Buch lesen: «Daddy Says, ''I Do!''»

“Caramel.”

The unexpected reference to candy took her by surprise. “What?”

“Your eyes. They’re the color of the caramel my mom used to make for dipping apples when I was a kid. My brothers liked the crunch of hard candy, but I always wanted rich, swirling caramel.” His gaze roved over her face, but it wasn’t her eyes he finally homed in on.

Kara swallowed hard, biting back the urge to run her tongue over her lower lip. Not in anticipation of a childhood treat, but with a longing for the sweet promise of Sam’s kiss. The shock of her own desire was enough to lock her trembling knees in place. “My eyes are brown. Plain and simple.”

“Oh, something tells me there’s nothing simple about you.” His voice held a hint of teasing, but something told her he wasn’t joking. That he knew she had her secrets and wouldn’t stop until he discovered them all…

Dear Reader,

Sam Pirelli has been a great secondary character to write. In my first Clearville book, Sam provided some lighthearted moments as the easygoing, never serious youngest Pirelli brother.

In Daddy Says, “I Do!” the challenge was taking fun-loving bachelor Sam and turning him into true hero material. And what better way than to have him discover he’s a father?

Kara Starling is Sam’s opposite in almost every way. Serious and goal-oriented, she isn’t sure Sam is ready to raise her nephew on his own…Maybe because deep down, she’s already decided the three of them belong together!

I hope you enjoy Sam and Kara’s book!

Happy reading!

Stacy Connelly

About the Author

STACY CONNELLY has dreamed of publishing books since she was a kid, writing stories about a girl and her horse. Eventually, boys made it onto the page as she discovered a love of romance and the promise of happily ever after.

When she is not lost in the land of make-believe, Stacy lives in Arizona with her two spoiled dogs. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at stacyconnelly@cox.net or www.stacyconnelly.com.

Daddy Says,
“I Do!”
Stacy Connelly

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my fellow Cherish authors—

Reading your books over the years has been

a true pleasure. I am thrilled to be one of you

and have enjoyed getting to know some of you online

and in person. I wish continued success to you all!

Chapter One

Sam Pirelli grinned as he hit the gas on the classic Corvette he’d finished restoring that morning. The body still needed work—dings and dents on the faded red paint showed a lack of appreciation by the vehicle’s former owners. But under the hood, she was as good as new.

Better than new, he thought, considering the long hours he’d put in to bring her back to her high-speed glory.

On a straightaway, he could push her to the limit and see how fast she’d really fly, but the winding mountain roads leading back to his hometown were a hell of a lot more fun—the difference between riding on a train and riding on a rollercoaster. Of course, he couldn’t go as fast through the twisting turns—he wasn’t a total fool—but he knew these roads. And with the way the car was performing, hugging the asphalt and responding to only the slightest tap on the brake or slide of his hand on the wheel, he would swear she knew the way home, too.

The rush of speed and adrenaline fired his blood like little else could. The towering pines along the side of the road whipped by in a blur of dark green and brown, and the clear blue sky held the promise of a gorgeous summer day. With the wind blowing through the open windows, letting in the warm air and the powerful hum of the engine, Sam felt free.

A feeling he cherished more and more, recently.

Almost against his will, he glanced at the wedding invitation on the passenger seat.

Another freaking wedding.

His little sister, Sophia, had gotten hitched a month ago, but under the circumstances, Sam figured a wedding was for the best. Sophia was pregnant and while her new husband, Jake Cameron, wasn’t the baby’s biological father, everyone in the family knew he was totally committed to being the best husband and father. Jake and Sophia were crazy about each other, and Sam had come to terms with his baby sister getting married and becoming a mom.

He could almost hear her protesting that twenty-four wasn’t that young. And neither is twenty-nine, Sam. So when are you going to think about settling down?

He glanced at the invitation again, already imagining the rented tuxedo’s tight fit, and fought the urge to tug at the invisible noose around his neck.

Settling down? Not for him.

He pressed harder on the gas, leaving that thought in the dust.

Of course, less than two months ago, he would have sworn his oldest brother, Nick, felt the same way. He’d been married before and had his heart broken when his wife walked out on him and their daughter. He’d done a hell of a job as a single father for the past five years, and Sam would have thought he’d be the last guy—okay, second to last guy—to take a walk down the aisle.

But then Nick had met Darcy Dawson, and everything changed. Even Sam could see his brother was more relaxed now, quicker to smile or laugh.

And Sam was happy for his siblings, he really was. He just didn’t get it. Didn’t understand the need to settle down, to take on the responsibility for someone else’s happiness, to give up the freedom of being yourself in exchange for being half of something else….

This time Sam didn’t stop himself from rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

He’d tried talking to his middle brother, Drew, about the crazy rash of weddings striking their family, but when Sam complained about renting a tuxedo again, what had his brother said?

Maybe we should think about buying instead of renting.

It was a logical, cost-efficient suggestion, the kind Drew normally made, but something in his brother’s distant gaze worried Sam. A look that said Drew wasn’t thinking dollars and cents when it came to future weddings but hoping for one of his own.

Sam swore beneath his breath, feeling like the only single guy not to drink the commitment Kool-Aid.

Of course his parents were overjoyed. His mother was in a constant state of motion, helping plan one wedding after another with a baby shower for Sophia already in the works. His father was wise enough to stay out of the way, but he hadn’t stopped smiling—proud and happy with the additions to the family.

Vince and Vanessa were all about family ties and loyalty and responsibility. Yeah, that word had come up more than once recently.

So had love, a voice whispered through his thoughts. A lasting love…A love of a lifetime.

And maybe he had wondered for a lost-his-mind second what it would feel like to have a woman love him the way Sophia loved Jake, the way Darcy loved Nick. But the moment had come and gone faster than the speed limit sign that flew by as he took the next turn.

To have a woman love him that strongly, that completely, well, he’d have to fall for her, too, wouldn’t he? And Sam knew he didn’t have that depth of emotion inside him. Not anymore. Feelings, like women, came and went.

He liked keeping things fast and fun. He never saw any reason to start digging deeper. He certainly didn’t want any woman drilling into him, looking beneath the surface, only to find out what you see is what you get.

Trying to be something he wasn’t would only lead down a road to failure, and Sam hated to fail. Hated the raw disappointment of trying his best and knowing it would never be enough.

Shaking off those thoughts, he slowed as he neared town. The sheriff was a good friend’s father, but that would only make Cummings come down that much harder. He was glad he had slowed to a reasonable speed as he swerved around some debris in the middle of the road—broken bits of a lumber and trash. A blown-out tire was the next obstacle, and he slowed even more.

Up ahead, he could see a driver who hadn’t been as lucky. A light blue minivan was pulled off on the shoulder. It was one of those newer types—the kind meant to fool a family guy into thinking he wasn’t really driving a minivan. Only it wasn’t a guy who’d been behind the wheel.

A blonde woman stood beside the vehicle, holding up a cell phone as if testing wind speed.

Sam didn’t see enough room in the narrow gap between the road and the tree line to pull up behind her, so he drove past. He half expected the woman to try to flag him down—but the blonde stayed fixated to her useless phone, expecting technology to come to her rescue.

Sam grinned as he parked some yards ahead and climbed from the car. He liked rescuing damsels in distress. Broken-down vehicles were his specialty, of course, but he’d helped more than one ex-girlfriend move and had offered strong and silent support as they gave a current boyfriend the boot. He’d even stepped in a time or two when a whiskey-fueled drunk at the local bar started coming on too strong to a pretty waitress.

He wasn’t unfamiliar with a mixed expression of relief and gratitude. But it was not the expression he saw on this woman’s face as he drew closer.

Her hair was cut straight to her shoulders in a style that seemed to defy the possibility of a single strand falling out of place. Oversized sunglasses hid her eyes, but beyond the dark frames Sam could see a straight nose, high cheekbones and soft pink lips. Those features were perfect and perfectly free of makeup—this was a woman who thought she had to downplay her looks for the world to see beyond them. Yet it was the stubborn lift to her jaw and the frustration in this woman’s stance that caught his attention. She might look calm and cool on the outside, but inside…

He didn’t bother hiding a grin as loose gravel crunched beneath his work boots.

The woman was either passing through town or, he hoped, a tourist planning to stay awhile. No way was she local. She was dressed casually enough for travel in dark jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt, but even though the soft cotton hinted at curves beneath, the relaxed style didn’t seem to fit her the way a pinstriped jacket and pants would have.

Not the type to normally catch his eye. He went for casual, carefree women who matched him one-on-one when it came to having a good time. Except lately, well, he hadn’t been enjoying those good times as much as he used to. It wasn’t anything he could put his finger on, exactly. More a sense of something missing.

“Need some help?”

Sighing, she dropped her arm but kept her focus on the phone’s tiny screen. “I don’t suppose your phone would find a signal out here, would it?”

“Nope. But even if it did, it wouldn’t do much good since I don’t really need it to call myself.”

“Excuse me?”

Reaching out, he took the phone from her hand. He powered the tiny thing down and gave it back. Their fingers barely brushed, but the jolt Sam felt in that brief moment should have been enough to fire that phone up for life and send a signal clear to Mars, he thought, unnerved by the instant attraction.

The blonde froze in that same moment, too. A flush rose in her cheeks and her pale lips parted on an unspoken word, a silent awareness that he wasn’t alone in the powerful feeling.

Shaking off the crazy thought, he said, “Tow truck, roadside assistance, local mechanic—it’s all me.”

“All…you.” This whispered word held a note of recognition as the woman stepped back. The heel of her shoe landed on a rock, and her ankle twisted. She caught her balance before he could reach out to help, her arms held out almost as if warding him off.

Fighting the urge to lift up his own hands in an innocent-man gesture, Sam took a closer look. He swore that behind the dark shades she wore her eyes had widened almost as if she knew who he was. But he didn’t see how that was possible.

If they’d met, he would have remembered. Her face, her name, everything about her, especially this pull of attraction. He’d always been the type of guy to appreciate women, to recognize instant chemistry and follow wherever it might lead, and yet this felt different in ways he couldn’t explain. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine.”

Considering she still looked ready to jump out of her skin, Sam reached for his patented grin, thinking to put her at ease, as he held out his hand. “Sam Pirelli, Clearville’s local mechanic.”

The woman raised her arm automatically, and Sam laughed as he shook her hand around the phone she held. The spark was still there, but he almost breathed a sigh of relief that the wattage was less astronomical this time.

Flustered, she pulled back and slipped the cell into her pocket. “I’m, um, Kara…”

“Well, Kara, this van looks pretty new. I figure you have a spare.”

“Yes, of course. I took the van to the dealership for full service before the trip.”

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. The woman didn’t look the type to leave anything to chance. No detours or what-the-heck side trips for her. He stepped toward the van, but she countered his move almost as if blocking his path. Or trying to, at least, since five-five and a hundred pounds of feminine curves wasn’t much of a barricade.

“Look, I know what I’m doing,” he reassured her.

The breeze blew a lock of hair into her face, the silken strands catching on her bottom lip, and he rethought his take on her lack of makeup. A light gloss coated her mouth with a hint of color and maybe a touch of flavor. Strawberry, he’d bet. Kara didn’t seem the type to go for something like cherry or bubblegum, his young niece’s favorites thanks to her fashionable, soon-to-be stepmom, who owned a local cosmetics shop.

Without thinking, he reached up to brush the stray strand back behind her ear. “With cars,” he amended, admitting his own reluctance to pull back from the softness of her skin and keep an acceptable, we’ve-just-met distance. “I’ve spent the past few months restoring that beauty,” he added as he finally took that step back and pointed over his shoulder at the Corvette.

“Months, huh?” A world of doubt filled her voice, and his grin came a lot easier this time.

“I know she doesn’t look like much, but it’s what inside that counts.”

Okay, even he had to admit that sounded like a line, but he didn’t think he’d been obvious enough to deserve the sudden suspicion tightening her slender body. It was almost as if she knew what lines he would use and had heard them all before.

Shaking off the odd notion, he gestured to her car. “So, the spare? I can have that flat changed and you can be on your way to…”

“Clearville,” she admitted as she stepped back and let him walk over to her vehicle.

“Hey, what do you know? My hometown.” Sam decided not to think too closely about the hairpin turn of excitement his pulse took when he realized Kara wasn’t simply passing through.

As he walked by the van, a movement in the side window caught his attention. He did a double take when a small face stared back at him from the other side of the glass. A young boy blinked owlishly as if just waking up. He frowned with surprising seriousness, his expression clearing only slightly when he spotted Kara standing outside the vehicle.

She had a kid. Sam supposed he should have expected it, considering the soccer-mom minivan Kara drove, but what he hadn’t expected was the sudden jab of disappointment. Kids meant a level of responsibility miles above what he was used to, so he tended to stay away. From kids and from single moms.

“Cute kid,” he said, almost automatically, before taking a second glance at the boy in the van.

He was cute. All that blond curly hair sticking up in every direction, the dimple in one sleep-reddened cheek, the wide green eyes beneath straight-set brows. That sense of déjà vu tugged at Sam again. Maybe it was the look in the boy’s eyes, he thought. Something a little sad…a little lost, that reminded him of his niece, Maddie, who’d had the same sad, lost look to her eyes when she was that age and still struggling to understand why her mother had left.

Or maybe it was simply the resemblance the boy had to his mother, standing still and silent a few feet away, her arms crossed at her waist. The defensiveness and vulnerability of her stance caught hold of something inside him. An unfamiliar feeling that made him want to shoulder whatever burden she was carrying, break down the carefully constructed walls around her, and let her know everything was going to be okay….

Shoving the crazy thought aside, Sam focused on the one thing he could actually do for the woman and went in search of her spare tire.

Tension had spun her nerves into glass in that brief moment when Sam Pirelli stared at her nephew, and Kara Starling waited for the words that would shatter the last of her composure into a thousand sharp pieces.

Cute kid.

Her breath escaped in a whoosh of sound hidden by the breeze blowing through the pines. Relief left her nearly weak-kneed, and she gave hesitant glance in the mechanic’s direction. A soft whistling came from the back of the vehicle as he worked on getting the spare from beneath the van’s undercarriage. He didn’t seem interested in anything other than changing the tire.

He’d been interested in something more a minute ago, her conscience taunted.

She hadn’t missed the spark of attraction that rocked them both when his hand met hers. Sam Pirelli was a gorgeous guy, but then, she’d expected him to be. Dark blond hair peeked out beneath a backward baseball cap that had seen better days. The same could be said for the washed-out gray T-shirt stretched across his wide chest and the threadbare jeans. But Kara was struck by the thought that even a designer suit would fade a little when a woman was caught by the spark in his green eyes and the bright flash of his smile.

Sam Pirelli wasn’t the kind of man who tried to impress women. He was impressive without even trying. And his charmer’s grin told her he knew it.

And as much as she longed to, Kara couldn’t pretend she’d been unaffected by the brush of his warm, rough skin against hers. With anyone else, that magnetic pull of attraction would have been inconvenient. With this man it stirred up feelings of guilt on too many levels to count and whipped already whirling protective instincts into a frenzy.

This wasn’t how she’d expected her first meeting with Sam Pirelli to go. But then nothing had gone as Kara expected in the month since her sister had been killed in a plane crash.

Opening the side door to the minivan, she kept her smile in place when Timmy scrambled back into the booster chair. He dragged his favorite stuffed animal, a slightly crosseyed green dinosaur, into his lap and hugged it tightly. The boy had always been smart for his age, but also shy and quiet. He’d withdrawn even more since his mother’s death, and despite Kara’s best attempts she’d been unable to draw him out. Her heart ached for the pain he was feeling and at her own inability to make that pain go away.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she said softly.

After they’d stopped for lunch at a small gas station restaurant along the highway, the little boy had fallen asleep. She’d hoped he would rest for the final leg of their journey, but this unexpected stop had shot that plan out of the water.

Along with her other plan of how to best handle Sam Pirelli.

Awareness of the man working at the back of the van fluttered through her, but Kara pushed it aside and focused on her nephew. When Timmy stayed silent, staring at his shoes over the dinosaur’s furry head, she said, “We’re almost to Clearville now. Why don’t you come on out and walk around for a bit?”

“Then can we go home?” he asked, a heartbreaking amount of hope filling his voice.

Did he think going home would mean returning to the small apartment he’d shared with his mother? That going home would mean finding Marti waiting for him?

Kara took a shallow breath, aware that anything deeper than the slight, tentative motion would cause more pain to her bruised and broken heart. She’d done her best to explain that his mother was in heaven now, where she would always watch over him. But Kara didn’t know how much the four-year-old boy understood.

Some days, she still didn’t understand her sister’s death. Not when Marti had been the most alive person Kara had ever known. Her little sister had never done anything half measure. She embraced life and everything in it and rushed into every adventure with a live for the day verve Kara had long admired…and envied. But in the end, that never-consider-tomorrow attitude was partly responsible for her sister’s death.

Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back quickly. Timmy was all that mattered now, and Kara was determined to do right by him and by her sister. Even if it meant taking this trip to Clearville and proving to herself that life in this small northern California town was not in Timmy’s future.

Though she longed to say they’d be back home in no time, she refused to make promises she might not be able to keep. As much as she loved her sister, Kara knew the young boy had heard his fair share of empty words and promises of tomorrows that had never come.

And now never would.

His mother wasn’t going to be there for any of the milestones of his life, or the simple everyday moments so easy to take for granted. The fresh pain of the loss of her sister combined with an old ache Kara refused to acknowledge.

“We’re going to stay for a little while,” she finally told her nephew.

He heaved a huge sigh. “Okay.” And then with the attention span of a typical four-year-old, he scrambled around onto his knees and gazed out the back window. “What’s that man doing to our car?”

That man. Sam Pirelli was a total stranger to Timmy. If she kept quiet, he would stay that way. Indecision and guilt tied her stomach into knots. In the month since the reading of Marti’s will, Kara had done her best to ignore the feeling, but it was back. Stronger than ever, she thought as Sam caught her watching and flashed her a wink.

“His name is Sam Pirelli,” she heard herself say softly before she could talk herself out of it. “He’s a mechanic, and he’s changing out a flat tire for us. Isn’t that nice?”

Timmy shrugged, lacking the interest in cars and trucks that most little boys possessed. Reaching out, she smoothed the cowlick stuck up at the top of his head, her fingers sifting through his curls.

Would the hair hidden by Sam Pirelli’s baseball cap be as soft?

The wayward thought caught her off guard, and she snatched her hand back as if she’d actually touched Sam’s hair. “Why don’t we go take a look?”

Timmy climbed from the minivan, clinging tightly to the stuffed dinosaur and to Kara’s hand as he looked around. “I don’t like it here. It’s dark.”

“Dark?”

“Uh-huh,” he said as he eyed the trees lining the edge of the highway. The thick, dense pines, a far cry from the light, airy palms in San Diego, cast long, jagged shadows and provided a formidable barrier beyond the road. “I think there’s monsters.”

“Timmy.” Kara bit her tongue before she could provide the logical argument that there were no such thing. Monsters might not be real, but the little boy’s fears were, and that wasn’t something she could “reason” out of him, no matter what her parents thought.

You’re only encouraging his fears by pandering to them, her father had argued.

It never failed to amaze Kara how Marcus Starling, a brilliant surgeon, could know everything there was to know about the heart and yet be so clueless about his grandson’s feelings.

Honestly, though, she didn’t know why she’d been surprised. Her father had never made much of an attempt to understand his daughters either. But his own feelings when it came to this trip had been more than clear.

The fall semester starts in two weeks. You have a responsibility to the college and your students.

Fortunately, her boss at the small private college where Kara taught had been more understanding, lining up part-time teachers to cover her classes in case she needed more time off. Explaining that to her father had been as useless as trying to explain Timmy’s fear of monsters.

Have you considered how this leave of absence might affect your chances of being named chair of the department?

Kara already regretted telling her father about the upcoming vacancy. The current chair of the English department was stepping down the next year, and she’d been both surprised and pleased that she was one of the professors under consideration to replace him. But the position was anything but a sure thing and if the faculty chose another teacher…well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d disappointed her father.

Giving a resigned sigh, Kara gave her nephew’s hand a reassuring squeeze. We all have our monsters, don’t we, Timmy?

Before she could come up with a response to soothe her nephew’s fears, the off-key whistling from the back of the van was followed by a soft thud. Kara turned to watch Sam Pirelli lift the spare. The faded cotton stretched across his wide shoulders, and the bulge of his muscular thighs tested the worn seams of his jeans as he crouched down to maneuver the tire into place.

Kara swallowed, her mouth drier than the mild temperature could account for.

“Wow, he’s superstrong.”

The whistling stopped for a moment at Timmy’s awefilled comment, only to start up again a little louder, and if possible, a little cockier. The flush of embarrassment on her face burned hotter when Sam glanced over his shoulder with a knowing grin. It was almost as if he’d overheard her raving about his super strength, which was ridiculous because she certainly wasn’t impressed with his muscular arms or chest or—

Oh, who was she kidding? She was just as impressed as her nephew, if for very different reasons. She could only hope she was slightly better at hiding it.

“Okay, you’re good to go. You’ll want to replace the spare before you head home…” His voice trailed off as if expecting her to fill in where she was from, but that, like her last name, was information Kara wasn’t willing to give.

“I’ll do that.”

“Here.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “Stop by the shop and I’ll set you up.”

“Thank you. What do I owe you?”

He shook his head before she could finish the question. “Don’t worry about it.”

Kara frowned. She didn’t like being indebted to anyone, and she was especially uneasy about owing Sam Pirelli. Maybe because, deep down, she knew what she owed him most of all was the truth. Shoving the thought aside, she said, “I owe you for your time.”

“Okay, then.” The glint in his eyes should have warned her what was coming, but she was still caught off guard when he announced, “Dinner.”

“Excuse me?”

“You said you wanted to repay me, so I’m thinking dinner. Nothing too fancy. It was just a tire, not like replacing the carburetor or anything.”

His smile threatened to shake something loose inside her. What would it be like to have those teasing lips flirting with hers? Her heart skipped a beat, but she’d long ago learned the dangers of dancing to that foolish rhythm. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Hey, it was your idea in the first place. You’re the one who insisted on paying.”

“And you always take sandwiches over cold hard cash?”

“I was thinking maybe steak and potatoes, but if you’re craving sandwiches—”

Throwing her hands out to her sides, Kara protested, “I did not say I was craving sandwiches!”

Sam grinned again, stopping any further protest as she realized he wasn’t looking at her. Glancing down, she saw Timmy watching the exchange with wide-eyed interest. He looked slightly puzzled, as if wondering what his normally calm, cool and collected aunt was doing standing on the side of the road, arguing with the most infuriating man.

It was a question she had to ask herself, and she felt her face heat as she looked back at Sam. Seeming to realize he’d pushed as far as he should, he flicked the edge of the business card she still held. “Don’t forget to get that tire replaced.”

He turned to walk back to his beat-up-looking car, and Kara knew she should let it go. Just let him walk away. But the words escaped before she could stop them and she called out, “I’m going to pay for the new tire.”

He turned with his hand braced on the driver’s side door. “No problem. I’m all for dessert, too. You know where to find me when you decide what you’re hungry for.”

The ridiculous, arrogant parting line was still ringing in her ears when Sam’s car sped off with a squeal of tires and cloud of dust. What she was hungry for…

Kara snorted in response as she helped Timmy back into his booster seat. When it came to men like Sam Pirelli, she was on a permanent diet!

“What’d you say, Aunt Kara?”

“Nothing, sweetie.” Looking up from snapping the belt at his waist, her heart stuttered as she met the little boy’s gaze. She swallowed as recognition hit hard, and an unwanted thought drifted through her mind for the first time.

He has his daddy’s eyes.