Darcy and the Single Dad

by Stacy Connelly

  He stepped back suddenly, leaving her holding nothing but the cup of tea.

  It was only her vulnerability after talking about her mother that made his withdrawal feel like a rejection. It wasn’t like he knew what she’d been thinking.

  Please don’t let him know what I was thinking....

  “So your mother wanted to move back,” Nick was saying as Darcy refocused on the words instead of simply following the movement of his lips.

  She sighed, unsure why he was so hung up on that point. “This isn’t only about my mother’s last wish. It’s about a new start for me. A chance for me to own the kind of store where I like to shop.” She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised by Nick’s lack of interest. He wasn’t exactly the demographic she had in mind for her boutique. “You know your sister’s looking forward to my grand opening. I think Sophia’s almost as excited as I am. And your daughter will love it. Girls always have a blast playing dress-up and having little girl makeovers—”

  Warming to her subject, it took Darcy a minute to realize however slightly Nick had relaxed in the last few seconds, that moment was now gone. His expression was closed off, his posture once again rigid. He cut her off saying, “I should go check on the dog.”

  “I thought you said she was fine.”

  “She is.”

  Staring at the straight, unbending line of Nick’s backbone as he walked away, Darcy couldn’t help wondering, if the dog was okay, then what on earth was wrong with Nick Pirelli?

  Chapter Three

  Darcy bringing up his daughter and the dog’s quick delivery of four tiny puppies could not have happened at a better time, Nick determined later as he watched the new pups, their eyes and ears still closed, their mouths wide open. The mama dog nuzzled them each in turn, guiding them toward their first meal.

  “You’re doing great, girl,” he reassured her, and Nick could have sworn the dog responded with a proud smile.

  He didn’t know if Darcy truly was squeamish, but she had stayed away from the laundry room during the birthing process, giving Nick time to clean up and toss some of the old rags into the trash out back. She hadn’t been in the kitchen as he’d passed through, and he hadn’t gone looking for her.

  “It’s a big responsibility, you know,” he murmured to the dog who’d either grown accustomed to his touch or had better things to worry about than the human petting her head. “Having a child is the most amazing experience and the most terrifying.”

  But he was determined to do right by Maddie. Which did not mean little girl makeovers. He didn’t want Maddie growing up any faster than she already was, and no way was he ready for blush and mascara and highlights and God knows what else Darcy had in mind.

  He’d been fighting with Carol for years about Maddie not being old enough to have her ears pierced. Even his mother and sister had taken his ex’s side on that one.

  “I was five when I had my ears pierced,” Sophia had argued.

  And she’d been eighteen when she left home.

  Nick cringed at his line of thinking. Okay, not even he could make a direct correlation between ear piercing and taking off for parts unknown without admitting he sounded nuts, but still, the idea reinforced his plan to find a solid, wholesome influence for Maddie’s life. Someone who could see his side of things and understand that his daughter belonged with him in Clearville.

  Darcy was not that woman. Her decision to move to her mother’s hometown, to make her mother’s dream come true was admirable and touching...and misguided. But she’d have to learn that the hard way. Just as he had when he finally admitted getting married and raising a family in Clearville might have been his dream, but it hadn’t been Carol’s. Her dreams were bigger than small-town living, and Nick was sure Darcy’s were, as well. Once reality set in, she’d figure that out.

  Nick caught the scent of something fruity drifting over his shoulder. Was it one of her moisturizers or mud-mask thingies that made Darcy smell like a tropical, sun-kissed beach? If Darcy knew what she was talking about, women loved that kind of stuff. Somehow, though, he didn’t think the explanation was that simple. He’d never had the desire to seek out the scent on any other woman’s skin, to see if she tasted as good as she smelled....

  He knew better than to turn around, feeling her presence there even before he heard her soft gasp.

  “Oh, my— They’re so tiny. Are they—?”

  “They’re fine. Perfectly healthy and good sized. Two boys and two girls.” The boys took after mom with her blue merle coloring, but the girls must take after dear old dad with their smooth black coats. It was too soon to tell what the mix was, but Nick thought lab might be a good guess.

  “Four,” she breathed, and even though it wasn’t possible, Nick swore he could feel her sigh drift like a caress over the exposed skin at the back of his neck. Chills raced down his spine, but he blamed the recent trip he’d made out into the storm. He’d ducked the rain as best he could, but clearly the collar of his shirt had gotten damp. It was the only reason why goose bumps were rising along every inch of skin.

  “Better than eight,” he answered, his tone more wry than he’d have liked.

  “I can’t even imagine. So what do you think?”

  He tried keeping his gaze on the small family on the blanket in front of him, but he couldn’t resist turning in Darcy’s direction. He saw immediately the reason why she’d left the kitchen earlier. She’d changed out of the green shirt and jeans she’d worn into a pink softer-than-soft-looking jogging suit with a zippered jacket and drawstring bottoms. The potential ease of removal for both items was enough to run his mouth dry. To make matters worse, instead of being confined in a ponytail that kept the long strands away from her face, her hair now tumbled in voluptuous waves over her shoulders.

  “What do I think about what?”

  “What do you think we should name them?”

  “I think that’s up to you.”

  “But you delivered them. You were here when she needed you.”

  Her voice was soft as she gazed at him, and he had a hard time remembering she was talking about the dog. The warmth and gratitude in her gaze made Nick feel like puffing up his chest with pride. He didn’t think he’d moved from his crouched position, but he would have sworn she was suddenly closer. Close enough for him to see her eyelashes were surprisingly, and naturally, darker than her hair. Close enough to see the faintest spray of freckles across her nose. Close enough for him to watch every movement of her tongue sliding across her pale pink lips.

  The low rumble of thunder sounded from outside, and Nick jerked his attention away from Darcy’s mouth and back to the request she’d made. “Stormy,” he blurted out. “For one of the girls.”

  “Oh, how fitting. You said the girls were the little black ones?” At Nick’s nod, Darcy said, “Then how about Cloud for the one of the gray boys?”

  He suggested Rain for the other girl. “Which leaves one boy left.”

  Darcy’s smile was full of mischievous laughter simply waiting to be unleashed, and Nick paused with an almost helpless feeling of anticipation to hear whatever she’d come up with.

  “Bo,” she announced suddenly.

  He shook his head as if the word hadn’t quite penetrated his brain. “Stormy, Rain, Cloud and...Bo?”

  This time he had no doubt Darcy had leaned closer as she lowered her voice to share a secret. “It’s short for Rainbow, but don’t tell the other kids. They might make fun of him.”

  Rainbow. It was as silly and ridiculous as Nick had feared, still he couldn’t help but give into laughter. Darcy’s joined his, the masculine and feminine sound combining until, at once, all other sounds faded away. So, too, did the lighthearted energy in the tiny room, replaced by a growing awareness of how close they were, how isolated, with only the dogs inside and the lingering storm out.

  “I should go.” The statement, if not the words, were firm and decisive and utterly meaningless as Nick still didn’t move.

  D
arcy swallowed. “You don’t have to. It’s still raining outside. I could fix some coffee.”

  But it wasn’t coffee he was craving. Her scent called to him again, and this time Nick thought he recognized the summery mix of coconut and pineapple. He wondered if her skin would taste like piña colada if he kissed her.

  He heard the faint catch in her breathing and the quicker rhythm that followed. He was less than a sigh away from claiming her lips with his own when the overhead bulb flickered. The light wasn’t out for more than a split second, but when it came back on, the glare was like a flash of clarity illuminating the huge mistake he was about to make.

  He didn’t know if it was the storm, faulty wiring or fate stepping in to save him, but he jerked abruptly to his feet. The unexpected movement almost knocked Darcy back on her heels. He bent halfway—the gentleman his mother had taught him to be insisting he give her a hand, battling the survivor Carol had forced him to be warning him to stay far, far away. In the end he did nothing as Darcy pushed herself to her feet.

  “I have to— This can’t—” His mind formed the words, but his tongue tripped over them in his haste to say the exact opposite of what his body was feeling. “Look, I’m not interested in a fling or an affair or—”

  Darcy’s eyes widened, at first in shock, then in a growing realization and finally anger. “I offered you a cup of coffee, Dr. Pirelli, not a roll in the hay. You might be right and I don’t know much about small towns, but where I come from coffee means coffee. If I was offering you sex, I would have said sex.” The chill in her voice and fire in her eyes told him sex was nowhere near in the offering. “You can let yourself out when you’re done here.”

  She brushed by him on her way through the kitchen and moments later, he heard a door slam somewhere from the back of the house. Nick exhaled a humiliated sigh of regret. Yes, he was definitely done here.

  * * *

  Nick stood in the middle of Darcy’s kitchen feeling like he’d dodged a bullet, but guilty for winding up unscathed all the same. He was positive—almost positive—he hadn’t imagined the heat and invitation in Darcy’s gaze. She’d wanted him to kiss her, hadn’t she? Hell, he’d been out of the game so long, he wasn’t sure he still could read the signs. And damned if he didn’t know if maybe all he saw was his own desire reflected in her eyes. But no matter what he saw or thought he saw, that didn’t give him the right to hurt her with his clumsy rejection.

  Yet what else could he have said? That she was a beautiful, sexy woman and he’d sleep with her in a heartbeat if he wasn’t already looking for an entirely different kind of woman for his wife? A different kind of mother for Maddie? Somehow he didn’t think that would have scored any points in her book either.

  He thought briefly about apologizing, in a note left behind for her to find—because no way was he searching her out in her bedroom where he assumed she’d taken refuge—only to decide against it.

  It was probably better to leave things as they were. If he’d ticked her off as much as he thought he had, then he wouldn’t have to worry about ending up on her radar again—except maybe for her to shoot some dirty looks in his direction on any rare occasion when their paths might cross.

  He checked on the mama dog and her puppies one more time before he packed up his bag and left out the back door, the same way he’d come in. The slash of wind and rain pelting him the moment he stepped outside the warmth and comfort of Darcy’s house felt like punishment, but the sudden chill was just what he needed. He didn’t bother trying to outrun the storm on his way to his truck or duck for cover beneath the arms of the large tree in her front yard. Putting his head down, he methodically trudged along the gravel driveway.

  A summer storm might not be what the term “cold shower” usually meant, but it would do.

  The baseball game was likely over, but he couldn’t have used a beer more. After fishing his keys from his front pocket, Nick turned the ignition and—nothing. Not a click. Not a flicker of light from the dash. Nothing.

  Rain pounded on the roof of his SUV in a constant, unrelenting pattern as he reached for his phone. Cell coverage was always spotty at best thanks to the surrounding mountains. Add in the storm, and Nick shouldn’t have been surprised when he got no reception. Dropping his wet head back on the padded headrest, he seriously debated sitting out the storm and the night in his truck. But what if Maddie needed him? His cell phone was as useless as his dead battery, and he needed to be at home in case she called.

  It didn’t happen so often anymore, but there’d been a time when Maddie brought back more than souvenirs and gifts from her trips to see her mother. Her first few nights back home, she used to wake up crying, her nightmares filled with terrors of being lost in the big city, trapped in falling elevators or stuck on escalators that carried her far, far away.

  As much as he’d hated to see his daughter frightened, a small—very small—part of him had taken comfort in her needing her dad and the security and familiarity of small-town Clearville.

  He didn’t want to be out of contact from Maddie, not even for one night. Not even if it meant facing Darcy Dawson. He was soaked to the skin by the time he reached the front porch and knocked on the door.

  “My battery’s dead,” he announced before she had the chance to launch into him for his nerve at showing his face on her doorstep. “I’ve got cables if I could just use your car for a—” He nearly swallowed his tongue to keep from using the word jump.

  “Sorry,” she said, arms crossed over her chest, “but you can’t.”

  Nick snapped his jaw shut. Okay, so he’d known she might slam the door in his face. Half expected it, but he also thought once she heard what he needed, she’d oblige—just to get him and his vehicle off her property if for no other reason. “Look, I was a jerk.”

  “You were.”

  “A total jerk.”

  “Right.”

  His frustration mounting when Darcy refused to bend an inch, he snapped, “I’m trying to apologize here.”

  “Really?” Her elegant eyebrows shot upward. “Because—again where I come from—apologies usually start with the words ‘I’m sorry’ and end with ‘Can you ever forgive me?’”

  Clenching his jaw, Nick ground out the words from between gritted teeth. “I’m sorry, Darcy. Can you ever forgive me?”

  He sounded about as sorry as when he was a kid and his father insisted any confrontations with his brothers ended in a handshake, but it was the best he could do. And he really didn’t expect it to work.

  Still Darcy did lower her arms and her posture loosened ever-so-slightly. “I’ll think about it.”

  “So does that mean I can use your car?”

  “No.” She held up a hand before his head actually exploded. “Because my car isn’t here. My car hasn’t been here for days, ever since I left it at the mechanic’s in town. So good luck getting a new battery.”

  Nick swore beneath his breath, but put the problem with his battery on the back burner for a second to address what Darcy had said about the garage in town. First, there was only one car shop in town. And second, it was owned by his youngest brother. Nick might have gotten on Sam’s case over the years about his desire to live his life like Peter Pan, but his Lost Boy brother was a pure genius when it came to anything mechanical.

  “Your car’s been in the shop for days? Was there a part that needed to be ordered?” He couldn’t imagine a problem Sam wouldn’t be able to fix blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back.

  “The mechanic told me what was wrong and what it would cost to fix it but—” Darcy shrugged as if that was the last she’d heard.

  None of which sounded like Sam. His brother always followed through with a client if a job was going to take longer than anticipated. Most of the time, he beat any time frame he gave, especially since he’d recently hired on some help.

  “But I shouldn’t really complain. The mechanic has been sweet enough to pick me up when I’ve needed to go into town.”

>   “He’s been giving you rides?”

  That sounded more like Sam. With his teasing smile and lighthearted charm, his youngest brother had always had a way with women. All women. He never seemed to single out one in particular, and for him to put his reputation as a mechanic on the line for the pleasure of driving Miss Darcy—

  Jealousy sizzled through Nick, eating away at logic and reason like acid.

  “You’re welcome to come in and use my phone. And by ‘use my phone,’ I mean use my phone. That’s not any kind of big-city sexual innuendo.”

  The slap of humiliation heated his cheeks, but the only thing worse was knowing he deserved every moment Darcy spent raking him over the coals. “I’d appreciate it.”

  The words were too stiff, too formal, but he didn’t know how else to pry his foot from his mouth other than to watch his every word. The same way he had back when his Nana Pirelli was still alive and he wasn’t too big or too old for her to slap upside the head. But despite Darcy’s insistence that her offer had nothing to do with sex, his mind went there anyway as he followed the seductive sway of her hips as she led the way into the house.

  It was his first glimpse at the front of the house. Like the laundry area, the living room showed signs that Darcy had yet to unpack. The built-in bookcases flanking either side of the brick-faced fireplace were conspicuously empty. So, too, was the wall above the hearth, a large expanse crying out for a family portrait. Instead, six splotches of paint marred the space as if she was having a hard time deciding on a single color.

  He had the feeling the furniture, mismatched floral couches huddled around an old-fashioned steamer trunk, had come with the house. He wondered why Darcy would even bother redecorating. The paint would likely have yet to dry by the time she grew tired of small-town living and headed back to the city.