Full-Time Father. Susan Mallery

stared at the girl, then looked at Erin. “I—”

      “I warned you about her,” she said, and took the plate from him. “One,” she repeated.

      Christie stuck out her lower lip, but didn’t say anything. She’d learned that whining usually resulted in her losing the treat she already had.

      “I was telling your father about where we live,” Erin said. “Why don’t you tell him about your preschool?”

      Parker broke one of his cookies in half. “You go to school?”

      “Every day. I’m very smart. When I grow up I’m going to be smarter than everyone. Except Mommy.” She paused and studied him. “Are you smarter than Mommy?”

      Parker had popped half the cookie into his mouth and started to chew. He tried to swallow it quickly and only succeeded in choking. As he coughed, Erin handed him his lemonade. He took a sip, coughed again, then said weakly, “What was the question?”

      “Are you smarter than Mommy?”

      “Think before you answer that,” Erin said, then took a small bite of her cookie. It was still warm and the chocolate chips were soft and sweet.

      “I probably know more about computers than she does,” he said carefully. “But she knows more about other things.”

      “Nice save,” Erin said.

      He flashed her a grin.

      The cookie turned to tasteless crumbs in her mouth as a bolt of awareness slammed into her chest and roared down to her toes. She blinked, waiting for it to go away, or at least fade. It did neither. Instead she was acutely aware of Parker and a sensation in her chest that felt suspiciously like heat.

      So the man was vaguely attractive. So he was nice to Christie. So he had a sense of humor. It was the salt air, or the cookies, or the sunshine. It was the fact that she’d spent the past four years getting her teaching credential, finding a job and being a single mom. She hadn’t had the time nor energy to think about having a man in her life. Something long dead was finally coming to life. Nothing more. Really.

      Christie munched on her cookie. “Do you have a dog?” she asked, giving her mother a sideways glance.

      Christie had been angling for a puppy of her own for nearly a year. Erin understood the girl wanting one, but life was hectic enough without adding more responsibility.

      “No, sorry,” Parker said.

      “Dogs are very nice.”

      “I’m sure they are.” He looked faintly confused. “Do you have a dog?”

      Christie raised her shoulders and let go with an exaggerated sigh. “No. Maybe when I’m older.” She took a drink. “Do you have any other little girls you don’t know you have?”

      This time he was drinking instead of chewing when he started to choke. He coughed for a few minutes, then cleared his throat.

      “This seems to be a chronic problem for you,” Erin said, refilling his glass.

      “It’s very recent,” he said and coughed again. “No, Christie, I don’t have any other little girls.”

      “So I’m your ownliest daughter?”

      “Yes.”

      She wrinkled her nose, then tilted her head so one of her pigtails brushed against her shoulder. “It would be very nice to have someone to play with.”

      “I don’t know of any other children around here. I can ask Kiki.”

      “If there aren’t children, I could play with a puppy.”

      “Enough about the puppy,” Erin said.

      “It wouldn’t have to be very big.”

      “Christie!” she said sternly.

      “Yes, Mommy. I’ll be good.” She glanced at Parker out of the corner of her eye. “Sometimes I’m a handful.”

      “I’ll bet.”

      Father and daughter smiled at each other.

      Since finding her sister’s diary, Erin had spent several sleepless nights wondering if she was doing the right thing. Everything she’d read about Parker Hamilton had convinced her he was a decent man and that he would want to know about his child. She’d been concerned about his reaction and a little nervous about allowing someone into the special world she’d built with her daughter. But now, staring at the two of them, seeing the similarities and differences, she knew she’d made the right decision.

      Everything was going to work out perfectly.

      Chapter Three

      Christie finished her cookie and lemonade without mentioning the puppy again. Parker couldn’t help staring at her. She was small, smaller than he’d imagined, but very lively and bright. Her eyes were a few shades lighter than in the photo, but still brown. She glanced at him, then smiled. A dimple appeared on both cheeks. He couldn’t help smiling back.

      “You’re very pretty,” he said without thinking.

      The dimples deepened as she grinned. “Mommy says so, too. Angela Bedford is beautiful. She’s got long blond hair and blue eyes and she’s made a ‘mercial.”

      “A what?”

      “A commercial,” Erin said and reached for her glass. “Mrs. Bedford is hoping to get her daughter into television.”

      “Why would anyone want to do that?” he asked.

      She laughed. “My thoughts exactly.”

      Her shoulder-length hair brushed against her cream sweater as she tilted her head and glanced around the terrace. Parker felt as if he’d gotten sucked into one of his video games. In the space of a few hours, his whole world had been turned upside down.

      Erin was Stacey’s twin sister. The longer he was with Erin, the more he remembered about her sister. Yet he had no sense of déjà vu. Despite the physical similarities, he knew Erin was a different personality. They might look alike, but they projected two completely different people. Stacey had been—He frowned trying to remember what she’d been. Intense, driven; she’d been one of the hardest workers on the project. She’d also been underfoot. He remembered the feeling of not being able to escape her.

      He didn’t know Erin at all, yet even after spending such a short period of time with her he sensed that she was more relaxed and accepting of things. She handled her child easily, without being overbearing.

      Her child…his child. He swore silently and wondered what on earth he was going to do with a kid. Not that he didn’t like Christie, but he wasn’t the paternal type. He hadn’t been around children since he was one.

      Kiki came out onto the terrace and walked to their table. “Does anyone need more cookies or lemonade?” she asked as she placed a sandwich in front of him.

      “Christie and I are fine,” Erin said.

      Parker took a big bite of his sandwich. “Great,” he mumbled.

      Kiki gave him her “don’t talk with your mouth full” look, but fortunately, she didn’t say it out loud. Kiki had been with him seven years and was worse than his mother had ever been. He didn’t know how he would survive without her, though.

      Kiki squatted down next to Christie and touched the girl’s shoulder. “I bet you have your own room back home,” she said.

      Christie nodded. “Uh-huh. I’ve got a big girl bed and bookshelves.”

      “You like to read?”

      “Yup.” She scrunched her nose. “I can read lots of words by myself, but for the extra-long stories, Mommy reads those to me. I want to read big girl books. When I go to school