Accidental Father. Lauren Nichols

knew their meeting wasn’t going to go well. But that knowledge didn’t prevent him from admiring her long tanned legs and cutoff denim shorts as she strode to the middle of the yard. A length of wide black plastic fluttered from her right hand, and a roll of silver duct tape circled her wrist, bracelet-style.

      He swore as he realized what she was about to do, then cut the engine, got out and quickly crossed the lawn. By the time he reached her, she’d already draped the plastic over her sign and was fighting the wind to secure it to the post.

      “Why are you doing this?” he demanded.

      “Why am I doing what?”

      Damn, he hated it when people answered that way. He tried to count to ten—and made it to five. “If you’re closing because you don’t want to rent me a room, forget I even asked. I’m not going to make a big deal of your staying open. You have a child to support.”

      “I don’t need the income from the bed-and-breakfast to support Kylie,” she returned, ripping off another piece of tape and slapping it on her sign. “And my closing has nothing to do with you.”

      “After the talk I had with Maggie, that’s a little hard to believe.”

      Sarah stopped moving, and her gaze widened accusingly. But there was hurt in her eyes, too. “You told Maggie about us?”

      Sighing, Jake shook his head, feeling bad that he’d put her on the defensive. But if she thought that giving him attitude would scare him off, she was wrong. “I don’t kiss and tell, Sarah. My conversation with Maggie concerned my finding a room to rent. When I told her you were closing, she was surprised. She said she’d spoken to you recently, and you hadn’t mentioned it.”

      With a cool look, she gathered the plastic together at the base of her sign, then ripped off another length of tape and wrapped it tightly. “I didn’t tell Maggie I’d just had my teeth cleaned, either, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” Sliding the roll of tape back on her arm, she stared at him through wind-tossed bangs. “Why is my closing or not closing so important to you? We’re strangers.”

      “If we were strangers, my showing up here this morning wouldn’t have rattled you the way it did. You’re not doing much better now. Why is that?”

      “Why?” she repeated in an incredulous tone. “How can you even ask that question? Seeing you reminds me of something I did that I’m not very proud of, and I don’t want to be reminded of it. Maybe what happened between us was just another roll in the hay for you—”

      “I told you it wasn’t.”

      “—but I don’t sleep around.” Her white knit top had a scooped neckline, and her pulse hammered at the base of her throat. Inappropriate or not, Jake remembered kissing her there.

      “The truth is,” she continued, “I’ve been thinking about closing for a while now. Your showing up just pushed my plans ahead a few months. I’m finding that I don’t have time to make meals and change sheets for guests anymore. My catering business is doing very well, and—and Kylie’s growing up fast. She deserves more time with me, and I need more time with her.”

      Something in Jake softened. Whether she was his child or not, he was glad Sarah could work out of her home and give Kylie the attention and support she needed. He’d loved his mother, and in her way, he supposed Emily had loved him. But he’d always known he was third in line behind the current boyfriend and the next party. He hadn’t fared much better with the foster parents he’d stayed with after Emily had died. Kylie would never know that loneliness.

      The low hum of an engine drew Jake’s attention, and he turned to see a car come up the driveway, squeeze past his Jeep and continue on to the far side of the house. It stopped in the small parking area assigned to guests.

      The color drained from Sarah’s face as an older man got out of the car.

      “We’re back, Mommy!” he called with a broad smile. “Safe and sound.” Then he opened the back door of his gray sedan and lifted Kylie out of her car seat.

      Even as his heartbeat increased, Jake was startled to realize he’d been so involved with Sarah that he’d nearly forgotten Kylie was his main reason for coming back here. As she raced across the lawn to her mother, he fought to keep his features calm and controlled. Was Kylie his? Could she be?

      “Hi, sweetheart,” Sarah said warmly, her voice shaking a little as she scooped her daughter into her arms. “Did you and Grandpa have a nice lunch at Aunt Ruby’s?”

      “I had ice cweam!”

      “I can see that,” Sarah replied. “It’s all over your shirt. We’ll have to change it before your nap.”

      “Sorry,” the older man said, chuckling as he walked to them. “I should’ve asked Ruby for a bib. And before you yell at me, she had macaroni and cheese before the ice cream—I promise.”

      “But more ice cream than macaroni, I’ll bet,” Sarah said, laughing. Her smile faded a little then, and after giving Jake a hesitant look, she put Kylie down. “Dad, this is Sheriff Russell. Sheriff, my father, Bill Malloy.”

      “Nice to meet you,” Jake said, and they clasped hands.

      “Same here.”

      Sarah’s father was a good-looking man in his late fifties, and aging well, despite the fair amount of gray in his dark hair and mustache. His choice of vehicles—a sedan—as well as his gray trousers and yellow knit shirt, suggested that he didn’t ranch or farm.

      “So what do you think of our little town, Sheriff?”

      “I like it. Hope I have the chance to stay for a while.”

      “You’re talking about the November election,” Malloy guessed. “Well, just don’t tick off Ed Cooper at the paper or any of our local busybodies in the next couple of months, and you shouldn’t have a problem.”

      “Thanks for the advice,” he answered, thinking about the old man in the red truck. “But it’s hard to know what annoys people until you get to know them.”

      “In this town, it could be anything,” Malloy returned wryly. “No matter what you do, you’re bound to rub someone the wrong way.” His devoted gaze fell to Kylie. “Except for Kylie, here. She loves everybody.”

      Malloy’s statement seemed to invite a conversation with his pretty little granddaughter, and Jake crouched down and smiled. She wore black shorts and a gray knit shirt with black sleeves and Mickey Mouse ears stitched to the hood hanging against her back. Or maybe they were Minnie Mouse ears. Suddenly everything this tiny girl wore, every move she made, every silky black hair above her blue eyes and animated baby face were vitally important to him.

      “Hi, honey,” he said.

      Lightning quick, Kylie speared his badge with her index finger. “That’s a star!”

      Jake’s heart took off running, and he wondered how he’d lived this long without feeling this many emotions at once.

      Sarah tugged Kylie back against her legs. “I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly. “She gets rambunctious when she has too much sugar.”

      “No, no, she’s fine,” Jake said, pushing to his feet.

      “Let’s go to your house and pway!” Kylie piped up, and Jake wasn’t sure what to say. For starters, he didn’t have a house. But, by God, if Kylie was his, he’d find one.

      “Dad?” Sarah said, looking pale again. “Why don’t you take Kylie inside? I’ll be right in to change her shirt.”

      For a second, Malloy stared curiously at his daughter. Then he shrugged, grinned and scooped Kylie into his arms. “Sure. We’ll have a cup of coffee while we wait, won’t we, cupcake?”

      “Dad—”

      “Okay,” he said, chuckling. “We’ll have milk.”