Father Most Wanted. Marie Ferrarella

hold of her father’s hand and was pulling him toward the store.

      “C’mon, Daddy, please?”

      Breckinridge never stood a chance, Brooke thought. One look at his face told her that. The girls obviously held him in the palms of their hands. Just as she and Heather had held their father in theirs.

      Idly, she couldn’t help wondering if the same was true of the girls’ mother.

      Chapter Two

      “Sorry about the bars.”

      Brooke inserted her key into the lock and the green wrought-iron vines began to climb to the ceiling before they disappeared into the opening, leaving the entrance accessible.

      “I’m a little shorthanded this morning, and while I’d like to believe in the goodness of my fellow man, I’d rather not leave temptation standing blatantly in front of him, either.”

      Remaining where she was, Brooke pocketed the key. She knew enough to stand out of the way. Three could be a formidable number at times.

      Like the first fireflies of summer, the three little girls scattered in different directions the moment they entered the store, guided in their selections by the murals that graced the walls. Bethany went to the learning section, Stephany gravitated to the area that abounded with fairies and elves, while Tiffany decided to explore the section that had a bevy of cartoon characters beckoning in welcome.

      Watching them, Brooke smiled half to herself, half at the girls’ father. “I guess they all have their own personalities, even at this age.” She turned to him. “They’re what—five?”

      “Six,” he corrected. “They’re small for their age. And as for their personalities—” he laughed softly to himself, thinking back for a moment, though in general he tried not to do too much of that “—they’re distinct, all right. They never mimic one another except when they try to put one over on me.” Even then, he was getting pretty good at telling them apart. At first glance they were absolutely identical. But there were small subtle differences. He’d learned to look for them. “I think they were their own persons from the moment they first opened their eyes in the delivery room.”

      For a few seconds he allowed himself just to enjoy seeing them pore over the different books the store had to offer. They’d gotten their love of books from him. It was one of the things he could give them, besides his unconditional love.

      Rousing himself, he turned to look at the woman beside him. He owed her, he thought. A lot. “I want to thank you again for finding Tiffany for me.”

      She warmed to the sincerity in his voice. “You’re very welcome, but actually I’d say it was more a case of her finding me.”

      Brooke paused, wondering if she should say anything further, then decided he should know. It was always best for a parent to have some clue about what was going on in his or her child’s mind.

      “She told me she was looking for a book on how to find a mommy.”

      “Oh.”

      There was something in his voice she couldn’t identify. Surprise? Amusement? She couldn’t tell, and it was obvious she wasn’t about to get any further clues from him. Tyler Breckinridge didn’t strike her as exactly the gregarious type.

      Nothing wrong with a man who wasn’t glad-handing everyone, she thought. Marc had been gregarious, and look where that had led.

      Having done her duty, Brooke glanced around. She supposed she could busy herself with the shipment statement until his daughters made their selections, but she found herself wanting to remain right where she was, standing beside the tall, dark handsome stranger.

      “Are you from around here?” she asked. He looked at her so sharply that she almost didn’t continue. It took her a second to retrieve her train of thought. “The reason I ask is that my bookstore has been open for a while now and I’ve never seen the girls in here before today.”

      “No,” he replied quietly. “We’re not from around here. We just moved to Bedford recently.”

      And, he thought, he was still trying to get comfortable amid all the new belongings he suddenly found himself with. Some highly paid, overly degreed bureaucrat’s notion of what suited him, Tyler supposed. But at least the girls were having fun, burrowing into this new life they found themselves facing. The resilience of youth never ceased to amaze him.

      Brooke nodded. She could see why he had chosen to move here. The city’s reputation was excellent.

      “Can’t beat Bedford for schools, weather or safety.” She scrutinized him for a moment, trying to see past the almost unsettling planes and angles of his tanned face and the deep-green eyes to the man beneath. “So, where is it that you’re from?”

      Dark brows drew together as he regarded her warily. “Here and there. Why?”

      “No reason.” She lifted a shoulder, letting it drop carelessly. “I just thought I detected a New York accent, that’s all.” Nothing thick or blatant, just a hint of one when he said certain words.

      Tyler slipped his hands into his pockets, looking back to the girls. “No, never been to New York.”

      Was it her imagination or had he lowered his voice just then? There were only his daughters and him in the store. Who was he lowering his voice for?

      God, just listen to yourself, Brooke. You never used to be this suspicious. When was she ever going to be rid of that annoying touch of paranoia that seemed to almost constantly hound her thoughts?

      “Have you? Been to New York?” Tyler added when she looked at him quizzically.

      Boy, have I ever. But she made no effort to explain the wry expression she knew had twisted her lips. “Once. For a while.” Just long enough to have my heart broken.

      He debated saying anything. He, above all, had come to respect privacy and minding his own business. But there was something in her eyes that prompted him to comment, “I take it that it wasn’t a pleasurable experience.”

      Now there was an understatement, she thought. But she kept that to herself. Instead, she said only, “It started out that way, but no, not really.”

      He wanted to say, “Me, too,” but that would be admitting he had been in New York, contradicting what he’d just said. He had to keep track of the lies or they would wind up tripping him up.

      Lies were like shoots of ivy, their tendrils reaching out, hooking onto things that came in their path. Spreading until you weren’t sure just where they had begun or where they were going.

      Turning his back to Brooke, he clapped his hands loudly, gaining his daughters’ attention. “Well, have you girls made a decision yet?”

      None of them wanted to leave. “Just a little longer, Daddy,” Bethany pleaded.

      “I want these, Daddy.” Coming over to him, Stephany produced a pile she had carefully garnered from the shelves.

      Eyes as large as saucers, Tiffany quickly grabbed a handful of books without looking at their titles. Trying to lug her bounty over, Tiffany wound up dropping them on the floor several feet short of her goal. But her spirit wasn’t daunted. “If she gets that many, can I have the same, Daddy?”

      Coming over to pick up the scattered spoils, Brooke laughed as she made eye contact with Tiffany. “Ah, eager customers. My favorite.”

      She was surprised to have Tyler join her, quickly gathering the remainder of the fallen collection. He was attempting to look at least a little stern. “Girls, we talked about this.”

      Closest to his right, Bethany frowned. “We talked about a lot of things, Daddy.”

      Brooke knew a brewing storm when she smelled it and hurried to quell the waters.

      “You know the best thing about my store, girls?” Rising, she deposited