by Amy Knupp
“I take it you don’t get along well with him.” Maybe they had something in common after all.
“I’m his greatest disappointment.” He said it matter-of-factly, as if he’d accepted it years ago.
Andie frowned as she looked Clay over. What the hell about this man could be disappointing? “You have a police record or something?” she asked, grinning.
“Only as a juvie.”
Andie tilted her head in surprise.
“Minor stuff. But in the small town where I grew up, everyone found out. My dad was convinced I was out to ruin his career as a Texas senator.”
“Were you?”
“I didn’t care one way or the other about it. I was a selfish kid, just out to entertain myself.”
“That sounds halfway normal to me.”
Clay leaned forward, running his hands through his short hair. “I said I wasn’t going to talk about my dad,” he said tersely. “Subject closed.”
“Will Payton be asleep yet?”
“I wish. She’s a night owl, no matter what I try. Why?”
Andie stood. “You shouldn’t go home while you’re upset. Let’s go on a junk food run.”
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
“We can do lots of damage at a convenience store. They have all the vital food groups.”
“Let me guess. Chocolate, donuts, pizza, and beer.” He leaned his elbows on his knees.
“Something like that. You in?” She knew firsthand how it felt to have anger unfairly taken out on you. Especially when you were a kid and didn’t understand that adults could be mad about one thing and yell at someone else who had nothing to do with it. Of course, chances were decent that Clay handled his emotions better than her dad ever had.
He stared at her as he also stood, a flicker of interest in his eyes. Heat? “You might be able to tempt me with a little sugar.” He moved closer, and the air between them changed. Became charged with a nearly tangible tension.
He stopped mere inches from her and Andie’s breath hitched.
“We probably shouldn’t kiss,” he said in a slow, husky near-whisper.
“Probably not. If we want to stick to our agreement…” She wasn’t sure how she made her voice work.
His mouth was so close she could feel his breath on her skin. He closed his eyes and took a step back. Finally he gestured for her to precede him back to the truck, and Andie tried to ignore the humming of her blood through her veins.
oOo
“Okay,” Andie said as they made their way up and down the aisles at the brightly lit convenience store. “Chocolate, check. Donuts, check. Pizza, check. Lemonade, check.”
“Got all the groups except beer,” Clay said, amused by her enthusiasm over such a simple thing. He hadn’t seen this lighthearted, easygoing side of her before. Maybe she was trying to distract him. If so, it was starting to work.
“I’ll leave that up to you. I don’t drink it,” she said as she went toward the line of freezers against the back wall. “Popsicles, on the other hand...”
“You don’t drink beer, or you don’t drink?”
“Yes.” She pulled out a box of double Popsicles and added them to the week’s worth of junk they were already lugging around.
“Huh,” he said to himself and picked up a pint of vanilla ice cream with chocolate bunnies in it that he thought Payton would like.
“What’s ‘huh’?” she asked, pausing in the aisle for him to catch up.
“You told me you throw parties, have a police record, and yet … no alcohol?”
“Stereotyping much?” She set the items on the front counter. “Oh, and I lied about the parties. In case you couldn’t tell tonight, I’m allergic to them.”
He laughed and shook his head, seeing her a little differently. Not so … stereotypically.
“Try living with my father for a day and you’ll decide you can do without alcohol too.”
“Does he have a drinking problem?” Clay asked.
“Among many others. Do we have everything we need?”
“You could use some laundry detergent,” he said, glancing down at her jeans. She had a grass stain on her knee from their fall during the relay game.
Andie inspected her jeans, grinned, and shrugged. “Are you sure you want to be seen with such a disreputable biker chick?”
He thought she was joking but he wasn’t entirely sure.
“I think my reputation is strong enough to handle a little tarnishing.”
They split the cost of everything, Andie lifted the bag, and they turned to leave.
“I’ll take that,” Clay said, reaching over to grab the bag from her. His arm brushed against her breast, and in an instant he was hyper-alert to everything about her — the way she didn’t move away from him, the berry scent of her hair, the surprise in her eyes. His pulse kicked up as if she were standing there naked in front of him.
“What a small world.”
Clay abruptly turned toward the speaker at the door.
“Got to be kidding me,” Clay mumbled so only Andie could hear.
Morris Lipp, his ex-girlfriend’s uncle and, more significantly, her shark attorney, breezed into the store.
“Nice to see you enjoying the night life, Clay.” The asshole looked every last inch of Andie over as if he were selecting a steak for his dinner.
“What are you doing on the island, Lipp?” Clay asked, striving to keep his tone indifferent.
“Enjoying a relaxing weekend.” The man’s chin went up an inch, and he grinned as he looked at Andie again. “It’s pretty late … where’s Payton?”
“That’s none of your business,” Clay said automatically.
Morris held out his hand to Andie. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Morris Lipp.”
“Pleasure,” Andie said. When she didn’t reciprocate with her name, Clay wanted to hug the hell out of her.
“Catch you later, Lipp,” he said as he ushered Andie outside.
“What was that?" Andie asked as soon as they got in the truck and closed the doors. He wanted to collapse against the headrest, but Lipp was still in there, and he refused to show any sign of weakness. “That was Payton’s mother’s lawyer.” Andie’s eyes widened and she looked down at her grungy clothes. “Shit. That’s not good.”
“Nothing about that bastard is good.”
“He won’t use this against you, will he? Or me? That we were shopping for food together?”
Clay had no doubt Lipp would dig until he found out who Andie was and then dig some more, into her past, her business, anything that would show what an irresponsible father Clay was. “You were smart not giving him your name.” It would slow him down a little, at least. Make him work.
Andie closed her eyes. “Shit. I’m sorry, Clay. This is why we’re not supposed to be together.” They’d been in public for less than ten minutes. Morris Lipp didn’t even live on the island, though Clay had run into him once before, a couple of years ago. What were the damn odds?
“Nothing we can do now but eat the crap food we bought and hope for a sugar coma.” He tried to keep his tone light.
If Lipp used her past against him in the custody case, Clay had no one but himself to blame.
Some things never changed.
oOo
Andie sat alone on the futon in her living room, shoving powdered donuts into her mouth. She’d ended up dividing the food between her and Clay and sending him on his way. She’d done enough damage for one night.
The thought that she might have harmed Clay’s custody case unnerved her. She didn’t know a lot about the situation, and what she did know was from Clay’s perspective, but she felt certain Payton’s mom was bad news and the wrong option for Payton. Such a sweet girl deserved the best … not a mom who was coked up or drunk all the time. Regardless of whatever trouble Clay had had as a teenager, he seemed like a dedicated, honorable dad now.
How many lives would be changed if all parents were like him? How diffe
rent would Andie be today if she’d had someone as decent as Clay for a father?
And because of her, because of her past, really, since she hadn’t broken any laws for some time, a child’s future could be messed up.
Andie wasn’t proud of her teen years, when she’d have done — did do — just about anything to stay away from her father. And then there was her gargantuan mistake, Trevor. She’d made bad decisions and gotten into a terrible position, one she’d felt like she couldn’t get out of. And she was still paying for it today in so many ways.
But dammit, who was that lawyer to use her mistakes as a way to ruin a kid’s life?
Andie tossed the donut box on the cushion beside her and propelled herself off the couch. She wasn’t the same person she used to be and the new post-Trevor Andie was a woman who refused to let others make her feel bad about herself. She’d had enough of that for a lifetime.
She hadn’t done a damn thing wrong tonight. She’d been trying to do something right.
She pulled the door to the tiny balcony back harder than necessary, and it slammed into the wall. Ignoring it, she went out into the steamy, quiet night. Breathed in the humid air. Closed her eyes and focused on the insect noises, the hum of the air conditioner when it came on.
That asshole lawyer had somehow made her feel like dirt in the two minutes they’d been in contact with him. Clay had too, to an extent, even though he’d tried to act like everything would be okay.
Andie could keep her distance from Clay and Payton; that was no problem. But she would not keep beating herself up for a past she couldn’t change. She wouldn’t give anyone that kind of power over her again.
Chapter Eight
“Is that our newest recruit?” Derek asked as Clay ushered Payton into the fire station two days later.
“Doesn’t quite meet the height requirements yet,” Clay said, glancing down at his daughter. She carried his San Amaro Island Fire Department hat against her chest like a teddy bear and had twisted her hair around her fingers. “My sister’s sick. Can’t watch her today. I’m hoping like hell your fiancée has the day off.”
“Macey has to open the bar, actually. Works till six or seven tonight. Her last shift until after the honeymoon.”
Clay held in some choice swear words and picked up Payton. He kissed her cheek and held out his hand for her to unwind her hair and give him a high five.
“Maybe Selena’s available,” Clay said, pulling out his cell phone and scrolling through his contacts.
“Good luck with that. She’s finishing up the last mural before the festival this weekend. Evan says she’s transformed into a ranting madwoman.”
Well, wasn’t he just screwed. Before he had time to comment out loud, Derek was on his own cell phone. Payton began to squirm and Clay let her down. She pranced along behind them as they moved toward the locker room, her pink shoes clicking down the tile floor.
“Mace,” Derek said into his phone. “Got a favor to ask.” He explained Clay’s predicament and asked if she would watch Payton until she had to go to work. She apparently answered in the affirmative, and then Derek asked. “Is Andie scheduled today?”
“No.” Clay gestured to him, trying not to let Payton know how strongly he was against it.
Derek was off the phone within seconds. “She said you need to call Andie yourself.”
“I’m not calling Andie.”
“Who are you going to call? Dial-a-nanny? Andie’s fine.”
“I hardly know her. I can’t ask her to babysit for a twenty-four-hour shift.”
“If the price is right…”
“Who’s not working today? There’s got to be someone from the department who can watch my kid.”
Derek put his hands up. “Whatever. It’s none of my business but if it was my kid, I’d trust Andie.” He went into the locker room.
Clay leaned against the wall outside the room, watching his daughter meander, completely wrapped up in the photos of fire trucks and fires on the walls.
“Payton, you like Miss Andie, don’t you?” he asked, looking for any kind of hesitation from her, which would signal a big no-go to him.
“Yeah! Miss Andie is nice. I want to see the Turtle Lady with her.”
He had no idea what the Turtle Lady was, but there wasn’t anything he could remotely interpret as doubt on his daughter’s part. And, hell, he’d seen how good Andie was with Payton. That wasn’t in question.
What was in question was whether any harm would be done by letting Andie get close to his daughter. What if Lipp sent someone sniffing around?
Of course, if Morris Lipp was going to bring up Andie’s questionable past during the hearing, he likely already had all the ammo he needed.
Dammit.
They didn’t need to make it easy for him, though, by being seen together regularly, by putting themselves in the position where a witness might testify they were “close.” However, today, he didn’t have many other options.
Clay poked his head into the locker room and motioned to Derek. “What’s her number?”
oOo
“Payton, you’re playing with the big girls now,” Macey said, watching the child in her rearview mirror. “You up for a girls-only brunch?”
Andie turned sideways in Macey’s passenger seat. Payton was peering back at the fire station uncertainly, as if they were ripping her away from her daddy forever. She’d broken into tears when they left, but that hadn’t lasted long. “It’s okay, sweetie.” She reached back to pat Payton’s leg.
“What’s brunch?” Payton asked, sniffling once.
“It’s the br from breakfast and the unch from lunch. Brunch. The meal you eat in between breakfast and lunch,” Macey explained.
“Is there milkshakes?”
Andie met Macey’s gaze and they held in a laugh. “You like milkshakes?” she asked.
“Yes. I like strawberry and chocolate and banilla and marshmallow.”
“We could probably make milkshakes part of the deal,” Macey said. “Too bad Selena’s not with us. Ice cream is about fifty percent of her diet.”
“Is my daddy going to eat brunch too?”
“He has to be a firefighter today, honey,” Macey said. “Normally Aunt Bridget would come to your house to take care of you, but she’s sick. The good news is that you’ve got the two coolest girls ever to entertain you.”
She could tell Payton still wasn’t convinced, and her heart went out to her. “Later on, after Miss Macey goes to work, we can try to do your hair like a ballerina,” Andie said.
“Can we play beauty salon?”
“Sure.” Andie had never in her life played beauty salon, and spent as little time and money in them as she could, but if it helped stop those sad gazes back toward the station, she’d do her best.
Macey snickered and pursed her lips together. “Do you even have the supplies?”
“I’m hoping she does,” Andie said quietly, uneasy about the prospect of entertaining this child for an entire day. She’d stayed with Jonas’s daughter before for an hour or two at a time but had never pulled a three-meal shift.
“After brunch, we can stop by my place and pick up some girly hair essentials.” Macey pulled into the parking lot of a bagel shop.
“Is this the place where they have milkshakes?” Payton asked from the backseat.
“Yes, ma’am, they do.” Macey turned off the car. “They even have chocolate chip. Let’s go.”
The three of them got out, and Payton ran along the sidewalk to the door.
“I’m dying to know,” Macey said as they caught up.
Andie looked at her questioningly and held the door open.
“How in the world did Clay get you to agree to babysit for twenty-four hours?”
“What do you mean?” Andie asked innocently, turning her attention to the menu board behind the counter. Payton wandered a few feet away, checking out the pastries behind the glass counter.
Macey chuckled. “While you do have a go
od heart buried deep in there somewhere, twenty-four hours is a long time for someone you’ve just met. What’d he bribe you with?”
“Nothing much,” Andie said. “Just a loaner Harley while mine’s in the shop.”
oOo
Andie would never admit it to Clay, but she’d definitely gotten the better end of the deal. Not only did she have transportation while her bike was in the hospital — or she would have as soon as Clay took her back to Bud’s for one of the bikes he rented out — but hanging out with Payton turned out to be fun.
The girl was a fan of all things girly — ballerinas, hair, butterflies, rainbows, princesses. Things that had escaped Andie completely during her childhood, as she’d been more apt to make a secret hideaway in an evergreen tree or an obstacle course in the woods behind her house.
They’d borrowed Macey’s curling iron, and Andie had turned Payton’s long waves into curls tied back in pink and purple ribbons. Cute, but definite overkill. Payton adored it. She’d been spinning and checking the mirror ever since. Life should be so simple, truly.
They’d made it through the morning just fine, even after Macey left them to open the bar. Andie had cooked mac and cheese for lunch. They’d spent the afternoon in the front yard, covering the driveway with sidewalk chalk art, reading the butterfly book — dozens of times — coloring a princess coloring book, and now they were inspecting wildflowers, picking them from the flower bed to study or put in their hair.
“This one’s for you,” Payton said, yanking a bright pink bloom from its stem and handing it to Andie. “It goes in your hair.”
Andie sat on a boulder in the garden while the girl secured the stem behind Andie’s ear with her clumsy little fingers.
“There,” Payton said with a nod and a shake of the flowing, unevenly hemmed princess skirt she’d insisted on wearing over her pink leotard. “You’re pretty now.”