Switched At Birth. Christine Rimmer

she hadn’t had time. Until this year.

      This year, no matter what, she was making time. Making time to make time.

      That brought another snort-laugh from her, which had Myra demanding in her ear, “What is so funny?”

      “Nothing, Myra. Absolutely noth...” The word died unfinished as a random gust of wind lifted her wide-brimmed hat right off her head. “Crap.”

      She made a grab for it. Too late. The hat sailed over the railing. She set down the binoculars—and knocked her dark glasses off the railing in the process. The sunglasses plopped to the sand below and the hat wheeled off toward the ocean, vanishing from sight.

      “Madison,” Myra badgered in her ear. “What is going on there?”

      Madison looked down to see how her favorite sunglasses were faring and found herself staring directly into the wide, wondering eyes of Mr. Fixit’s little girl, who had been playing with her brother between the two houses while Madison peeped at their dad.

      The little girl gasped. “Princess Eliza!” she cried and clapped her small hands with glee. “Princess Eliza, it’s you!” Princess Eliza was the central character in a Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, “The Wild Swans.” Eight years ago, Madison, had played Eliza for Disney.

      And that little girl? She was the cutest thing ever, with a riot of curly dark brown hair only partly contained in two braids. She wore denim overalls and a pink T-shirt. A jumbo-sized neon-green Band-Aid took up serious real estate on her left forearm. She beamed up at Madison, who beamed right back, not even caring that she’d just been recognized.

      “Madison, you with me?” shouted Myra.

      “Myra, sorry. Gotta go. I’ll be in touch.” The agent was still talking as Madison ended the call.

      “I’m coming to see you!” The little girl waved madly. Madison waved back at her. “I’m coming right now!” And the child took off at a run.

      Laughing, Madison pulled the device from her ear and her phone from her pocket. She whirled and headed for the main deck again. Resetting the phone to silent page, she dropped both it and the Bluetooth receiver on the cast-iron table as she passed it.

      At the same time, the kid ran around to the steps on the other side of the deck and started up them. “I’m here, Eliza,” she called. “I’m here to see you!”

      “Coco, stop!” Her brother followed after her. “That’s not Eliza!” he shouted. “Eliza isn’t real.”

      “Oh, you just shut up, Benjamin Killigan.” The little girl paused in midstep and turned on her brother. “You don’t know nothing.”

      “Anything,” the boy corrected her. “And you know you’re not supposed to bother the tenant.”

      Coco whirled away from him and ran up the remaining steps. “Eliza!” She reached the deck and raced for Madison, arms outstretched, pigtails flying.

      Madison held out her arms. The little girl flew at her and landed, smack, against her middle.

      “I’m Colleen.” The child gazed up at her through shining blue eyes. “But everybody calls me Coco.”

      “Hello, Coco. My name is Madison.”

      “See?” crowed the boy as he skidded to a stop a few feet away from them. “She’s not Eliza.” He was a year or two older than Coco, with straight brown hair, serious brown eyes and a T-shirt with Stand back! I’m going to try science! printed on the front.

      Coco let go of Madison to turn and deal with her brother. “Is so.”

      “No, she’s not.”

      “Hold it,” said Madison. The children fell silent. Two sets of eyes turned on her expectantly. “You’re both right. I’m an actress who played the part of Eliza. So no, I’m not really Eliza, but yes, I am the one Coco remembers from The Wild Swans.”

      “Told you so,” Coco gloated.

      “All right, you two,” Hunky Mr. Fixit said from the top of the steps. He’d taken off his tool belt and put on a T-shirt. Darn it. “What did I tell you about bothering the tenant?”

      Benjamin seemed hurt. “Uncle Sten, I tried to stop her!”

      Uncle Sten. Interesting. So the hot guy next door might not be married, after all?

      Or maybe the kids were cousins and only the little girl was his.

      “She waved at me!” cried Coco.

      The hunk came toward them, his lace-up work boots eliminating the distance in four long strides. Up close, he had the same amazing blue eyes as Coco. “I’m Sten Larson.” He offered Madison his big, manly hand.

      “Madison.” His hand was warm, dusted very lightly with dark hair—and rough in all the right places.

      “I know who you are.” He was so good-looking, with all that messy hair and those lips that made a woman think of kisses—kisses that start out slow, but then grow hot and wonderfully deep. “But you don’t have to worry.”

      Her brain seemed to have gone off-line at his touch. “Um, worry? Why would I worry?”

      He smiled then, a wry and beautiful smile. “I just mean that I’m sworn to secrecy concerning everything about you. I’ve even signed an NDA.”

      “Ah,” she replied, the sound absurdly husky. “I can trust you then?” Was she flirting? She needed to cut that out. He could definitely be married.

      “I’m not going to say a word to anyone,” he vowed. “And neither are the kids. I’ll make sure of that.”

      She still held his hand. They just looked at each other. The look went on for several seconds. Eventually, it became downright awkward. They let go simultaneously. “Really, it’s no big deal,” she said, trying really hard to control her totally out-there reactions to everything about this guy. “I waved at Coco. She recognized me from a Disney movie I did a few years back and she came running up to meet me.”

      “Yes!” crowed Coco with glee. “Princess Eliza is my most favoritest princess. She saved her brothers so they didn’t have to be swans anymore. There were eleven of them, those brothers, and the wicked stepmother turned them all into swans and made them fly far, far away and Eliza had to—”

      “Coco, settle down.” A frown lowered the corners of Sten’s distractingly kissable mouth. He seemed super cautious, the way people always did after they had it drilled it into them that Madison wanted privacy and she was not to be disturbed or to have attention drawn to her in any way.

      “The beach is deserted,” Madison said, feeling embarrassed at the rules she herself always insisted on. “I don’t see a problem.”

      For several more endless seconds, he just looked at her. Really, he could do that forever, just stand there with those gorgeous eyes focused on her. She felt something lovely and magic with him, no doubt about it. It was absolutely delicious, that hot little spark of mutual attraction.

      And for once, she was actually imagining acting on it.

      At last.

      But he just kept frowning. He turned to the kids. “All right you two, go on back to the house and check in with Grandpa.”

      Ben took Coco’s hand. The little girl allowed him to lead her to the stairs, but dug in her heels before following him down. Turning, she offered, “Eliza, you can come play with me at my house anytime!”

      I’ll be right there, Madison thought but didn’t say. It probably wouldn’t go over so well with Sten, who was watching her like he didn’t quite know what to make of her, the supposedly reclusive movie star who suddenly found his grade school-age niece—or daughter—fascinating. “Thanks.” She gave Coco a big smile.

      “Come