Daddy Says, I Do!

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Daddy Says, I Do! Page 7

by Stacy Connelly


  Forcing a smile, she said, “It’s nice to meet you both.”

  “You, too. I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

  Kara sensed Sam’s exasperation as his sister pulled out a free chair and made herself comfortable, but he merely passed his brother-in-law a wry look and a menu before sitting back down. “Why don’t you join us, Sophia?”

  “We will, Sam,” she shot back tartly.

  A small smile tugged at Kara’s lips. The antagonism and affection between the siblings reminded her of her relationship with Marti. Oh, how she missed that...missed her sister! But the warmth of family and fun kept the cold feeling of sorrow at bay.

  See? Marti’s voice seemed to whisper. See why I brought you here?

  The conversation moved on to the best the restaurant had to offer and before long, the group had decided on their meals—burgers for the men and salads for the women.

  “So, how did you two meet?” Sophia asked once the waitress had taken their orders.

  “I was stuck on the side of the road with a flat tire and no cell service, and Sam rescued me.” She’d meant the comment to come out as a light tease, mocking the way he seemed to think he could sweep her off her feet—at that first meeting and, well, every time their paths had crossed since. Somehow, though, the words didn’t come out that way, sounding far more romantic and, heaven help her, love struck than she intended.

  Sam’s eyes darkened as he met her gaze, and Kara had the feeling that if Sophia and Jake weren’t sitting at the table, he would have kissed her again.

  “That’s my brother,” Sophia said with a fond smile. “He has always had a thing for rescuing damsels in distress.”

  Easing back in her chair a little under Sam’s knowing gaze—as if a few inches would be a safe enough distance to void the attraction between them—Kara argued, “I wouldn’t say I was in distress.”

  “Are you kidding?” Picking up where she’d left off and embellishing greatly, he said, “There you were, trapped on the edge of wilderness, miles from civilization, monsters closing in on every side...”

  “Monsters?” Jake echoed. “Exactly where did you break down?”

  “Just outside of town and the monsters—that was my nephew’s imagination.”

  “How old is your nephew?” Sophia asked.

  “He’s just turned four, and he has a big imagination. Monster-sized, I suppose you could say.”

  “Oh, that’s a great age, isn’t it?”

  The brunette rested her hands expectantly on her belly, and Kara knew the questions she was supposed to ask. The polite interest she was supposed to show. Sophia certainly wasn’t the first pregnant woman Kara had run into over the last twelve years. So why did the questions seem so much harder to ask?

  “When are you due?”

  “Not soon enough! But I’m not due for another four months.”

  No, please, it’s too soon! I’m not due for months...

  “Babies are wonderful,” Sophia was saying, but her voice sounded far away—on the other side of Kara’s memories. “So cute and cuddly with those chubby cheeks, you just want to squeeze them. I’m afraid I’m going to spoil this baby rotten.”

  Cute. Cuddly. Chubby cheeks.

  Yes, Kara knew that was how babies were supposed to look. How many times had she passed by the hospital nursery, staring with such longing, such envy at those cute, cuddly, healthy babies until she simply couldn’t take it anymore?

  “Kara?” Sam voice, soft and warm, cut into those hard, cold memories. “Are you okay?”

  The table and restaurant snapped back into focus and she met Sam’s concerned gaze. “I’m fine. I— Do you know what you’re having?” she asked, feeling like she was walking by the nursery all over again, torturing herself with this conversation.

  This isn’t about you, she reminded herself as she met Sophia’s once-again smiling face. Sophia and Jake are going to have that happy, healthy baby, and it has nothing to do with you.

  “We asked the doctor not to tell, but both Jake and I believe it’s going to be a little boy.”

  “Here’s hoping,” Sam said, lifting a glass toward Jake.

  “What’s wrong with girls?” Sophia demanded.

  “Girls are trouble. You worry way more about them than you do about boys.”

  Sophia looked over at her husband. “Don’t tell me you buy into that theory, too.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart. I’d argue the trouble part, but I think there’s less to worry about with sons than daughters.”

  “Right. Because guys are so tough, especially with macho-men dads like the two of you would be.”

  “That’s right,” Sam agreed with a fist bump to Jake who seemed to return the gesture with more amusement than agreement. “Besides, if you have a boy, think of all the guy things you get to do—play football, go fishing, teach them how to fix cars...”

  Now’s your chance. You can ask him any question you want about being a father, raising a son, and no one will question your reasons for asking.

  But the words stayed stuck in Kara’s throat, caught there, maybe, by the declarations Sam had already made? Guys were supposed to be tough, macho. They were supposed to like trucks and sports and roughhousing. They weren’t supposed to be shy, imaginative souls. They weren’t supposed to be like Timmy.

  If Sam knew the boy was his son, would he set out to toughen him up? Would he try to wear away the boy’s sensitive spirit?

  She couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t let that happen.

  Chapter Five

  “Sorry about my family crashing our date,” Sam said once Sophia and Jake had left for the evening. As much as he loved his sister, a double date had not been part of his plans.

  Kara swirled a straw through the diet soda she’d been nursing. “You talk a lot about your family. It was...good to meet them.”

  “I know they both got a kick out of you trying to pay for my meal.”

  “Well, I do owe you, remember?”

  “Maybe next time,” he said lightly, even though he couldn’t quite get a feel for Kara’s thoughts about this time.

  She’d joined in, taking Sophia’s side during his teasing verbal battles with his sister. The two of them seemed to hit it off, but then the talk had turned to babies and kids, and Kara had withdrawn. She’d fallen silent as he’d joked with Sophia about having a boy—

  Aw, hell...

  How’d he miss that? Kara didn’t have any kids, but he’d already seen how protective she was of Timmy. A boy who was not, Sam had to admit, the toughest of little guys.

  “That stuff I said about raising boys, well, I was just giving Sophia a hard time. That’s what big brothers do.”

  “Like your brothers did to you?”

  “You bet. But they looked out for me, too. The way you look out for Timmy.”

  Her gaze dropped to the glass in her hand. “I know Timmy isn’t what you’d consider tough. But he’s a sweet boy, Sam. A really great kid.”

  Kara looked up then, a wealth of emotion in her eyes as if she expected him to argue. Or as if what he thought mattered. “Sure he is. Anybody can see that.”

  “He’s smart, too. He’s already reading and is advanced far beyond most kids his age.”

  Sam didn’t figure that would score too many points for the kid on the playground, but who was he to argue? And no surprise that Kara would place a high value on intelligence. He wondered what she thought of him—all brawn and no brains?

  “He probably takes after you.”

  Kara shook her head. “My sister was incredibly smart. And incredibly beautiful,” she added with a quiet wistfulness as if she envied her sister, but Sam didn’t see how that could even be possible. Kara had a classic beauty, but when she let down her guard—such as when
she talked about her nephew—in those moments, Sam thought she was the most breathtaking woman he’d ever seen.

  Her caramel eyes glowed with a warmth that one moment was soft and sweet and in the next was hard as forged steel. She loved Timmy, but she was fiercely protective, as well.

  Lost in his thoughts, he nearly missed the words she’d said. Or more to the point, the tense she’d used. “Was,” he murmured gently. “You said your sister was smart and beautiful.”

  Her features grew strained, tension in her shoulders pulling tight on the narrow fingers gripping her glass, and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “Ma—my sister died a month ago.”

  “Do you want to talk—”

  Shaking her head almost violently, she lifted her drink and took a quick sip. “No. I—I can’t. I can’t talk to you...”

  It was stupid, Sam told himself, to feel hurt by her withdrawal. They were little more than strangers, only having met the day before, and Kara had no reason to think she’d be able to trust him with her emotions. Hell, he knew better than anyone that he was the good-time guy and not somebody friends or family turned to in a time of need.

  “I’m sorry, Kara.” The words rang hollow, seeming to emphasize his inadequacy when it came to knowing how to express the empathy he felt. He wasn’t sure how things had gotten so deep that he was in over his head on a first date, but he longed to make his way back to shallower ground, to a place where he could once again find his footing.

  He’d be better off quitting while he was behind, but then Kara ducked her head and reached for the napkin. Without thinking, Sam beat her to it. Her startled, damp gaze shot to his as he lifted the small white square and dabbed at the tears on her cheeks. His fingertips tingled with a desire to feel her soft, smooth skin against his rough, callused hands, but he kept the napkin between them. At least he did until Kara reached up and covered his hand with her own.

  He’d leaned close enough that he could see the faint blush in her cheeks, close enough that he could hear the slight catch in her breathing. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so in tune with a woman. He felt the heat rise in his own skin, the breath stall in his own lungs.

  It was crazy. He’d chased after too many women for a simple touch to strike him as so different and new. But there was nothing simple about the way touching Kara made him feel.

  “Sam, I have to tell you—” Kara’s words cut off with a gasp when a man stumbled against her chair, nearly knocking her over.

  “Hey, buddy, watch where you’re going,” Sam advised as he reached out to steady Kara’s chair, more worried about her than the clumsy drunk who’d knocked into her.

  “Well, if it isn’t little Sammy Pirelli.”

  Sam hadn’t been little in a long time, but Darrell Nelson had always been big. A big bully with an even bigger mouth. Looking up to see the burly trucker swaying on his feet, Sam advised, “Darrell, I think it’s time for you to head home.”

  Home to Nadine Gentry and Will...

  Damn, he wished he could do something about that, but with Will not talking and Nadine protecting her boyfriend, he didn’t know what he could do.

  “Not before I meet your new friend.” Darrell clamped a beefy hand on a free chair, spun it around and straddled the seat. He braced his arms on the back rungs and leaned close to Kara. “Name’s Darrell Nelson. Sammy and I go way back. Did he tell you that?”

  Keeping her composure better than Sam would have imagined, Kara said, “I’m relatively certain he’s never mentioned you.”

  “Well, then let me tell you. Me and Sammy, we’re real close. So close that when he sticks his nose into my business, I just gotta return the favor, you know?”

  He lifted a hand toward her hair, but Sam had had enough. He shot out of his chair and lifted Darrell to his feet before he could touch one perfect strand. Leaning close enough to smell the stench of beer, he warned the other man, “You’re done here, Nelson. And if I see so much as one scratch on Will or Nadine, you’ll be done. Period.”

  Sam unclenched his fists from the front of Darrell’s T-shirt, but he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. The cheap shot to his gut would have brought him to his knees if Darrell hadn’t been too drunk on his feet to make full contact. Sam didn’t have that problem. Using the other man’s unsteady momentum, he dropped him to the floor.

  * * *

  Kara stared in horror at the two men wrestling on the ground as diners from the surrounding tables rushed forward to see what was going on.

  It had all happened so fast. One minute the two men were talking—well, taunting each other. The next thing she knew, Sam had dodged a punch, grabbed the other man’s arm and shoved him to the floor. The excited crowd gave a collective groan when something—a fist, elbow, skull—cracked against the hardwood.

  “Enough!” A shout rose above the din as the bartender circled the bar, shoving patrons aside to get to where Sam pinned Darrell to the ground. “Seriously, Sam? How many times do I have to tell you Pirellis to keep the fights outta my bar? This is the second time in less than a month—”

  “Oh, come on, George!” Kara heard Sam protest as he pushed to his feet and rubbed a knuckle across the corner of his mouth. “That wasn’t even me! That was Nick and Travis Parker.”

  “I don’t care! The sheriff can straighten it out this time.”

  Kara wasn’t sure how she eased through the curious bystanders gathered around the two men, but the excited buzz followed. Bar fights...calls to the sheriff...how many times...

  Only once she stepped outside into the cool night air did she realize the she wasn’t hearing the voices from crowd but the ones echoing inside her head.

  She’d never witnessed a fight before. A flash of lights down the street signaled the sheriff’s imminent arrival, and she quickened her pace. She’d never had any involvement with the police before—not even so much as a parking ticket.

  “Kara, wait!” Footsteps pounded behind her, and Sam reached her before she reached the corner. The streetlight illuminated the regret carving grooves in his forehead. “I am so sorry. This is not how I pictured tonight ending.”

  Car doors slammed behind them, and he glanced back with a muttered curse. “Just—give me a second chance, okay?”

  “That’s not necessary and...I won’t be in town for long.”

  “Please, Kara.” Urgency deepened his voice and threatened to slip beneath her defenses. “When Darrell tried to touch you—I didn’t want him laying a hand on you, not after what he did to Will.”

  “Will?” She sucked in a breath as she remembered the teen’s black eye. “Darrell’s been abusing Will?”

  Sam nodded. “His mother, too, I think. Not that either of them will admit it. Forget pressing charges. But maybe I can for that first punch he threw. It’s not much, but it’ll keep him from going home drunk tonight.”

  Kara swallowed the bitter taste of shame. She’d wanted to blame Sam for the fight—for being a hothead who went around proving his toughness by getting into bar brawls. But the concern in his gaze was too honest, too real, for her to ignore.

  He was as big and as strong as Darrell Nelson, but Sam used that strength to protect those who were smaller and weaker. Sam hadn’t just been defending her—he’d been protecting Will, too. It was an instinct Kara sensed ran deep—much deeper than the easy smile and teasing attitude he revealed to the rest of the world. Sam was a man who cared deeply. Deeply enough not to let it show. Attraction burned brighter along with a growing admiration, and Kara reached up to brush her fingertips over a scrape on his jaw. “You need to go back and talk to the sheriff.”

  Catching her wrist, he brought her hand to his mouth. “One more chance.” He spoke the words against her fingers, further weakening her resolve.

  “Sam...”

  A masculine shout from down the
street echoed her tremulous whisper, and she slipped her hands from his as Sam looked back. The sheriff pointed at Sam and motioned him over.

  “You need to go,” Kara repeated.

  His shoulders rose and fell on a defeated sigh. “Okay. But I’m taking you to the hotel first.” Cutting off her protest, he added, “It’s going to take more than a fight with Darrell Nelson to keep me from seeing a lady back to her door.”

  * * *

  Hope Daniels looked up from the magazine she’d been reading when Kara stepped inside. “Kara, dear, you’re back earlier than I expected.... Where’s Sam?”

  “He, um, went back to the restaurant.” After seeing her to the door just as he’d promised. Out in the hallway, his gaze had searched hers, looking for some sign from her. But when all she did was remind him that the sheriff was waiting, he wished her a good-night and left....

  “Are you all right, Kara?” Hope asked as she placed a comforting hand on her arm.

  Taking a deep breath to calm her still-shaking nerves, she nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you for watching Timmy. How was he?”

  “He’s a sweet boy. Adorable, too, with those blond curls and green eyes. Takes after his father, doesn’t he?”

  Heart lodged in her throat, Kara stared at the other woman. “He—what?”

  Hope peered from behind the frames of her glasses. “I was asking if he takes after his father.”

  It’s a simple question, Kara. Hardly complicated. It doesn’t mean she knows...she can’t know.

  “Yes, I suppose he does.”

  Kara wished the older woman good-night and went to check on her nephew. A narrow slice of light illuminated the bed. Timmy was sleeping soundly with his dinosaur under one arm. She gave a sigh of relief seeing the sheets still tucked around him, a sign that nightmares hadn’t plagued his dreams.

  After getting ready for bed, Kara reached up to turn off the bathroom light. Her hand paused over the switch as she caught sight of her reflection. Somehow, she’d managed to brush her teeth, take off her makeup and smooth on her moisturizer all without looking herself in the eye, but now she couldn’t seem to look away.

 

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