaking words from her niece, so unsure and lost in the wake of her mother’s death, told Peyton that Maddy needed a father, now more than ever, and the days of Luke Barlow running around town, as footloose as a loose kite in the wind, were over.

Peyton double-checked the address, then drove the few miles across town to Luke’s house, located only a few blocks away from where the Barlow boys had grown up. She parked her car, strode up the walk, then pressed the doorbell, reminding herself to try to be calm, logical. To keep emotion out of it.

Uh, yeah, considering the riot in her gut right now, she had a better chance of being hit by a snowstorm.

The bell chimed, a dog barked, and then...nothing. Peyton waited in the hot North Carolina air, while the cicadas buzzed in the deep woods to the east side of the house.

Luke lived in a modest bungalow, which surprised her. A house smacked of dependability. A mortgage or a lease. Permanence. She would have never thought he would buy a house, much less live in one.

An old wooden swing much like the one Grandma Lucy had hung for Peyton when she was a little girl drifted in the breeze on ropes hanging from an oak tree just down the hill sloping away from the driveway. The painted white mailbox hoisted a bright red mail-to-take flag, while an audience of pansies waved in the shade underneath. The whole property seemed to beckon her back in time, to the days when life had been unfettered, uncomplicated.

She rang the bell again. Waited some more. The dog kept barking, but there was no movement from inside. A restored Mustang convertible sat in the driveway, like some throwback to the ’80s. Peyton shifted her weight, then pressed the bell one more time. If there was any justice in the world, Luke would have gotten bald and fat in the years since she’d last seen him.

The dog barked again, then shushed. A clatter of footsteps, and a moment later, the door was opened.

Luke Barlow stood on the other side, looking sleep-rumpled and scruffy with a five o’clock shadow dusting his chin. Her gut tensed, her breath caught. Definitely not bald or fat. At all. If anything, he looked better than he did when he was in high school, damn him.

“What can I do for you?” he said.

There wasn’t a hint of recognition in his eyes. She told herself she wasn’t disappointed. After all, she’d grown up a lot in the past five years, ditched the nerdy glasses and khaki pants for contacts and skirts. She’d let her hair grow long, made workouts a daily item on her to-do list and developed more curves than she’d had at graduation. When she was younger, she’d been the annoying little sister, while outgoing, flamboyant Susannah had always taken center stage. Now, though, she was an adult. A woman.

Hopefully, a woman to be reckoned with.

“I take it you don’t remember me,” she said. “I’m Peyton. Susannah Reynolds’s younger sister.”

Now recognition dawned in his eyes. His gaze swept over her, lit surprise in his features as he took in her dress, low heels, long hair. “Peyton? Peyton Reynolds? Holy hell, I haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing here?”

Luke’s deep Southern voice slid through her like honey drizzled over toast. Once upon a time, she’d had a crush on him. But that was a long time in the past, and a lot had happened in the years since. Except his damned voice still made parts of her warm.

She drew herself up. Calm, cool, collected, that was her. Maybe if she thought it enough, the words would be true. “I came by to...see you.”

She’d meant to say talk to you, but her eyes lit on Luke’s tall, trim frame, and the word stuttered into see. He was wearing a bathing suit, the dark blue trunks hanging low on his hips, exposing a defined, tan chest, with a scattering of dark hair running a tempting line down the center of his belly. Her gaze followed that line, then she caught herself and jerked her attention back to his face. Damn. What was wrong with her? She was no longer a silly schoolgirl with an unrequited teenage crush on the older captain of the football team.

He quirked a lopsided grin. Busted. “See me?”

“Talk to you.”

The dog took advantage of the open door and scampered onto the porch. Luke waved a hand at the dog. “Charlie, sit.”

The terrier glanced up at Luke, as if to say, Do I really have to? When Luke didn’t relent, the dog let out a sigh and plopped onto the porch. His tail swished against the wooden floor, hopeful, anxious. It took a second, but then Peyton remembered.

“Is that...” Peyton asked, as she leaned forward, peering at the lopsided brown ears, the big chocolate eyes, “...the same dog?”

A slow smile spread across Luke’s face. “You remember that?”

Oh, she remembered a lot of things about Luke. Some memories that made her heart trip, some that tripped her common-sense alarms. “I thought you said you were going to bring him to a shelter.”

Luke shared his smile with the dog, then shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a softy.”

Peyton’s doubts about bringing Luke into Maddy’s life eased a fraction. But only a fraction. Just because the man had kept the dog they’d rescued years ago didn’t make him a suitable parent. And if he wasn’t going to be a good father figure, she was damned well going to make sure he either signed over custody or at least paid child support. He owed Maddy that much, at a minimum. Susannah might have been easy on Luke, but her younger sister had no intentions of doing the same. She needed to keep all that in mind and not get distracted by feelings half a decade old.

Luke gestured toward the wicker love seat and chair on the veranda. A ceiling fan swirled a lazy breeze over the white furniture and pale gray plank floor. Peyton’s gaze kept drifting to Luke’s bare chest. Damn, he looked good. Too good. He was distracting. Would it be rude to ask him to put on a shirt, so she could think with the rational side of her brain?

“So what brings you by?” Luke asked, settling into the love seat and draping one arm over the back.

She had thought this through on the long drive from Baltimore to Stone Gap. As much as she wanted to leap to the reason she was here, she needed to finesse the situation first. Feel Luke out. See if he had changed. Then she would decide which tactic to take. It was the way she approached her work—get a feel for the space, the dimensions, the history, the very air and let that influence the tone of her design. She perched on the opposite end of the small wicker couch. “Just wanted to catch up with some old friends while I was visiting town. I saw Cassie Bertram this morning and heard you were living on this side of town. I was in the area and thought I’d stop by. So, how have you been?”

If he thought her reasoning for coming to see him was strange, he didn’t show it. “Good. Can’t complain.”

Awkward silence. She flicked her gaze away from his chest—what did he have on there, magnets?—and at the clapboard siding. “Nice little house you have here.”

“Thanks. It’s a rental, but I like it a lot. Kinda growing on me. And it has a pool. Pretty much all I need is that and a fridge.” He grinned.

“To make it party central?”

He scoffed. “If I was eighteen, yeah, maybe. I’m still a pretty simple guy, Peyton. Though my mother keeps haunting garage sales and tries to talk me into crazy things like spice organizers, whatever the hell those are. Jack’s built me a table and chairs, so I guess you could say I’m settled in here.”

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the party-hard guy she remembered. Maybe he had matured a little. “Jack’s building furniture?”

“Building whatever he can with a hammer and nails. He likes working with his hands. I convinced him to get serious about that a few months ago, after he got home from Afghanistan and was kind of at loose ends, trying to figure out what to do next. Now he’s got business cards and orders and everything.”

“And Mac? How is he?” She hadn’t seen the oldest Barlow brother since graduation. He’d been the studious one, excelling in school, graduating at the top of the class.

Luke chuckled. “Still the rebel without a cause. Working a zillion hours a week at building the Maxwell Barlow empire, I’m sure.”

She wasn’t surprised. Jack had always been the adventurous one, strong and loyal, a good choice for the military. She had no doubt he’d be as excellent at furniture, putting the same care and detail into that job, as he had everything else in his life. Mac was the overachiever, constantly trying to do more, better and faster than anyone else. Luke had always sat square in the middle, great at sports and popularity, but so-so with academics. She didn’t remember him being particularly ambitious, but then again, none of the girls who had wilted at the sight of Luke cared if he only had a part-time job. Now, however, a regular paycheck was a necessity for supporting a child. “And, uh, where are you working now?”

He leaned back against the love seat. “Why does this feel like a quiz?”

“I’m just...curious.” She smiled. “Haven’t seen you in a long time and I was just catching up.”

“Yeah, catching up. That’s what we’re doing.” Reservations still lingered in his gaze, and she got the feeling he was assessing her as much as she was assessing him. “I’ve been working with my dad in his garage. Jack and I were helping him out back when he had his knee surgery, but now that Jack is getting busy with his new business and my dad is thinking about retiring, I’ve been there more often.” Luke ran a hand through his hair, and his eyes took on a faraway look for a moment. “The future of Gator’s Garage is still up in the air, though.”

“You aren’t going to take it over?”

“That’s a lot of responsibility. A lot of hours. And a long-term commitment.” He grinned again. “Those three things aren’t usually on my personal résumé.”

“I remember.” She tried to act as if it was a joke, but inside her chest, disappointment was sinking her dream of Luke being the parent that Maddy needed. Only now did Peyton realize how much she’d been hoping Luke would have grown up in the years since she’d last seen him, and that he would want to be an involved parent. Not that Peyton couldn’t raise Maddy on her own, but it would be good for Maddy to have a male role model, and even better, a biological parent who could be a big part of her life.

“So how about you?” Luke said. “You look...amazing.”

She blushed, and cursed herself for it. “Thanks.”

“You said you’re visiting Stone Gap. Where is home now?”

And the tables were turned. Because he was trying to beat her at her own game or because he was truly interested? “Baltimore. I’m an interior designer and I work with a relatively large firm there.”

He considered that and nodded. “Makes sense. You were always the kind of kid who wanted to make things more beautiful, leaving flowers in my manly tree forts and painting your bike’s spokes pink and purple. What am I saying? Kid? You’re a beautiful woman now.”

Two compliments in the space of a minute. The blush crept into her cheeks again, but she reminded herself that this was Luke, the man who could charm the leaves off the trees in the middle of summer.

“Well, thank you. Again.”

A car went past, its noisy muffler putting a pause in their conversation. “How’s your sister?” Luke asked.

She blinked. The air took on a chill, the sky seemed to darken. “You don’t know?”

“Know...what?”

Peyton drew in a breath, then pushed out the words. “Susannah was...” Her voice wavered, her breath skipped. Damn, why was this still so hard to say? “She was...killed in a car accident a month ago.”

Luke sat back against the seat, his face paling. “Really? That’s terrible. I hadn’t... I hadn’t heard. She was so young. Way too young.” He cursed, then leaned forward, his blue eyes intent on hers. “Oh, God, Peyton, I’m so sorry. Are you...okay?”

He touched her hand, a gesture of comfort, connection. The tight lock Peyton always held on her emotions loosened, and tears rushed to her eyes. She’d never expected him to ask her how she was. For a second, she wanted to tell the truth. I’m falling apart. My life is a mess. Everything I thought I had under control is careening off a cliff and for the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do. “I’m...I’m fine.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, his hand curling over hers, solid, there.

She started to speak, then realized he’d left off the most important part. No questions about his daughter? About how Maddy was coping with the loss of her mother? Did the man feel no remorse that he had left Susannah to fend for herself for so long?

She tugged her hand out of his, reached into her purse and withdrew her phone. Peyton turned the phone to face Luke. Maddy’s picture, a recent one from a happy day at the park shortly before Susannah died, filled the screen. “Aren’t you even going to ask how she’s doing?”

“Pretty girl,” Luke said. Charlie the dog padded over and lay down at Luke’s feet. “Is she yours?”

“No, she’s not mine. You know that. I can’t believe you don’t even recognize her.”

“I don’t know that kid at all, sorry.” Luke shrugged. “What is she, three? Four? Good age. They’re still cute then, but don’t have diapers. I think. I don’t know much about kids, though.”

“Because you have done your level best to avoid your own.” She stopped herself from adding, you selfish, self-centered jerk. Good thing she hadn’t fallen for that whole concerned-about-you act, with the nice little touch of his hand on hers.

“My own? My own what?” Luke met Peyton’s gaze, wariness creeping into his expression. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This is Madelyne. Your daughter. Remember?”

The words hung between them in the heavy, humid air, lead weights on the end of a fishing line. Luke’s mouth opened, closed. The cicadas kept up their steady hum in the heat.

“Mine? But how... What...” He shook his head, cast another long glance at the photo of Madelyne. “Is this some kind of joke? I don’t have a kid.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Luke. I know my sister told you about the baby and you wanted nothing to do with her. Left her to raise Maddy on her own. Well, now Maddy has lost her mother and I think it’s about damned time her father was responsible and helped take care of her or at least supported her financially. She’s gone through enough for one little girl.”

There, she’d said it. And without all the cursing that usually accompanied that lecture in her head.

Luke tapped the phone’s screen. “I don’t know anything about this kid, Peyton. I don’t know what your sister told you, but Susannah never told me she was pregnant.”

A doubt tickled the back of her mind. “She said she did, Luke. She told me a hundred times how you broke up with her the instant she said she was pregnant. Either way, how can you not see the truth when it’s right here? Don’t you see your eyes and your smile in that face?”

He took her phone and held it closer. He studied Maddy’s picture for a long, long time, then hesitated before handing the phone back, almost reluctantly. “Maybe. She does look like me, a lot like me. You gotta believe me, though, Peyton. I had no idea Susannah had a baby. That’s the God’s honest truth.”

Was it possible? Would Susannah lie? Her sister had never been the most conventional of women or mothers, but lying about something as big as this? Peyton couldn’t see why Susannah would do such a thing, even though the doubt still haunted her thoughts. Susannah, the irresponsible. Susannah, the flighty. Susannah, who had told lies to the grocery clerk and the bill collectors and the boss of the week. Would she really have lied to her younger sister—about Maddy?

“Well, now you know. And if you want proof, I am more than happy to pick up one of those mail-in DNA tests. We’ll have results in less than two weeks.”

“You have all the bases covered,” he said.

“I have to. Someone has to be responsible here, and right now, that’s me.” Peyton started to get to her feet, suddenly anxious to be out of there, to go back to Maddy and hug her niece. “Once the DNA test proves you are Maddy’s father, I expect you to support her financially, if nothing else.”

He reached out, captured her hand. The touch cemented her in place, unnerved her and had her glancing at his chest again. God, what was wrong with her? Why did she keep getting so off track?

“What, that’s it? You come here, tell me I have a kid, tell me I need to do my part, then run off?”

She didn’t want to tell him she was rattled by the idea that Susannah could have lied. That her years of righteous indignation might have been wrong. That she wanted to get out of here, so she could breathe, digest it, get her mind back on track. “I’m not running off. I’m just going back to my hotel. I’m in town for a couple of weeks, should you want to discuss this further.” Two weeks, that’s all she had, to help Maddy feel grounded again, and then Peyton could go back to work and start building a solid foundation for the next phase of their lives.

“Should I want to discuss this further? Hell, yes, I want to discuss this further! Is the kid with you?”

“The kid is named Madelyne. And yes, she’s at the hotel, with Cassie. But don’t worry about it. I have it all under control.” She nodded toward the house, the bachelor pad with a fridge and a pool. “I’m sorry for interrupting whatever...fun you have going on. I only came here to tell you about her, because she needs...”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. Right now, Peyton wasn’t sure what Maddy needed. The child psychologist Peyton had taken Maddy to had said the little girl needed time, space, love. Three things Peyton thought she’d been giving Maddy in heaps, but it hadn’t worked. Nothing had brought Maddy out of her quiet little shell.

“She needs her family, and right now, that’s just me,” Peyton said, her voice catching again, damn it. “You’re her family, too, whether you accept it or not, and I’m asking you to either be a part of her life and get to know her, or...”

“Or what?” Luke said.

Peyton drew herself up, all business again, pushing that moment of vulnerability away. She tugged the papers out of her purse and flashed them at him. Peyton Reynolds, nothing if not prepared. “Sign over custody once and for all. The one thing Maddy doesn’t need any more of is uncertainty. I need to make some decisions for her future, and I need to know if those decisions include you or not.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Peyton, you are springing a lot on me in a very short period of time.” Luke ran a hand through his hair. It gave him that mussed, straight-from-bed look, and something in Peyton’s gut flipped. “I...I’m still processing the fact that I have a kid.”

“Like I said, you don’t need to accept this responsibility if you don’t want to. So here, just sign.” She drew out a pen from her bag and turned it in his direction. All she wanted was to be done here, done talking to Luke Barlow and all the questions he had dropped into her world.

He shook his head. “Hang on a second. I’m not signing anything yet. You show up on my doorstep, tell me I have a kid. And now you’re giving me a hard time for not being ready for this news? Susannah kept this from me for four years, and here you are, accusing me of being a terrible father without knowing the whole story. Maybe things would have been different if she’d told me, but she didn’t, and now this is hitting me. Give me five minutes at least to digest it all before you stomp out of here in a self-righteous fit.”

“I am not—” An angry retort sprang to her lips, but she cut it off. He was right. She had just dumped a lot on his plate. Whether he’d been a jerk four years ago or not wasn’t the issue anymore. If Luke wanted to be part of Maddy’s life now, she had to give him a chance. Maddy deserved that.

Peyton took in a deep breath, let it out. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m just at my breaking point here trying to be a parent to Maddy, and I need...help.”

Damn, it grated on Peyton’s nerves to say that. She was the kind of woman who could do any task, by herself.

Any task but heal a wounded child who had lost her center.

“Whatever you need. Just say the word.”

She hadn’t expected his easy, quick response. She shouldn’t be surprised. The Luke she’d known—the Luke she had once fallen for—had been as fast to forgive as he was to lend a hand to a friend. He might not be big on commitment or permanence or anything approaching a long-term relationship, but he was one of those guys you could call in a pinch. The guy who would jump-start your car at two in the morning or help you move a couch in the middle of summer. She was hoping that guy was still there, beneath the chest her gaze kept drifting toward, and that he would be there for her for the next few weeks. “Maddy hasn’t handled the loss of her mother very well. I guess you’d say not at all.”

“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 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?”

A tentative smile filled Madelyne’s face, and to Luke, that smile felt a lot like winning the lottery. “Okay.”

A second later, the three of them were heading down the hall. Like a family, he thought, though they were far from any such thing. He was still the stranger, uninvited at that, tagging along on the visit to the pool.

“Well, you clearly passed her test,” Peyton said.

“I think the kid grades on a bell curve.”

Peyton laughed. “Maddy’s pretty easy to please, most days. Plus, she figures anyone who loves dogs is okay. That’s her big criteria for everyone she meets.”

“I’m lucky she sets the bar low.” He tossed Peyton a grin. She returned it, and the dark, threadbare hall seemed brighter for a moment.

“Charlie to the rescue again,” she said. “That dog is quite the miracle worker, and he doesn’t even know it.”

“That he is.” Luke’s gaze went down the corridor, but his mind reached into the past. To the days after he’d found Charlie, the dark days that haunted Luke still, when he would sneak Charlie into his room at night and whisper his regrets into the mutt’s caramel-colored fur. The dog would lean against him and listen, patient and true.

“Honestly, I think that dog saved me rather than the other way around.” The admission slipped from Luke’s lips before he could stop it.

“What do you—” Peyton’s question was cut off when Madelyne dashed ahead, reeling back when Peyton called out to her to take it easy, to walk instead of run. Dash, slow, dash, slow. It was like watching a yo-yo.

Luke turned to Peyton. “She always this hyper?”

Peyton laughed. “Hyper? Honey, this isn’t hyper. This is normal.”

Something inside him tripped at the word honey. He knew it was an offhand comment, a word Peyton probably hadn’t even realized she’d said. He shook it off. He was here to figure out how he was going to be a father to a kid he never knew he had, not get wrapped up in the way Peyton looked or the words she used.

Madelyne started skipping from diamond to diamond on the patterned rug while she sang a rhyming song about a whale and a lemon. She was wearing a pink-and-white polka-dot one-piece swimsuit with a ruffled skirt, matching sandals, and even had pink ribbons tied in bows around the twin braids in her hair. She seemed awfully dressed up just to get in the pool. Reason number five hundred and seventy-two why Luke wasn’t going to be very good at this fatherhood thing. He couldn’t braid hair or tie ribbons or color-coordinate shoes and bathing suits.

But the more he looked, the more he could see himself in her eyes, her mannerisms. He saw Susannah in Maddy’s impish smile, in the way she danced down the hall. No doubt—this was his daughter.

“I gotta warn you, I have zero experience with kids,” Luke said. “I could screw this up without thinking twice.”

Peyton shot him a smile. “You’ll be fine. Spending time with a four-year-old can be challenging, but it’s also not as hard as you think. I’ll be right there the whole time, ready to give you plenty of instructions and worried-auntie input.”

He watched the girl stop and twirl in the hall, spinning and spinning and spinning while she went on and on about the whale and the lemon, and their new friend, a lime. Those braids spun out from Madelyne’s head, loosening a ribbon. Without missing a beat, Peyton stepped forward, retied the bow and sent Madelyne on her way.

Maddy pushed on the door handle, flooding the hall with sunlight. “Wait, wait,” Peyton said, running up to Madelyne and putting a cautionary hand on the little girl’s shoulder. “Remember, you can’t just run out there. You need to take Auntie P’s hand.”

“But I’m a big girl,” Madelyne said. “I can walk.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure you can. But it’s slippery around the pool.”

Luke watched Madelyne slide her hand into Peyton’s and realized he would have never thought to hold the kid’s hand when they were near the pool. Heck, he probably wouldn’t even have stopped her from running in the halls. All clear signs that he would be a terrible babysitter. An even worse father. Was that even something he could learn? Was there a Dummies book he could read overnight? Or was he better off just staying clear of this whirling, busy girl?

What if something happened to her? What if she ran into the street or tried to climb on the countertop? What if he wasn’t as attentive as he should be? Things could happen when he looked away, he knew that too well. The conviction that he could handle this—handle his own child—began to slip. “Peyton, we should talk.”

“Can it wait a minute? I’ve been promising Maddy that she could go swimming all day and we only have an hour until I need to feed her lunch.”

“Uh, okay.”

Peyton led Madelyne outside, then pulled some kind of blown-up triangular things out of the bag on her arm and slipped them onto Madelyne’s forearms. Madelyne flopped her arms and giggled. “I’s ready now.”

“Okay, give me a second.” Peyton reached down and tugged the hem of the white knit dress, sliding it off her body and tucking it into the bag.

Luke swallowed hard. Holy hell, Peyton looked good. Amazing, in fact. She filled out the dark green fabric of the bikini in a perfect hourglass. He had to force himself not to let his jaw drop, or to say any of the numerous stupid things a man could say when standing beside a beautiful woman in a bikini.

Peyton took Madelyne’s hand and led her toward the pool. The little girl lingered on the top step, her eyes wide and worried again. Peyton kept going, the bottom half of her body disappearing into the shallow end.

Luke pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it, along with his car keys and wallet, onto an empty chair, then slipped into the pool beside Peyton. “Water’s a bit cold.”

Peyton grinned. “Are you saying the big, strapping football captain is feeling a little wimpy?”

“Not at all.” Though he was feeling a little pleased that she’d called him big and strapping. Jeez. He really needed to start thinking with the parts of his brain that existed above his waist.

“Come on, Maddy girl. Your turn.” Peyton put out her arms.

Madelyne stood on the first step, water swirling around her ankles. “I just stay here, Auntie P.”

“Come on, you can swim with me. I’ll hold on to you. You’ll be safe and snug as a bug in a rug.”

Madelyne shook her head and toed at the water. “I just stay here.”

“You can do it, sweetie pie. I know you can.”

Madelyne dropped onto the edge of the pool and swished her feet back and forth, creating little ripples. Her mood had shifted into reserved and distant, her shoulders tensed. “I just stay here,” she repeated.

Peyton sighed. “Are you sure? Because Luke and I are having fun in the water.” Peyton sat back, sweeping her hands back and forth. She arched a brow in Luke’s direction. “Aren’t we?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, sure.” He did the same as Peyton, but felt like an idiot pretending to have fun in the shallow end. He forced a grin to his face even though the water was about ten degrees too cold. “Lots of fun.”

“Swimming is awesome, Maddy. And the water is warm.” She glanced at Luke.

“Yeah, warm.”

“A little enthusiasm, Mr. De Niro,” Peyton whispered to him.

He widened his grin. “It’s super warm!”

Peyton shook her head and bit back a laugh. “You are hopeless. Don’t quit your day job.”

Madelyne just kicked her feet back and forth, watching the adults make fools of themselves. “I just stay here. I swim next time, Auntie P.”

Sadness flickered across Peyton’s face, then she smiled. “Okay, sweetie. That’s fine.”

“She doesn’t swim?” Luke asked.

Peyton shook her head, then lowered her voice. “She’s scared of the water. I don’t know where she got that from because Susannah and I loved the water.”

He remembered. A lot of his best memories centered around those times at the lake with Susannah and Peyton. Those were the best summers he could remember, before his life had taken a left turn he hadn’t seen coming. “That summer of senior year, I swear the three of us spent every single day at the lake. Me and Susannah and...” He flicked some water at Peyton. “Tagalong.”

Her cheeks colored at the old nickname. “It was just because there wasn’t anyone my age at the lake that summer.”

“Jack and Mac were there.”

“Your brothers?” Peyton snorted. “They were always busy. Jack, off hanging with his own friends and Meri’s family. As for Mac, he never wanted anything to do with any of us. I swear, Mac was born an adult.”

Luke laughed. “Very true.”

Then he sobered, because he thought of how long Mac had been gone, how his older brother’s absence had created a vacuum in the family. When they were kids, Jack, Luke and Mac had been the three musketeers, as their mother dubbed them, in trouble more often than not. But as they got older, Mac became the serious one, the determined one. He’d worry over his grades, obsess over every word in an essay, work harder and more than anyone else to keep the T’s crossed and the I’s dotted. He’d been the one who butted heads with their parents the most, the one who thumbed his nose at curfews and rules. The black sheep with the straight As, which made it awful hard to justify grounding him. The minute he was old enough to leave, Mac headed out of Stone Gap, his returns on par with sightings of Halley’s Comet.

Luke glanced over at Madelyne, sitting on the step, prancing a Barbie doll around the edge of the pool. She was his daughter, though he didn’t feel a single thread of emotional connection to what was, essentially, a child stranger. He could see their link in her features, in the way she cocked her head to study him, in the offbeat way she assessed people’s worth. In those ways, they were alike. And maybe he was hoping for too much, expecting some instant bond.

Madelyne, he realized, had a hole in her life now, too. One that was never going to be filled by a quick visit at Christmas, a few checks here and there. What was it the statisticians said? Kids raised with a strong male and female role model did better. They were happier, more grounded. Madelyne clearly already had a strong role model in Peyton, but Luke—

Well, no one was holding him up as an example of what to be when you grew up.

“So, what does this spending-time-with-Madelyne thing entail?” Luke asked. “Exactly.”

Peyton grinned. “Don’t look so panicked.”

He waved a hand. “Does this face say panicked?”

She took a step closer to him, swirling water around their hips. She feigned deep scrutiny, peering into his eyes. Her perfume, something light and airy, wafted in the space between them. “Terrified.”

“Me? I’m only terrified of anacondas and great white sharks. Not kids.”

That made Peyton laugh. He’d never noticed her laugh before, but decided he liked the sound of it. “Wait till she’s having a complete meltdown because she wants to eat cake for dinner or stay up past her bedtime or buy that six-foot teddy bear at the mall. Then we’ll see how the big, brave bachelor reacts.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, speaking with a confidence he didn’t feel. Hell, he could barely take care of himself. And the thought of being responsible for another person—

Damn.

“I’ll be fine,” he repeated, more for himself than Peyton.

The tease dropped from Peyton’s features. Her voice sobered. “You better be, Luke. A kid isn’t a watch you can return to the store because it doesn’t match your suit.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I don’t wear a watch or own a suit.” He tossed her a grin, slipping into the familiar role of class flirt. “And I’m still a big kid myself.”

“That particular fact I noticed.”

For some strange reason, the fact that Peyton had noticed anything at all about him made Luke smile. Years ago, he’d barely known she existed, except as a thorn in his side when he’d been trying to be alone with Susannah. But now, standing in the water with this older, sexier, more intriguing Peyton—

“Auntie P? Can I play with my other dolls now?”

“Sure, sure.” Peyton strode out of the pool, reaching for Madelyne as the little girl was heading for the table where Peyton had placed their things. “Wait, let me get the bag for you.”

Luke’s gaze followed the cascade of water running down Peyton’s back, over her buttocks, down her shapely legs. There were a few things that improved with age. Cheddar cheese. Red wine. And Peyton Reynolds.

He reminded himself he wasn’t here for Peyton or for anything other than his daughter. He was trying to be responsible, for once in his life, and being responsible didn’t include lusting after his kid’s aunt.

He was a father now, whether he was ready or not, and that meant being a whole other person than the one he had been for the past twenty-six years. He could only pray he didn’t screw it up.

Chapter Three

Peyton woke up on Monday morning with her stomach in knots. She lay in the hotel bed, staring up at the white popcorn ceiling for a good ten minutes before she heard Madelyne stirring beside her. Ever since Susannah’s death, Maddy had slept curled up against Peyton, one hand on Peyton’s arm, as if she was afraid she, too, would disappear.

Peyton placed a gentle kiss on Maddy’s temple, then lay against the pillows and did what she always did before putting that first foot on the floor—she ran through a quick mental to-do list, setting goals and ticking off tasks. The activity almost always energized her for the day ahead, infused her with that can-do spirit that had fueled her rise in one of the biggest interior design firms in Baltimore.

Today, though, lying there with a sleeping Maddy tucked beside her, the image of innocence, that to-do list was short and empty, sending a rising tide of panic through Peyton’s stomach.

Two days ago, Peyton had been sitting in her boss’s office, listening to him tell her that she had screwed up on a big job—missed an important deadline—and that she needed to get her act together if she hoped to stay at Winston Interior Design. “Take two weeks off,” he’d said, “get some reliable child care in place, a maid to do the laundry and a priority list that puts your job back at the top, and then come back.”

In other words, quit running out of the office because Maddy had a meltdown at preschool. Stop coming in late because Maddy hadn’t wanted to eat breakfast or get dressed. Quit leaving early because Maddy had been crying on the phone when Peyton called to check on her.

Not to mention how the added responsibilities and worries had taken a toll on Peyton’s sleeping and eating habits. She was a walking zombie at best most days. As much as she needed the sleep, the break, the mere thought of a day that stretched long and empty scared her. They had the trip to the zoo, then lunch, then a trip to the playground, dinner, bath, followed by the endless hours after Maddy fell asleep and Peyton lay in bed, thinking. Thinking far too much.

From the day the police had come to the door with their long faces and somber tones, Peyton had worried ten times more about Maddy than she ever had before. How would Peyton make this work? Would she be a good mother? A strong role model? Had she made the right choice coming here? Or would these days in Stone Gap make Maddy withdraw even more?

Peyton stared at the ceiling, her heart heavy, her chest tight. Suzie, why did you leave her with me? I’m not a mom. I don’t always know the right thing to do.

Susannah had been a distracted mother at best, one who seemed perpetually in need of money or help, but she had loved her daughter fiercely, and Peyton always believed that when it came down to the wire, her sister would put Maddy above everything else. In the end, Susannah hadn’t had the chance.

Now Luke had a chance to step up and be a parent, but Peyton worried he would let her down—and worse, let Maddy down. If there was one thing Maddy desperately needed, it was structure, stability. Luke had never been the kind of guy who built fences and planted vegetable gardens and ate dinner at six.

She needed to remember that when she met Luke at the zoo in a little while, and not delude herself into thinking that just because the man was handsome, and seeing him caused a little flutter in Peyton’s gut, that the three of them were forming some kind of happy little family. She was doing all this for her niece—not to resurrect some silly teenage crush.

All Peyton wanted was to help Maddy become a happy little girl again. Stone Gap was the best place Peyton knew of for Maddy. Here, where the town sprawled among the lush green landscape, there were memories in the streets and the houses. Memories of Susannah, of Peyton, and a foundation for Maddy, who had stood on shifting sand for far too long.

Staying in bed wasn’t going to get her any closer to that goal, so Peyton got up, got ready, then woke Madelyne. “After breakfast, we’re going to the zoo with my friend Luke,” Peyton said, as she tugged Madelyne’s nightgown over her head and helped her slip into shorts and a T-shirt.

“Are you gonna be there, Auntie P?”

Peyton nodded. “I sure am.”

“The whole time?”

“Every single second.” Peyton paused in helping Maddy dress to hold her arms and grab her attention. “I promise.”

Relief washed over Maddy’s features. “Is there gonna be monkeys at the zoo?”

“Monkeys and lions and giraffes,” Peyton said, lifting one of Maddy’s legs to slip on a sock, then repeated with the other foot. “And one very pesky monkey in particular.” She tapped a finger on Maddy’s nose, and the little girl almost—almost—giggled.

“I’s not a monkey, Auntie P. I’s a big girl.”

Peyton pretended it didn’t bother her that the jokes that used to make Maddy smile had lost their touch, that Maddy’s sparkle had gone as flat as a pancake. Time, the psychologist had said. Time will help. How much time was the question that bothered Peyton in those dark moments late at night when she was struggling to be sure she was doing the right thing. “Go get your shoes on, monkey, and we’ll go to breakfast. We have to be at the zoo at nine-thirty.”

Maddy, of course, couldn’t tell time yet and had no idea if it was nine-thirty or five-thirty. But Peyton liked having the schedule, liked saying it out loud, as if putting the numbers in the air would cement the plan in place. When things ran on time and as planned, it gave Peyton room to breathe.

So at eight-twenty, they left the cozy room at the Stone Gap Hotel, took Peyton’s car to downtown Stone Gap and walked into The Good Eatin’ Café, pretty much the only breakfast choice in town. The second the door opened, Peyton regretted her choice. Stone Gap was a small town with long memories and gossipy residents. All she needed was someone recounting Susannah’s wild past in front of Maddy.

“Oh, you cute little button!” Vivian Hoffman, the owner of the diner, came bustling around the counter, a petite gray-haired woman who had worked at The Good Eatin’ Café for so long, Peyton figured she had to be close to a hundred, though she moved at the speed of people half her age. Vivian bent down in front of Maddy. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Madelyne.” She drew herself up. “Madelyne Reynolds.”

“Oh, what a cutie. And as serious as a judge in church.” Vivian put out her hand and gave Maddy’s a little shake. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Madelyne. I’m Miss Viv, and if you need anything at all, you just let Miss Viv know and I’ll get it from the kitchen.”

“Can I have pancakes that look like cookies?”

“She means chocolate chip pancakes,” Peyton explained.

“Oh my, of course you can, sweetheart.” Miss Viv’s smile crinkled her eyes. “Why, we make the best cookie-looking pancakes in all of North Carolina. How about some chocolate milk to go with that, too? With one of those crazy bendy straws?”

Maddy started to say yes, but Peyton put a hand on her shoulder. “Apple juice will be fine, Miss Viv. Thank you.”

Vivian looked at Peyton now, really looked at her. “You’re the younger Reynolds girl, aren’t you? Peyton?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, as if she was still a child and trying on her best manners in front of Grandma Lucy.

“And this adorable angel is your little girl?”

“No, she’s my niece.”

“Niece? That means Susannah...” Her voice trailed off and she dropped her gaze to Maddy’s blond curls. “Well, I’ll be. And I thought I knew ’bout everything that happened in this town.” Miss Viv brightened and put an arm around Peyton, drawing her deeper into the diner and steering her toward a booth that overlooked a shady corner of the park next door. “Best table in the house, though that busybody Mort Williams will say otherwise.”

From the far corner of the laminate bar that fronted the kitchen, Mort, a gray-haired man with a hunched back who owned the Page In Time Bookstore a block away, raised his cup of coffee in Miss Viv’s direction. He had a book in his hands now, a leather-bound volume. Probably a classic he’d read a hundred times before, if Peyton remembered correctly. “Howdy, Peyton,” he said, raising his book in her direction. “Stop on by the bookstore while you’re in town.”

“I sure will,” Peyton said. “I think I spent more time there than at home when I was young.” The bookstore had been her escape, a quiet place with cozy chairs, where she could read and get away from the roller coaster that had been her childhood. An alcoholic mother, a never-present father and two girls who had few, if any, rules or expectations meant Peyton could count on nothing but the happy endings she found in the books she read.

“Looking forward to seeing you.” Mort smiled. “And though that booth Miss Viv gave you is good, if you ask me, the best seat in the house is this one. Lets me watch all the comings and goings.”

Miss Viv leaned in toward Peyton. “He likes to think himself the town gossip. I told him Anna May Robicheaux has had that job for going on ninety-one years and given her constitution, she’s not giving up her title anytime soon. Would that she did, because Mort here is near as old as Methuselah himself.”

“It’s your coffee keeping me young, Miss Viv,” Mort said, hoisting said mug again for a refill. “That and your sweet smile.”

“That man is far too old to flirt. Goodness. Now, you two sit right here,” Miss Viv said, reaching over to pluck two menus from a vacant table and lay them before Peyton and Maddy. “Tell me what you want, Peyton, and I’ll get it started right quick.”

“Uh...just coffee, please.”

Vivian waved that off. “You can’t start your day with just coffee! You’d, like, about die from starvation before ten. ’Sides, I can’t let anyone leave the Good Eatin’ Café saying Miss Viv didn’t fill their bellies from the bottom up.” She stepped back, put a finger on her chin and studied Peyton. “Let’s see if I can remember your favorite order.”

“Oh, Miss Viv,” Peyton began, “it’s been at least ten years since I’ve eaten here with my grandma and—”

“Two eggs, sunny-side up, not too hard, not too soft. With a side of pancakes, and extra syrup.”

Miss Viv had nailed her order, as easily as if the last time Peyton had been here had been last week, instead of over a decade. “That’s...that’s exactly it.”

The older woman patted Peyton’s hand. “I never forget a customer, especially one as pretty and nice as you.” Then she bustled away toward the kitchen, sending over one of her waitresses to give Peyton a hot cup of coffee.

Maddy settled in the booth, dwarfed by the red leather back. “Auntie P, how’s come that lady knows you?”

“I used to come here when I was a little girl with my grandma. I sat at that stool right there.” She pointed toward the one in the middle of the bar, wondering if it still squeaked when you turned right. “And we’d have our Sunday-morning breakfast here.”

Maddy considered that for a while, taking in the seat, the covered platter of sugar-dusted doughnuts beside the glass cookie jar raising money for a local boy whose beaming face filled a photo on the front, then lifted her gaze to Peyton’s. “Do I have a grandma like that, Auntie P? Can she bring me here on Sundays, too?”

Peyton started to say no. Peyton’s grandmother Lucy, the one who Peyton could run to for cuts and bruises and happy moments, had died when Peyton was eleven. And Peyton’s own mother...

She’d never been the motherly type, much less the grandmother type, even after Maddy had been born. Three years ago, Peyton’s mother had died of cirrhosis. The girls had never known their father, so if there were paternal grandparents, Peyton had never met them.

But there was another woman, another grandma, who would take one look at Maddy and spoil her rotten for all the days of her life. The kind of grandma who would take her for chocolate chip pancakes every Sunday and go to all her school plays and exclaim over every handmade lumpy clay ashtray.

Peyton knew that, because she knew that woman well. Luke’s mother, Della, the one woman in Stone Gap who Peyton had wished was her mother from the minute she met her.

Maddy was still watching her, waiting for an answer. If Peyton told her the truth, Maddy would want to meet Della. If Peyton lied, it would be one more blow to a little girl who’d already had too many.

“Yes, Maddy, you have a grandma like that.”

A smile, a genuine, joyful smile as bright as a June day, bloomed on Maddy’s face. “Does she know I like pancakes that look like cookies? Does she know I’m almost four? Does she know I can count to a hun-red all by myself?”

Damn. How to answer these questions without telling Maddy everything? “She doesn’t yet, but she will, when you meet her.”

“When am I gonna meet her? Is she coming to my house? Is she gonna make me cupcakes like Kayleigh’s grandma? Cuz she makes cupcakes all the time and puts sprinkles on them and they’re really yummy.”

“I don’t know when you’ll meet her,” Peyton said. The waitress came by and laid plates of food before them. Peyton thanked her, then nudged Maddy’s plate closer to her niece, hoping to shift the conversation away from a comparison of Maddy’s friend Kayleigh’s grandma and her own. “Why don’t you eat your breakfast, so we can go to the zoo?”

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