by Fiona West
“Hey. Hey, Kendall. I’m your dad.” At the sound of his words, the baby calmed, snuggling into his chest, and his heart went supernova with joy. “She knows my voice!” He sat back in the chair, relishing the feeling . . . but it was ruined by the cold. And if he was cold, Kendall probably was, too. He pulled his shirt over her protectively, but paused when he noticed a mark on her back.
“What’s that? Winnie, what is that?”
She squinted from the operating table. “Looks like a birthmark.”
“Oh, right.” Of course it was. Had he forgotten even the most basic medical knowledge since becoming a father? He was relieved no one else had heard him. “What a beautiful girl you are,” he cooed to her, “and someday, you can grow up and be whatever kind of doctor you want to be.”
“Daniel . . .” Winnie’s tone held a warning, which he ignored.
“There are so many specialities to choose from,” he went on. “Your grandpa and I are both family doctors, like your great-grandpa was. But don’t let that sway you. Uncle Kyle’s in the emergency room. Your uncle Philip is a physical therapist. Those are good options, too.”
Then Daniel felt something warm and wet running down his abs, and he laughed. “Seriously, kid? I thought we were having a moment!”
Winnie laughed, too. “You were having a moment. Moments are messy sometimes. But I guess we know how she feels about having her career dictated.”
“She clearly has your backbone.” He grinned, rubbing Kendall’s back gently.
“And your determination,” Winnie added. He blushed at that; Winnie was still in awe of how he dealt with his dyslexia. Much more than he thought he deserved.
“She’s got my mom’s nose, don’t you think?” He’d never felt more like a giant, just comparing the size of his hand to her whole body. He was definitely going to need a newborn photo shoot to document this incredible child. He used to think all babies looked the same, but this baby was clearly his, and his heart sang just to look at her.
“I don’t know,” Winnie said, cocking her head. “I see a lot of you in her, too. I bet she has your eyes.”
“I hope she’s got yours.” He shifted to look into his baby’s eyes, trying to see her better, even knowing that she couldn’t focus on his face yet. Then a thought made him sober. “What if she’s dyslexic?”
“Then you’ll be able to teach her all about it,” she said, yawning. “It didn’t stop your dreams. It won’t stop hers, either. She’s got a huge cheering squad who’ll help her every step of the way. And speaking of help,” Winnie said softly, reaching out to put a hand on his leg, “she’s probably ready to try nursing.”
“In a minute,” he said, still staring at Kendall as she gave a yawn that seemed impossibly large for such a small person. “We’re tired, Mama. It’s been a big day.” He glanced at Winnie, grinning. “That’s your mom, Kendall. She’s excited to meet you, too, she’s just busy right now. She’s really great. You’re gonna love her. I sure do.”
“And I love you,” Winnie replied, crooking a finger for him to come closer. And as he gently pressed his lips to hers, surrounded by his two favorite people, Daniel could feel nothing but complete contentment . . . damp pants and all.
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Well, it makes my whole week. Believe me. It’s true.
There’s a reason why I’m a novelist and not a poet, but in all seriousness, I would be so appreciative if you could spread the word about this series! It’s a huge help to my business. Thanks!
Don’t miss a moment of Timber Falls fun!
Could Be Something Good (Daniel and Winnie)
Must be a Mistake (Kyle and Ainsley—read on for a preview!)
Right Back Where We Started (Martina and Crash)
Pre-order the next two books in the series now!
Coming Winter 2020...
More Than We Bargained For (Starla and Sawyer)
Never Say Never (Lizzie and Chase)
Maybe It’s Just Me (Maggie and R.J.)
Also by Fiona West
The Borderline Chronicles (sweet fantasy romance)
The Ex-Princess: a chronically-ill princess who fled from her responsibilities is forced to face the fiancé she abandoned and journey across a magically-unpredictable continent. Can she keep the life she’s given up everything to build?
The Un-Queen: a king caught between love and legality...can Abbie and Edward’s relationship survive engagement and the opposition who wants to tear them apart again?
The Jinxed Journalist: a single mother gets her dream job as a journalist, only to find herself caught in royal scandal, opposing her son’s new mentor. When forced to choose between love and her career, can she still come out a winner?
The Semi-Royal: a doctor takes an expedition with her brother’s best friend that has life-changing results. Can she resist the underlying attraction that’s been there for years?
The Almost-Widow: a security professional finds herself paired with a shy, sensory-sensitive man on the night watch. Can their friendship blossom into something more?
Must Be a Mistake, coming June 19th, 2020!
Read on for a sneak peek at Chapters One and Two!
CHAPTER ONE
AINSLEY SIGHED AS HER first graders lined up for library; Cooper Durand was still in the Naughty Chair. She didn't refer to it that way in front of her students, of course . . . she called it the Think It Over Chair. A place for them to take a deep breath, regain their self-control in a safe area . . . but that didn't changes its stripes: it was a Naughty Chair. And Cooper certainly belonged there: she'd caught him peeing on a tree at recess instead of getting the pass to go inside. She'd happened to see him out her window today as she was eating lunch alone in her room, and she nearly choked on her chicken salad sandwich. She'd asked Mrs. Talbot, the classified lady who had recess duty to watch out for him, but recess was a pretty hectic place as it was, and Mrs. Talbot's eyesight wasn't what it used to be. This was only the instance she knew about, but there could be more. A lot more. They got a morning and afternoon recess . . . she sighed again. Ainsley reached out a hand toward him.
"Cooper, come lead the line with me, please." The boy bounded up and trotted over to the head of the line. She held his hand as the class meandered down the hall, looking less like a line and more like a dodecahedron. "What did you do that you shouldn't have done?"
"Pee on the tree when you were looking."
"So close," she said, schooling her face into a stern but kind look. "Try again."
"Pee on the tree."
"Better. And what did you not do that you should've done?"
"Get the pass from Mrs. Talbot." He looked up at her, genuinely frustrated. "But Kacie and Fran always get it first and they take too long! Recess is over by the time they come back."
"Well, they're not supposed to go together anyway, so I'll talk to Mrs. Talbot, okay?" She squeezed his hand, and he gave her a semi-toothless grin.
"Thanks, Miss Buchanan." He paused. "Don't worry, I peed on a different one every day, so one wouldn't grow taller. Uncle Kyle says urine is a good fertilizer."
"Yes, well . . . that's a relief. Also, maybe don't listen to everything Uncle Kyle says."
"Why not?" He whispered, because they'd reached the closed library doors.
"Because little boys don't need to know the agricultural applications for urine," she whispered back, turning to smile at the librarian, C.J. "See you later, Buchanan's Bunch." She had sixty-two ten squares calling her that weren’t going to cut out and laminate themselves. She'd have a talk with Uncle Kyle later . . . if she could get him to talk to her at all. Whatever. Lots of other fish in the sea. Less grunty, broody fish. Well, some other f
ish in the sea. More like a lake, really. And at that moment, it was feeling downright puddle-ish. She’d been on four dates with Todd Glazer...all of which were boring. When he called for a fifth, she let him down gently.
Ainsley blitzed through the afternoon math lesson and ended up with time to spare—everything this time of year was just a review of kindergarten—so they read Lily's Big Day by Kevin Henkes again. Her students never got tired of hearing a story about a child (well, a mouse child) who wanted desperately to be her teacher’s flower girl, who wanted to be special to the people she loved. It was so delightfully relatable to them.
Posey raised her hand. “Are you going to get married, Ms. Buchanan?”
“Yes, I think so. Someday.” She smiled at the kids, who were beaming at her. “Do you think I’d pick one of you to be my flower person?”
“No,” the kids chorused, giggling. Oh good; they actually listened to the story. When she walked her gaggle of skipping, yawning, babbling students out to the buses, Kyle Durand was there to pick up Cooper, who broke ranks to run to him. Kyle Freaking Durand, with his tousled brown hair, so dark it was almost black. His stormy brown eyes, the physique that showcased the benefits of daily exercise. He greeted his nephew too quietly to be heard over the melee of students. The boy nodded, then shook his head, apparently reconsidering his first answer to whatever question he’d asked. Kyle looked up and caught her gaze. "He had a rough day?"
There was a momentary stand-off: he stared at her, as if he was waiting for her to come to him or shout her answer across the hoards still pairing student with caregiver or mode of transportation. She crossed her arms and stared right back. With half a grin, he sauntered over to her slowly as if she didn't have another ten kids waiting for her to put them on the bus. What the heck is so funny?
"In the future, I'd appreciate it if you encouraged Cooper to keep his tree-watering activities confined to your own yard."
His eyes snapped to the boy in horror. "You didn't."
"I had a good reason!" Cooper shouted.
Dr. Durand ran a hand down his face. "It won't happen again; sorry."
"Well, I'm satisfied with the time he's served in the Think It Over Chair, but I wanted to make someone at home aware of the . . . issue."
“Sure, yes. I will pass the message on to Philip. Sorry about that; I just figured it's the kind of thing the boy should know, in case of a zombie apocalypse."
Ainsley smiled in spite of herself. "A what?"
"Zombie apocalypse," Kyle said, his brown eyes somber despite his ridiculous statement. How he kept a straight face, she’d never know. "We've gotta prepare the kids for what's coming. As an educator, you play a key role, I’m surprised you don’t know all about it."
"Thank you for your time, Dr. Durand," Ainsley said, still smiling, walking backward, leading the line toward the rest of the buses. "See you Monday."
"Only if the zombies don't attack first," he called back, and several teachers around them stopped to stare. Ainsley didn't let herself laugh until she turned to put Damon, Denver and Heaven on Bus #6.
CHAPTER TWO
KYLE SLAMMED HIS TRUCK door. What had gotten into him? Her shirt, that's what. She was wearing that blouse he liked, the dark blue see-thru one with the rainbow trout on it. How she managed to make rainbow trout look cute and hot at the same time, he hadn't been able to figure out. And he had spent considerable time thinking about it. . . while doing his laundry, at family dinners, working at the hospital. . . he felt a bit bad about that last one. But when he wasn't working, he didn't feel bad thinking about Ainsley. He was a good multi-tasker. He'd been doing it for years anyway. If he hadn't gone to that dumb wedding, he wouldn't have this problem.
"Are we going home or what?" Cooper called from the back seat. Kyle slid on his sunglasses and muttered under his breath about brothers and their unreasonable expectations. He'd agreed to pick up his nephew right after Philip had his second baby, and now, it was somehow expected he’d do it every day. If he didn't get to see Ainsley, he'd have pawned Coop off on his mom weeks ago.
"Of course we are."
"Then why are we just sitting here? I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry. It's amazing your dad has any money at all..."
"I'm a growing boy. That’s what Mom says.” That did sound like Claire. Besides, the kid wasn't overweight. No one could figure out where he put it all; his belly was like a black hole.
Kyle started the truck and turned out onto the main road. The buses had already left. Ainsley had gone back inside. He'd realized something, engaged in a silent battle of wills over something as simple as a short conference. She was never going to come to him. Though he'd never said it out loud, that's what he'd been waiting for, all this time. Waiting for her to see him, waiting for her to figure out why he tagged along with his brother as often as possible. But it wasn't going to happen. . . so what were his other options? During that short walk across the concrete pick up area, he'd weighed them: 1. Give up. If his infatuation with her had lasted this long, he didn't think it would probably die just because he wanted it to, just because he was scared. It was like a raccoon in a koi pond; it just kept coming back. He suspected that his autism was playing a role in his fascination with her, but he couldn’t be sure. 2. Keep waiting. That hadn't worked so far. 3. Go after her. It wasn't like he hadn't thought of it. He had, of course he had. But it wasn’t his style; he’d never needed to before. In high school and in college, he’d had plenty of women who’d made their interest clear, most of them with dollar signs over their eyes like cartoon characters.
But that wasn’t Ainsley; she’d never been part of his circle of friends. Four years younger than him, they hadn’t even been in high school together. And if she had liked him, she had too much self-respect to be overt about her feelings. So today, he'd flirted with her. At least he thought he had. She'd smiled. That was a good start. Phase One: Win Ainsley’s Attention. As mad as he was at himself for getting into this without a solid plan, at least he hadn't completely screwed up.
Now I just need a Phase Two...
“SO, COOP,” PHILIP STARTED, passing the mashed potatoes down the table to Kyle, “how was your day?” Claire had expected Kyle to stay as usual; dinner was his payment for picking up Cooper. Since he started his shifts at 7 PM, picking him up at 3:30 wasn’t bad, and he did get a free meal out of it.
“Miss Buchanan’s getting married.”
Kyle stopped chewing his steak. “What did you say?”
“That’s wonderful,” Claire cooed, tossing her straight red hair. “Who’s she marrying?”
Cooper shrugged, poking at the sautéed green beans on his plate.
Wonderful? thought Kyle. That’s the worst news I’ve ever heard. Also, is that little sneak trying to divert attention from Tree-Peeing Gate?
“She didn’t say?” Claire probed.
Cooper shook his head, and Kyle turned to his sister-in-law.
“You’re the queen of Timber Falls gossip, why haven’t I heard about this?”
“I hadn’t heard a thing, but most of my gossip channels are hospital-related.”
“Why the sudden interest?” His brother Philip smirked. “Is the most eligible bachelor in Timber Falls ready to settle down?” Kyle flipped him off by rubbing his eye with his middle finger and Philip returned the gesture.
“Quit it,” Claire warned, getting up to retrieve her infant daughter from her bedroom down the hall. “He’s six, not an idiot.”
“Can I go play the tablet?” Cooper asked, and Philip nodded.
“Still haven’t heard an answer,” he added, directing a pointed look at Kyle, who’d given up eating all together.
“It’s not sudden, and you know it.”
“Seems like you missed your chance, bud.”
Kyle worried his lower lip between his fingers. “You think?”
Philip shrugged. “That’s what the six-year-old scuttlebutt would indicate.”
“Who could she even
be dating? Wouldn’t we have heard something about it before now? Daniel hasn’t said anything, he keeps tabs on her.” Kyle got to his feet. Pacing would work, pacing would help. He could think better if he was moving. Better to panic moving than to panic sitting still.
“Friendship isn’t exactly the same as keeping tabs, but okay.” His brother pointed with his fork. “Internet. Could’ve met him on the internet, I hear that’s the thing now.”
“Okay, Grandpa.”
Philip threw his arms out. “I’m practically a millennial!”
“No, you’re not.” He paused. “You don’t think she’s back with Dean, do you?”
“Dean moved to Portland.”
“Dean belongs in Portland.”
“Yes, Dean does belong in Portland. Weirdo.”
“Remember when he dyed his hair black?”
“Weirdo.”
“Who’s a weirdo?” asked Claire, flopping back down at the table with Hannah in her arms.
“Dean Hoppsteader.”
“Didn’t he move to Portland?” Claire picked up her fork to resume eating, but Hannah couldn’t stay latched. Her high-pitched cries tugged at Kyle’s heartstrings, but he tried not to let it show. Infant cries were one of the few things that made him teary if he was already on edge.
He coughed, pivoting to give Claire some privacy as she tried to adjust her hold on Hannah. “We have lactation consultants at the hospital, you know.”
Claire snorted. “I don’t need a lactation consultant.”
“I’m just saying. If you did, we have them.”