Falling for the Single Dad (7 page)

Then she spotted Weston. In a blue-and-white-plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he stood, hands in his jeans pockets, on the cottage stoop. Again, a lonesome look on his face. Which brightened at the sight of Izzie hurtling across the crushed-clamshell path toward him. His gaze drifted to where Caroline waited by the car.

Her throat caught. He didn't look happy to see her. Not at all. In fact, he looked like he'd prefer anyone but her to be standing in his driveway.

“...Wait till you see what we bought... Caroline found shoes to match—”

“Shoes?” His eyes sharpened. “I didn't give you enough money for shoes.”

Caroline moved forward. “It's okay.”

His mouth tightened. “It's not okay. We don't take charity from anyone, much less... Go inside, Izzie.”

“Daddy—”

Stricken, Caroline placed the bags at Izzie's feet. “Much less from a total stranger. Got it.” She pivoted. “I apologize.” She threw the last bit over her shoulder as she strode toward her car.

“Wait... Stay here, Izzie.” The gravel crunched behind her. “I should be the one apologizing, Caroline. Please, don't leave. That came out harsher than I intended.”

He hovered within arm's reach. “I'm sorry. It's been a...” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “A disconcerting afternoon, which dredged up personal stuff I believed I'd put to rest.”

Weston took hold of her hand. “None of which is your fault. Please forgive me. I'm still getting the hang of not barking at civilians. Izzie will be disappointed if you don't stay for dinner.”

A light breeze carried his scent to her nostrils. Old Spice, she thought. Masculine and clean. She studied him for a moment. Only the caw of seagulls and the crash of the waves beyond the dunes broke the silence.

Caroline lifted her chin. “Only Izzie?”

Those indigo eyes of his flickered. His mouth curved. “Izzie won't be the only one disappointed if you don't stay.”

If she had a lick of sense, she'd get in her car and leave. This former Coast Guard commander obviously had problems of his own. She could barely cope with her issues, much less his accumulated baggage, too.

“We've got to show Daddy my dress, Caroline.”

He gave Caroline a winsome smile. Her heart did a strange, palpitating dance. The corners of his eyes crinkled as if he sensed the attraction she felt for him. Did he feel the same way about her?

“Yeah, Caroline.” The blue in his eyes deepened and beckoned. “What Izzie said.”

So not fair playing the kid card. That and she liked the sound of her name on his lips.

Caroline lifted her chin. “You still owe me forty dollars for Izzie's shoes, Clark.”

His jaw dropped. “Forty dollars? What are they made of? Gold?”

She shrugged. “Welcome to the preteen years, Dad. It only gets more expensive from here on out.”

He groaned. “What have you done to my tough, little tomboy?”

Caroline laughed. “Izzie's still tough. But she'll also look fabulous the next time she bests Max.”

He laced his fingers in hers. “Thank you. You're a very forgiving person.”

Breathless, she realized he'd not let go of her hand.

She glanced toward the point where the setting sun streaked the water a molten gold. “A person who's been forgiven much should forgive much also.”

He stared at her a minute. “Wise, forgiving and beautiful. All in one package.”

She let her shoulders rise and fall. “Not really.”

“Yes, really. But I get the feeling that like me, that wisdom has been earned the hard way.”

At the understanding in his eyes, a long-dormant hope blossomed in her heart. A hope she'd buried since those terrible days after her mother passed.

“Daddy... Caroline... Are we going to eat or what?”

He threw his daughter a sheepish look. “Coming, Monkey Girl.” He pulled Caroline toward the cottage. “We better get supper on the table before my inmate riots.”

We? And he still had hold of her hand.

She was a scientist, after all. Trained to observe. What she observed was her heart ratcheted a notch at the feel of his hand in hers. And that scared Caroline.

Could she trust her emotions this time? Should she? Or would only more heartbreak result from allowing this man and child a place in her life?

Warm, welcoming light spilled out from the cottage, casting a path onto the ground. Izzie grabbed on to Caroline's free hand as if somehow she feared Caroline might bolt.

After a decade of feeling nothing but numbness, like a limb gone to sleep, she felt pinpricks needling her emotions as her heart came to life again.

Time to quit playing it safe? Time to move past the regrets. Toward the light of hope ahead?

Summoning her courage, Caroline crossed the threshold and stepped inside.

Chapter Seven

W
eston watched as Izzie gave Caroline a personal tour of the lightkeeper's quarters. It didn't take long. First, the combo living and kitchen area. Then the two rooms at the rear of the cottage, which were their temporary bedrooms until Sawyer finished their new bedrooms in the attached lighthouse.

He busied himself boiling the water for pasta while Izzie introduced Caroline one by one to her collection of stuffed animals perched on top of the couch.

“They like spending the day here.” Izzie gestured at the window. “Where they can watch the tide roll in and out.”

At the counter, he diced strawberries for the salad.

Izzie patted the head of the furry monkey, her favorite. “I'll put them to bed with me later.” Loyal to a fault, though, she'd never admit in front of the other animals she had favorites.

She'd been two when he came home after a long cutter assignment to find Jessica missing and a friend's wife on Izzie duty.

He should've realized then what was going on. Weston tossed a handful of croutons into the salad bowl. He should've done a lot of things.

Growing up with two loving parents, he hadn't imagined there were women who wouldn't feel the same about their own offspring. It had taken him a long time—too long—to face what a mistake he'd made in marrying Jessica.

“They feel safer in bed with me when it gets dark,” Izzie continued.

Caroline nodded. “Of course they do.”

He stirred the pasta and stood watch. Caroline seemed intent, truly interested in what his child shared with her.

Izzie went from picture to picture hanging on the wall above the sofa. The Izzie Hall of Fame, he often joked.

“This is me when I was three at my birthday party. This is me when I started kindergarten.” She smiled. “I was so cute then, wasn't I, Daddy?”

Caroline answered before he could. “You still are, Ladybug.” She settled a quick kiss on the top of his daughter's head.

His heart thumped in his chest. Despite what Seth Duer said, despite what Caroline said about herself, she was very, very good with his child.

Izzie slipped her arm around Caroline's waist. “This is me when I lost my first tooth...”

For a moment, his eyes blurred. His motherless daughter was soaking up Caroline's attention and affection like the sand soaked in the rays of the sun. Uncomfortable with the emotions, he angled himself toward the oven to check the bread.

“Doesn't look like hot dogs. It's spaghetti night.”

He straightened to find Izzie perched on the stool, her elbows planted on the counter. Caroline eased into the adjacent chair. “What an astute observation.” He tweaked Izzie's nose.

Izzie fluttered her lashes at him. “It had to be spaghetti or hot dogs.”

Caroline placed her chin in her cupped hand. “Why's that?”

“Daddy's not a good cook.”

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Izzie beat him to the punch. “Spaghetti. Hot dogs. Or we go out.” Izzie made a show of exasperation. “We eat out a lot. And I mean a lot...”

“Hey.” He threw the dish towel slung over his shoulder at Izzie.

Izzie grinned and batted it away.

Caroline laughed. “It smells delicious. Are you sure I can't help you do something?”

“Daddy needs all the help he can get.”

He started around the island and growled. Shrieking, Izzie jumped off the stool. She ducked behind Caroline's chair. “Save me, Turtle Lady.”

Caroline's eyes sparkled. “With my life, Ladybug.”

He shook his head. “Didn't you say something about a fashion show before dinner, Miss Food Critic?”

Izzie giggled and danced out of his reach. “I'll be right back,” she promised, and hurried away.

When Weston returned to the small kitchen, he found Caroline stirring the hamburger browning in the skillet. “It was about to burn.”

He sighed. “Thanks. I get distracted.”

“I can see why.” Caroline smiled and his knees almost buckled. “Izzie's a wonderful distraction.”

She wasn't the only one.

Caroline gathered the plates and napkins. “I'll set the table for you.”

He tried for a nonchalance he didn't feel. Not with her so close and comfortable in his home. As if she belonged. As if she'd always belonged here with him and Izzie.

And he suddenly knew that no matter what anyone else said, no matter the leftover fears he carried from Jessica—what he wanted most right now was to get to know this beautiful and intelligent woman.

Not just for Izzie's sake, but for himself, too.

* * *

Caroline couldn't stop a surge of pride when Izzie emerged in the dress and shoes they'd picked out together.

Izzie flung her arms wide. “Ta-da!”

Caroline's gaze cut to Weston. A mixture of emotions flitted across his face.

“Aren't I beautiful, Daddy?”

He came out from behind the kitchen island. “The most beautiful nine-year-old girl I've ever seen.”

Izzie smoothed the ivory linen dress with the black lace princess collar and grinned. “Do I remind you of my mama?”

He flinched.

At the awkward beat of silence, Izzie touched a tentative hand to the silk headband they'd found to accessorize the outfit. “Daddy?” Her voice quivered, uncertain.

Blue fire blazed from his eyes with an emotion Caroline couldn't define. Raw pain. And anger?

Caroline rose from the stool, her hand outstretched as if to somehow protect Izzie. From what, she wasn't sure. Weston Clark would no more harm his daughter than she would. Yet something she'd glimpsed in his gaze—in his memories?—she suddenly feared might harm Izzie. “Weston...”

He jerked and seemed to come back to the man she knew—barely knew, she admitted. A man devoted to his child. A man—she swallowed—she very much wanted to get to know better.

Weston took Izzie's hand. “A Kiptohanock princess.” He twirled her under his arm.

Izzie laughed, and Caroline relaxed.

“A princess with her own tower,” Caroline teased. “A lighthouse tower I can't wait to see.”

“Dinner's almost ready.” He gave Izzie a brief hug. “Better change, Izz. Wouldn't want you to get sauce on your pretty party dress.” He nudged her toward the hallway.

“Aye-aye, Captain.” Izzie went into regulation stance and saluted him. “Wait till you see the dress we found for Caroline. It looks just like mine.” She pivoted on her heel and headed for her bedroom. “We match.”

Caroline bit her lip.

He cocked his head. “Match? Like in mother and daughter dresses?”

“I'm sorry, Weston. I didn't think about how it would...” She slumped. “I should've never let her talk me into buying it. Only I didn't bring a fancy dress with me across the Bay Bridge and—”

“And Izzie wanted you two to match so much.”

“I'm sorry.”

He returned to the kitchen. “You said that already.”

She hated that she could no longer gauge his expression. “I'll return the dress first thing tomorrow.”

Weston plated the food. “And disappoint Izzie?”

Her head started to pound. She cut her eyes to where she'd stashed her purse and the pills. If worse came to worst...

Who was she kidding? Worse had already come to worst one time too many times in Caroline's life. And now she'd made an unforgivable blunder with this man and the child she cared so much about.

She fluttered her hand, a motion he failed to see with his back to her. “I'll get a replacement. It'll be fine.”

“I'm well aware of how persuasive Izzie can be.” He faced her, plate in hand. “A replacement? Is that how you see yourself?”

She flushed. “I was only trying to be her friend. I'd never try to replace Izzie's mother.”

And then the strangest expression of all crossed Weston's face before his eyes shuttered. “Maybe you should,” he murmured as if to himself. “You'd be far better than the nothing she's had so far.”

Caroline's eyes widened. She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.

“I'm baaack...” Izzie floated into the room in her usual T-shirt and jeans.

Weston smiled. “Yes, you are and just in time for dinner.”

He pushed a plate at Caroline through the cutout separating the kitchen from the eating area. “Let's eat, shall we?”

Dinner was both less and more than Caroline expected. Less tension—none, in fact. More fun. More comfortable than she'd allowed herself to imagine. Small talk wasn't a problem with Izzie around.

Caroline found herself sharing memories of a childhood on the Shore. Happy memories of sun-drenched summers, crisp autumn skies, the beauty of the fog-shrouded tidal marsh in winter. And her vision for a marine rescue center.

The food was good. The conversation and company even better. In the glow of the hurricane lamp on the table, a portion of the loneliness she'd carried with her for so long seeped away.

Izzie managed to drag out of Caroline the moment she decided to become a turtle lady. It had begun with a turtle entangled in one of her father's nets in the old days before stricter fishing regulations were put in place.

“Dad and I carefully cut away the rope and lowered the turtle over the side of the
Now I Sea
. I was so proud because Dad said he needed my help. We watched the turtle—a loggerback, I realize now—slip beneath the blue-green waters of the inlet and disappear from sight.” Caroline leaned against the back of her chair.

Weston took a sip of sweet tea. “So it was your dad and that experience that inspired you to become an aquatic veterinarian.”

“I love my dad...” Izzie squeezed Weston's hand.

The gesture caught at Caroline's emotions, the ones she tried so hard to keep in check. “I love my dad, too. I just wish—” She blinked and looked away.

“Were you close?”

She gave him a sad smile. “When he could drag me away from the hurt animals I collected. He's always loved animals, too. Something we shared. Amelia was his fishing buddy. Lindi and Honey were Mom's little shadows.”

Caroline sighed. “It wasn't always easy finding a place for myself in the family.” She blew a breath between her lips. “Or now for that matter.”

“Beneath the hurt and anger, he loves you, too.”

“We don't always get do-overs, though.”

His eyes became hooded. “No, we don't.” He scooted back his chair. “So we need to make the most of today. Izzie, let's show Caroline the lighthouse.”

“The dishes.” Caroline rose. “Let me—”

“Dishes can wait.” He stacked their plates and left them on the counter. “Come on. Wait till you see what we've done.”

Izzie yanked open the wooden door in the wall Caroline had spied earlier. “Come on, you slowpokes.”

“We're keeping it closed off until the construction phase is over and the dust settles.” He ushered her through.

Caroline's breath hitched.

He grimaced. “Bear in mind, it's a work in progress.”

She touched his sleeve. “It's wonderful.”

Caroline surveyed the unplastered redbrick walls in the circular-shaped room. The exterior door probably led directly to the beach below. A curving staircase spiraled upward. Not unlike the chambered nautilus shell on the mantel above a restored hearth.

“My grandfather's. It was the only thing he brought with him when the Coast Guard closed this place in the 1950s. He kept it mounted on a shelf in his study in Richmond. Reminded him of home. Like you, he grew up here. From a long line of lightkeepers.”

Izzie dangled over the baluster railing at an angle that made Caroline dizzy. Proving Monkey Girl was an apt nickname. “Daddy says that's our family's special gift—we shine the light.”

He shrugged. “She makes it sound far more noble than—”

“In an increasingly dark world—” Caroline lifted her chin “—I'm not sure there's a more noble legacy to have than that.”

“This will be the new family room, and the cottage will be renovated once we move into our new quarters upstairs.” A light sparked in his eyes, which she'd not seen before. “The kitchen area will be enlarged, and the cottage bedrooms will become my office.”

“Amelia said you were an engineer.”

He gave her a lazy grin. “You've been talking about me with your sister?”

She fiddled with the long gold chain dangling at the front of her brown cardigan. “Don't flatter yourself. No more than idle curiosity, I assure you.”

He laughed.

Caroline's lips curved. “Though in looking at the progress you've made in such a short time, I'm guessing there's nothing idle about you. When do you find time to run your company?”

His face lost some of its humor. “I've put that on hold for a few months. My partner's running things in my absence. I'll be able to work from home once we complete the remodeling on the cottage, probably by Labor Day.”

Weston moved toward the stairs, where Izzie, ever impatient, had already disappeared. “Let me show you the rest.”

Topic changed. A touchy subject, his work sabbatical. Best left alone. Caroline would remember that next time. Her cheeks burned as she followed him up the staircase at a more sedate pace. Assuming there was going to be a next time.

Izzie's room was everything Caroline believed a princess in the tower's room should be. But there, Weston called a halt to the tour.

“You've got school tomorrow, Monkey Girl.”

Izzie groaned. “It's only eight o'clock...”

With a start, Caroline examined her wristwatch. The time had flown. Must be the company.

He herded Izzie downstairs to the cottage. She smiled as Izzie scooped up her stuffed animal menagerie. Yes, definitely the company.

“I'll be right back.” A pucker formed between his brows. “Promise you won't go anywhere. Okay?”