Buch lesen: «The Instant Family Man»

To my husband, Jeff, because he is amazing—as a dad, as a husband and as a man.

He’s the family man I always dreamed of meeting and am blessed to have married.

Contents

Cover

Excerpt

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

When Peyton Reynolds was a little girl, tearing through her grandmother’s house on her way to whatever excitement waited outside the front door, her grandma Lucy would reach out, corral her granddaughter in a fresh-baked-bread-scented hug and say, “Goodness gracious, child, you gotta slow down. Life is just gonna pass you by if you don’t learn to take a breath or two.”

Peyton never had learned to slow down. She’d taken every day of her life ten steps at a time, running from high school to college, graduating in two and a half years instead of four, and putting in more hours at Winston Interior Design than any other designer—earning her four promotions in three years. Then, a month before her twenty-third birthday, her world turned upside down when her older sister Susannah died in a car accident, suddenly leaving forty pounds of cuteness and need in Peyton’s full-time care.

In that instant, Peyton had put the brakes on her rising career while she figured out how to be a surrogate mom to her niece, Madelyne, and still stay on the fast track in the design industry. She’d been so very close to a promotion to associate, just a step below her goal of partner, but in the past four weeks, everything she had worked for started to fall apart. And it wasn’t just her career self-destructing that had Peyton worried...

It was the quiet. The words unspoken, the tears unshed.

Maddy hadn’t grieved, hadn’t asked about her mother, hadn’t wanted to talk about it. She’d gone on playing with her toys and eating her meals and brushing her teeth, but her mood was more somber, her heart more distant. Her laughter dulled, almost silenced.

That sad quiet was what finally spurred Peyton to go back home from Maryland, arriving yesterday in Stone Gap, North Carolina, one of those small Southern towns where it seemed the world stopped spinning. Where the trees and green landscape seemed to offer peace, and quiet, and healing. And where the last man on earth she wanted to see lived. A man who had no idea she was about to upend his world in a very big way.

For a very good reason. Peyton could only pray that he would see it that way, too.

“Auntie P?”

The soft voice of Madelyne, four years old next week and as beautiful as a ray of sunshine, rose from the space on the carpet between the two double beds in their hotel room. Peyton’s only niece, and the only real family she had left. There were times in the days since her sister had died that Peyton wondered how she could move forward, take a breath, without letting the grief drown her. Then she’d look at Maddy, at her bouncy blond curls and her lopsided, toothy smile, and a blanket of warmth would surround Peyton’s heart. For Maddy, Peyton would do absolutely anything.

Peyton came around the beds, then bent down and offered her niece a warm smile. “What do you need, kiddo?”

“Can you play dolls with me? I gots a house set up and everything.” Maddy waved toward an empty suitcase tipped on its side, flanked by a quartet of blond-haired, blue-eyed Barbie dolls in various stages of mismatched glamour. The moment Maddy had arrived back in Stone Gap, she had made herself at home in the hotel room, taking over every square inch of space with toys and clothes, a bright explosion among the tired and boring cream-colored decor.

“Wish I could, but remember I told you I had a meeting this morning? My friend Cassie is coming over to watch you.”

“I like Cassie,” Maddy said. “She always likes to play dolls.”

“She sure does, buttercup!” The loud, happy voice of Cassie Bertram boomed into the room, followed immediately by the woman herself—platinum blonde, dressed in a bright pink sundress and flip-flops sporting giant plastic flowers. Cassie had always been larger than life, and that was part of what Peyton loved about her best friend.

A peacock, Grandma Lucy had dubbed Cassie, for all her sass and snap. Cassie lit up a room when she walked into it and lived her life out loud, in ways that Peyton could only envy. Cassie had traveled all the opposite roads from Peyton—married shortly after high school, settling down in Stone Gap with her husband, and then becoming a mother to five kids while working part-time in the school office. Cassie did the bake sales and cookie walks and all the craziness that came with kids, and more often than not, she sported glitter glue on her arms from the craft project du jour. She’d been Peyton’s first call when Peyton had decided to come back home for a couple of weeks, and her biggest support system in the chaotic weeks since Maddy had become Peyton’s charge. Cassie had visited Peyton often enough over the years that Maddy knew her well and loved her like another aunt.

“I’ve got a couple hours before I have to pick up the youngest rug rat at preschool,” Cassie said to Peyton. “Is that enough time?”

“More than enough. It won’t take me long to tell a certain someone that he should...” She glanced down at her motherless niece, then stepped toward the window and motioned for Cassie to follow, saying “Be a grown-up. And do his part. Or walk away for good.”

Cassie grinned. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall to watch this particular conversation unfold.”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll make a logical, reasonable argument, and he’ll see the wisdom in my plan.”

“Logical and reasonable? With that hunk of testosterone?” Cassie grinned. “Good luck, honey.”

Hunk of testosterone. Definitely three words that described Luke Barlow. Or had when Peyton had been a young, infatuated high school freshman, watching the much older Luke turn his charm on Susannah. Her sister’s old boyfriend—and also Maddy’s irresponsible, never-involved father. According to Susannah, he’d washed his hands of her from the day she told him she was pregnant. She might have let it go, but Peyton sure as hell wasn’t going to let the man get away with shirking his fatherly responsibilities, not for one more second. Especially now, when Peyton was nearly at her wit’s end. Every decision Peyton made right now was driven by the urgent need to make Maddy whole again.

“How’s the little peanut doing?” Cassie asked softly, as if reading Peyton’s mind.

“Same. Won’t talk about it. She plays and eats and does what she’s told, but there’s a...wall there. I can’t get past it.”

Cassie put a hand on Peyton’s shoulder. “It’ll get better.”

Peyton sighed. That was what she had been telling herself for a month now, and if anything, things were getting worse, not better. “I hope so. And I really hope I’m making the right decision today.”

“Auntie P?” Maddy rose, peered over the bed at Peyton. “Are you leavin’?”

“Just for a little bit, sweetie.”

Maddy’s face flushed, and her right hand curled tight around the hem of her shirt. “Are you comin’ right back?”

Peyton swung over to Maddy and lowered herself to her niece’s level. “Right back, sweetie. I promise. Cassie will be here the whole time, and she’s going to play dolls with you.”

Maddy’s lower lip quivered. “How long’s a little bit?”

Peyton glanced at Cassie. These were the days that made it hard. Explaining to Maddy that just because she walked out the door didn’t mean she was going to disappear forever. “Faster than you can watch Frozen.”

“And we’ll sing ‘Let it Go’ together, munchkin.” Cassie grinned at Maddy. “I’ll dub you honorary princess for the morning, too.”

“Okay,” Maddy said, though there wasn’t much enthusiasm in her voice. She dropped back onto her Barbie-riddled carpet space and went back to her dolls. Every couple of seconds, her gaze flicked to Peyton, and her shoulders tensed with worry.

Cassie and Peyton crossed to the other side of the bed and lowered their voices again. “You’re doing the right thing, Pey. That poor little thing needs family and you need help. And if that foolish man can’t be bothered to spend time with that precious gift from heaven...” Cassie cast a smile in Maddy’s direction. “I’d be glad to keep an eye on that little doll.”

“Thanks, but you have your hands full with that basketball team you gave birth to and everything else you’re doing. Besides, it’s his responsibility to do the right thing.” And the sooner Peyton got there to make sure Luke did that, the better. Peyton grabbed her purse, then darted over to plant a quick kiss on Maddy’s cheek. “See you in a little bit, sweetie. Be good for Cassie.”

“I will.” Maddy’s eyes were round and full, but she pressed her lips together and affected a brave front.

“A little bit,” Peyton said softly, ruffling Maddy’s curls. “I promise.”

At the door, Cassie drew Peyton into a tight, quick hug. “Good luck. And go easy on Luke. He’s a flirt, for sure, but he’s always been a nice guy and maybe he had a good reason for what he did.”

“The only good reason is being stuck in a cave for the past four years. Something I can arrange, if need be.” Peyton grinned.

“I hope you’re only half kidding,” Cassie called after her. Peyton just grinned again and slipped out the door.

But when she climbed into her car and started the engine, the frustration and worry she’d been feeling for weeks flared anew. Luke Barlow was the town’s most eligible bachelor for as long as anyone could remember—one of those charming, handsome, could-do-no-wrong playboys—but who had never had anything to do with his daughter. A daughter who had lost her mother, and desperately needed a caring father.

Peyton remembered those tearful conversations with Susannah, who said she told Luke about the baby the minute she’d taken the home pregnancy test. When he’d told her she was on her own, nineteen-year-old Susannah had left town, leaving behind her chaotic childhood home—the Reynolds parental storm mitigated too rarely by visits to grandma’s when they were little—determined to raise her baby alone. Peyton had followed soon after, switching colleges to be near her sister, and working part-time all through school, helping Susannah financially, emotionally—in all the ways Luke should have and never did.

How could anyone not want to be a part of Maddy’s life? From the second she had held her niece in her arms, Peyton had fallen in love. She’d spent every spare minute with Susannah and Maddy, even moving Susannah into her condo in Baltimore so she could be sure they had a solid roof over their heads and a full refrigerator. It had been odd at first, coming home to the responsibilities of a full house when she was barely a grown-up herself, but Peyton had found she liked having a pseudo-family. And though her relationship with her sister had been rocky at best—the two of them butting heads daily on Susannah’s refusal to give up her partying habits—the blooming bond with Maddy had been the highlight of Peyton’s days.

How long’s a little bit?

The heartbreaking words from her niece, so unsure and lost in the wake of her mother’s death, told Peyton that Maddy needed a father, now more than ever, and the days of Luke Barlow running around town, as footloose as a loose kite in the wind, were over.

Peyton double-checked the address, then drove the few miles across town to Luke’s house, located only a few blocks away from where the Barlow boys had grown up. She parked her car, strode up the walk, then pressed the doorbell, reminding herself to try to be calm, logical. To keep emotion out of it.

Uh, yeah, considering the riot in her gut right now, she had a better chance of being hit by a snowstorm.

The bell chimed, a dog barked, and then...nothing. Peyton waited in the hot North Carolina air, while the cicadas buzzed in the deep woods to the east side of the house.

Luke lived in a modest bungalow, which surprised her. A house smacked of dependability. A mortgage or a lease. Permanence. She would have never thought he would buy a house, much less live in one.

An old wooden swing much like the one Grandma Lucy had hung for Peyton when she was a little girl drifted in the breeze on ropes hanging from an oak tree just down the hill sloping away from the driveway. The painted white mailbox hoisted a bright red mail-to-take flag, while an audience of pansies waved in the shade underneath. The whole property seemed to beckon her back in time, to the days when life had been unfettered, uncomplicated.

She rang the bell again. Waited some more. The dog kept barking, but there was no movement from inside. A restored Mustang convertible sat in the driveway, like some throwback to the ’80s. Peyton shifted her weight, then pressed the bell one more time. If there was any justice in the world, Luke would have gotten bald and fat in the years since she’d last seen him.

The dog barked again, then shushed. A clatter of footsteps, and a moment later, the door was opened.

Luke Barlow stood on the other side, looking sleep-rumpled and scruffy with a five o’clock shadow dusting his chin. Her gut tensed, her breath caught. Definitely not bald or fat. At all. If anything, he looked better than he did when he was in high school, damn him.

“What can I do for you?” he said.

There wasn’t a hint of recognition in his eyes. She told herself she wasn’t disappointed. After all, she’d grown up a lot in the past five years, ditched the nerdy glasses and khaki pants for contacts and skirts. She’d let her hair grow long, made workouts a daily item on her to-do list and developed more curves than she’d had at graduation. When she was younger, she’d been the annoying little sister, while outgoing, flamboyant Susannah had always taken center stage. Now, though, she was an adult. A woman.

Hopefully, a woman to be reckoned with.

“I take it you don’t remember me,” she said. “I’m Peyton. Susannah Reynolds’s younger sister.”

Now recognition dawned in his eyes. His gaze swept over her, lit surprise in his features as he took in her dress, low heels, long hair. “Peyton? Peyton Reynolds? Holy hell, I haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing here?”

Luke’s deep Southern voice slid through her like honey drizzled over toast. Once upon a time, she’d had a crush on him. But that was a long time in the past, and a lot had happened in the years since. Except his damned voice still made parts of her warm.

She drew herself up. Calm, cool, collected, that was her. Maybe if she thought it enough, the words would be true. “I came by to...see you.”

She’d meant to say talk to you, but her eyes lit on Luke’s tall, trim frame, and the word stuttered into see. He was wearing a bathing suit, the dark blue trunks hanging low on his hips, exposing a defined, tan chest, with a scattering of dark hair running a tempting line down the center of his belly. Her gaze followed that line, then she caught herself and jerked her attention back to his face. Damn. What was wrong with her? She was no longer a silly schoolgirl with an unrequited teenage crush on the older captain of the football team.

He quirked a lopsided grin. Busted. “See me?”

“Talk to you.”

The dog took advantage of the open door and scampered onto the porch. Luke waved a hand at the dog. “Charlie, sit.”

The terrier glanced up at Luke, as if to say, Do I really have to? When Luke didn’t relent, the dog let out a sigh and plopped onto the porch. His tail swished against the wooden floor, hopeful, anxious. It took a second, but then Peyton remembered.

“Is that...” Peyton asked, as she leaned forward, peering at the lopsided brown ears, the big chocolate eyes, “...the same dog?”

A slow smile spread across Luke’s face. “You remember that?”

Oh, she remembered a lot of things about Luke. Some memories that made her heart trip, some that tripped her common-sense alarms. “I thought you said you were going to bring him to a shelter.”

Luke shared his smile with the dog, then shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a softy.”

Peyton’s doubts about bringing Luke into Maddy’s life eased a fraction. But only a fraction. Just because the man had kept the dog they’d rescued years ago didn’t make him a suitable parent. And if he wasn’t going to be a good father figure, she was damned well going to make sure he either signed over custody or at least paid child support. He owed Maddy that much, at a minimum. Susannah might have been easy on Luke, but her younger sister had no intentions of doing the same. She needed to keep all that in mind and not get distracted by feelings half a decade old.

Luke gestured toward the wicker love seat and chair on the veranda. A ceiling fan swirled a lazy breeze over the white furniture and pale gray plank floor. Peyton’s gaze kept drifting to Luke’s bare chest. Damn, he looked good. Too good. He was distracting. Would it be rude to ask him to put on a shirt, so she could think with the rational side of her brain?

“So what brings you by?” Luke asked, settling into the love seat and draping one arm over the back.

She had thought this through on the long drive from Baltimore to Stone Gap. As much as she wanted to leap to the reason she was here, she needed to finesse the situation first. Feel Luke out. See if he had changed. Then she would decide which tactic to take. It was the way she approached her work—get a feel for the space, the dimensions, the history, the very air and let that influence the tone of her design. She perched on the opposite end of the small wicker couch. “Just wanted to catch up with some old friends while I was visiting town. I saw Cassie Bertram this morning and heard you were living on this side of town. I was in the area and thought I’d stop by. So, how have you been?”

If he thought her reasoning for coming to see him was strange, he didn’t show it. “Good. Can’t complain.”

Awkward silence. She flicked her gaze away from his chest—what did he have on there, magnets?—and at the clapboard siding. “Nice little house you have here.”

“Thanks. It’s a rental, but I like it a lot. Kinda growing on me. And it has a pool. Pretty much all I need is that and a fridge.” He grinned.

“To make it party central?”

He scoffed. “If I was eighteen, yeah, maybe. I’m still a pretty simple guy, Peyton. Though my mother keeps haunting garage sales and tries to talk me into crazy things like spice organizers, whatever the hell those are. Jack’s built me a table and chairs, so I guess you could say I’m settled in here.”

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the party-hard guy she remembered. Maybe he had matured a little. “Jack’s building furniture?”

“Building whatever he can with a hammer and nails. He likes working with his hands. I convinced him to get serious about that a few months ago, after he got home from Afghanistan and was kind of at loose ends, trying to figure out what to do next. Now he’s got business cards and orders and everything.”

“And Mac? How is he?” She hadn’t seen the oldest Barlow brother since graduation. He’d been the studious one, excelling in school, graduating at the top of the class.

Luke chuckled. “Still the rebel without a cause. Working a zillion hours a week at building the Maxwell Barlow empire, I’m sure.”

She wasn’t surprised. Jack had always been the adventurous one, strong and loyal, a good choice for the military. She had no doubt he’d be as excellent at furniture, putting the same care and detail into that job, as he had everything else in his life. Mac was the overachiever, constantly trying to do more, better and faster than anyone else. Luke had always sat square in the middle, great at sports and popularity, but so-so with academics. She didn’t remember him being particularly ambitious, but then again, none of the girls who had wilted at the sight of Luke cared if he only had a part-time job. Now, however, a regular paycheck was a necessity for supporting a child. “And, uh, where are you working now?”

He leaned back against the love seat. “Why does this feel like a quiz?”

“I’m just...curious.” She smiled. “Haven’t seen you in a long time and I was just catching up.”

“Yeah, catching up. That’s what we’re doing.” Reservations still lingered in his gaze, and she got the feeling he was assessing her as much as she was assessing him. “I’ve been working with my dad in his garage. Jack and I were helping him out back when he had his knee surgery, but now that Jack is getting busy with his new business and my dad is thinking about retiring, I’ve been there more often.” Luke ran a hand through his hair, and his eyes took on a faraway look for a moment. “The future of Gator’s Garage is still up in the air, though.”

“You aren’t going to take it over?”

“That’s a lot of responsibility. A lot of hours. And a long-term commitment.” He grinned again. “Those three things aren’t usually on my personal résumé.”

“I remember.” She tried to act as if it was a joke, but inside her chest, disappointment was sinking her dream of Luke being the parent that Maddy needed. Only now did Peyton realize how much she’d been hoping Luke would have grown up in the years since she’d last seen him, and that he would want to be an involved parent. Not that Peyton couldn’t raise Maddy on her own, but it would be good for Maddy to have a male role model, and even better, a biological parent who could be a big part of her life.

“So how about you?” Luke said. “You look...amazing.”

She blushed, and cursed herself for it. “Thanks.”

“You said you’re visiting Stone Gap. Where is home now?”

And the tables were turned. Because he was trying to beat her at her own game or because he was truly interested? “Baltimore. I’m an interior designer and I work with a relatively large firm there.”

He considered that and nodded. “Makes sense. You were always the kind of kid who wanted to make things more beautiful, leaving flowers in my manly tree forts and painting your bike’s spokes pink and purple. What am I saying? Kid? You’re a beautiful woman now.”

Two compliments in the space of a minute. The blush crept into her cheeks again, but she reminded herself that this was Luke, the man who could charm the leaves off the trees in the middle of summer.

“Well, thank you. Again.”

A car went past, its noisy muffler putting a pause in their conversation. “How’s your sister?” Luke asked.

She blinked. The air took on a chill, the sky seemed to darken. “You don’t know?”

“Know...what?”

Peyton drew in a breath, then pushed out the words. “Susannah was...” Her voice wavered, her breath skipped. Damn, why was this still so hard to say? “She was...killed in a car accident a month ago.”

Luke sat back against the seat, his face paling. “Really? That’s terrible. I hadn’t... I hadn’t heard. She was so young. Way too young.” He cursed, then leaned forward, his blue eyes intent on hers. “Oh, God, Peyton, I’m so sorry. Are you...okay?”

He touched her hand, a gesture of comfort, connection. The tight lock Peyton always held on her emotions loosened, and tears rushed to her eyes. She’d never expected him to ask her how she was. For a second, she wanted to tell the truth. I’m falling apart. My life is a mess. Everything I thought I had under control is careening off a cliff and for the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do. “I’m...I’m fine.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, his hand curling over hers, solid, there.

She started to speak, then realized he’d left off the most important part. No questions about his daughter? About how Maddy was coping with the loss of her mother? Did the man feel no remorse that he had left Susannah to fend for herself for so long?

She tugged her hand out of his, reached into her purse and withdrew her phone. Peyton turned the phone to face Luke. Maddy’s picture, a recent one from a happy day at the park shortly before Susannah died, filled the screen. “Aren’t you even going to ask how she’s doing?”

“Pretty girl,” Luke said. Charlie the dog padded over and lay down at Luke’s feet. “Is she yours?”

“No, she’s not mine. You know that. I can’t believe you don’t even recognize her.”

“I don’t know that kid at all, sorry.” Luke shrugged. “What is she, three? Four? Good age. They’re still cute then, but don’t have diapers. I think. I don’t know much about kids, though.”

“Because you have done your level best to avoid your own.” She stopped herself from adding, you selfish, self-centered jerk. Good thing she hadn’t fallen for that whole concerned-about-you act, with the nice little touch of his hand on hers.

“My own? My own what?” Luke met Peyton’s gaze, wariness creeping into his expression. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“This is Madelyne. Your daughter. Remember?”

The words hung between them in the heavy, humid air, lead weights on the end of a fishing line. Luke’s mouth opened, closed. The cicadas kept up their steady hum in the heat.

“Mine? But how... What...” He shook his head, cast another long glance at the photo of Madelyne. “Is this some kind of joke? I don’t have a kid.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Luke. I know my sister told you about the baby and you wanted nothing to do with her. Left her to raise Maddy on her own. Well, now Maddy has lost her mother and I think it’s about damned time her father was responsible and helped take care of her or at least supported her financially. She’s gone through enough for one little girl.”

There, she’d said it. And without all the cursing that usually accompanied that lecture in her head.

Luke tapped the phone’s screen. “I don’t know anything about this kid, Peyton. I don’t know what your sister told you, but Susannah never told me she was pregnant.”

A doubt tickled the back of her mind. “She said she did, Luke. She told me a hundred times how you broke up with her the instant she said she was pregnant. Either way, how can you not see the truth when it’s right here? Don’t you see your eyes and your smile in that face?”

He took her phone and held it closer. He studied Maddy’s picture for a long, long time, then hesitated before handing the phone back, almost reluctantly. “Maybe. She does look like me, a lot like me. You gotta believe me, though, Peyton. I had no idea Susannah had a baby. That’s the God’s honest truth.”

Was it possible? Would Susannah lie? Her sister had never been the most conventional of women or mothers, but lying about something as big as this? Peyton couldn’t see why Susannah would do such a thing, even though the doubt still haunted her thoughts. Susannah, the irresponsible. Susannah, the flighty. Susannah, who had told lies to the grocery clerk and the bill collectors and the boss of the week. Would she really have lied to her younger sister—about Maddy?

“Well, now you know. And if you want proof, I am more than happy to pick up one of those mail-in DNA tests. We’ll have results in less than two weeks.”

“You have all the bases covered,” he said.

“I have to. Someone has to be responsible here, and right now, that’s me.” Peyton started to get to her feet, suddenly anxious to be out of there, to go back to Maddy and hug her niece. “Once the DNA test proves you are Maddy’s father, I expect you to support her financially, if nothing else.”