Her struggle for calm seemed to take the edge off Sam’s anger, but the bitterness was still loud and clear as he asked, “And one date decides that, huh, professor? You teachers love to spring pop quizzes on students, right? So you sat across from me at that table last night, checking off everything I did wrong, determining whether or not I’d be a failure as a father.”
“That’s not what I was doing! I just wanted to see what kind of man you are and to try and decide what’s best for Timmy. If you can’t believe anything else I say, at least believe that.”
He sank back against the guardrail, his forearms pulled tight as he gripped the metal. “Where was Timmy? When Marti...”
“With me. The guy she’d been seeing had a pilot’s license and his own plane. He wanted to take Marti down to Mexico. She asked me to watch him, and well, I rarely said no.”
Another silence followed, finally broken by Sam’s gruff voice. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saving my son.”
Kara’s startled gaze met his. “Saving him?”
“I might not have known your sister as well as I thought I did,” Sam admitted, “but unless she changed a lot in the past five years, she wasn’t the type to miss out on a trip to Mexico. Or, hell, a trip to anywhere. What would she have done if you hadn’t been able to watch Timmy?”
Kara’s faced paled at his words. “I try not to think about it,” she confessed softly.
His own gut clenched when he thought of the close call and what might have happened if not for Kara. She’d kept Timmy safe, but she’d lost her only sibling. He couldn’t imagine what she’d gone through. He fiercely loved his brothers and sister. As strong as his family was, that kind of tragedy would devastate the Pirellis.
“I’m sorry about Marti. It’s hard to believe she’s gone.”
“Sometimes I still can’t believe it. She left a letter for me. I have it with me if you’d like to read it.”
At his nod, Kara went back to the minivan and pulled a folded piece of paper from her purse. Kara was watching closely as she handed him the letter, and Sam wished he had some privacy for this moment. Sucking in a deep breath, he opened the page and started to read.
Kara—
My big sis...I’m not sure which of us is more surprised right now—me to be writing a letter like this or you to be reading it. You know I’ve never been much on planning for the future, but I hope you’ve seen that having Timmy has changed me. At least a little.
You stood by me when I got pregnant, and you’ve been there for me and Timmy every step of the way since.
You’ve always encouraged me to talk about Timmy’s father—to tell him about Timmy. I know you think it was wrong of me to keep his birth a secret all these years, and maybe you’re right.
I know it’s a lot to ask, but if anything did happen to me, I’d like you to take Timmy to meet his father, Sam Pirelli.
I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but you’ve been the best big sister any little sister could ask for. I love you.
Marti
“She never told you anything about me?”
“No. My parents and I tried to get her to tell us, but she would never say who you were. When she died, I thought—”
“That you would raise him.”
“Yes, that’s what I thought. That’s what I want.”
Well, if he wanted honesty from Kara, she couldn’t be much more up front than that. Determination lifted her chin and she met his gaze head-on, but he could see her vulnerability in the trembling lips she pressed tightly together. What was she trying to hide? Her own doubts and fears? Sam wasn’t sure, but he knew it could only be a fraction of the emotions pummeling him from all sides.
“What do you want, Sam?” For a split second, the years were swept away and he was back in school, getting called out in front of the entire class as the teacher grilled him with questions they both knew damn well he didn’t have the answers to. But his old defenses—a quick comeback and an easy smile—had deserted him. His thoughts were so tangled he didn’t know where one idea began or the next ended, and he’d never felt less like smiling.
What did he want? Did Kara honest to God think he had some kind of backup plan for something like this? Or was she simply waiting, like his teachers had, for him to admit he didn’t have a damn clue?
But this wasn’t just about him. Nothing in life could be just about him anymore, because now there was Timmy. A cute, serious, smart little boy to think about. A little boy who’d already lost his mother and who Sam was well aware now looked to his aunt for comfort and security.
As hard as it was for Sam to wrap his mind around the idea that he had a son, the thought of Kara and Marti being sisters was almost as unbelievable. The woman he remembered from five years ago had been lively and outgoing, and on occasion more than a little outrageous. The time they’d spent together had been filled with late-night parties, bar hopping at the hottest clubs in San Diego. He couldn’t picture Kara in any of those places.
Up until a few days ago, he would have told anyone who asked that Marti was exactly his type of woman. But if that was true, then why did he have such a hard time remembering exactly what she looked like? The sound of her voice? The scent of her perfume?
Why was the face of every woman he’d dated before such a blur? All he could see—all he could think about—was Kara. The subtle arch of her eyebrows, the slim shape of her nose, the high, elegant cheekbones. He felt like he’d made a study of the tempting lift to her lips that promised a full smile to the man lucky enough to earn one.
Her voice, murmuring his name in the split second before he’d kissed her, still echoed in his ears, and it was the whisper that had awakened him that very morning. He’d carried the faint hint of her perfume home on his clothes, the scent haunting his senses.
He couldn’t explain the intensity of his attraction any more than he could deny it—or the way Kara had used that attraction against him. If he’d stopped to think about it, he should have known a woman like her—a college professor—would never go for a blue-collar guy like him. But then again, Sam supposed thinking had never been his strong suit.
The memory of the way she’d played him—the humiliation, the hurt—stoked Sam’s anger again, but he pushed the emotion aside to deal with at another time. He had Timmy to think about now. And there was only one thing Sam was sure of in that moment.
“He’s my son, and I want to get to know him.”
Chapter Seven
“If you don’t take a breath,” Sam said with a glance from the driver’s seat, “you’re gonna pass out before we ever get to my parents’ house.”
“I’m breathing,” Kara argued. Careful, controlled breaths to calm her nerves and keep her from throwing up on the floorboards. She was glad Sam had offered to drive. Her hands, tightly folded in her lap, wouldn’t stop shaking, and she knew she’d be a mess behind the wheel.
Unclenching her fingers, she smoothed her damp palms over the skirt of her dress.
She’d taken longer than usual with her appearance. She’d pulled her hair back in a low ponytail tied by a red ribbon to match the trim beneath the bodice of her white, halter-style sundress. Another red band circled the full skirt just below her knee. Not that what she wore would change what Sam’s family thought of her.
What Sam thought of her.
He had dressed more casually than the night before in faded jeans and a soft grey henley shirt. He’d combed his dark blond hair back, but the natural curl was already resisting. Kara couldn’t imagine what it was about that that made him seem vulnerable. That made her want to reach out and not only smooth the curl back from his forehead, but soothe away the worried lines she saw there despite his reassurance that everything would be fine.
“Remember,” he told her, “this is just dinn
er with friends.”
He’d agreed, reluctantly, that telling Timmy Sam was his father now wasn’t a good idea. The little boy was still trying to cope with the death of his mother. The sudden appearance of a father he’d never met would be too much. Instead, Kara had suggested the two of them get to know each other under the guise of Sam simply being a friend.
So far, Sam had played the part just right. After meeting them at the hotel, he had kept up an easy, one-sided monologue about the swing and huge backyard at his parents’ house, about his niece, Maddie, who was looking forward to meeting Timmy, about his mother who made the best spaghetti ever. With meatballs, he reassured the little boy, because you can’t have spaghetti without meatballs.
“I know, but what about your family? Are they willing to take things slowly?”
“It’s not going to be easy.” Glancing in the rear view mirror, Sam said, “They’re going to want to welcome Timmy with open arms. Family means everything to them.”
Kara didn’t doubt that. Part of her even wished it wasn’t true. Why did Sam have to come from such a close-knit family? It would be so much easier to convince Sam that Timmy’s place was with her if he had dysfunctional relatives scattered throughout the country. So much easier to convince herself...
Wasn’t the way Sam had described the Pirellis—loud, loving, always involved in each other’s lives—exactly the kind of family Kara had longed for as a child? Her own parents had always been too consumed by their careers, too committed to the hospital to spend time at home. Kara had tried hard to gain their approval by following their rules—to study hard, to excel at school—yet her perfect grades were simply expected and rarely celebrated.
But that wasn’t how she would raise Timmy. Yes, her nephew was smart, and she wanted to encourage him to make the most of his gifts, but she wouldn’t weigh him down with her expectations the way her parents had when she was a child. The way they still did, Kara acknowledged, thinking of the nomination for department chair. She still wasn’t sure the position was right for her, but would she be able to withstand their disappointment and disapproval if she turned it down?
Kara shoved the thought aside. She’d face that decision when the time came. For now, her focus was on Timmy and the future she pictured for the two of them. But as Sam pulled up in front of a sprawling ranch-style farmhouse with every window lit in welcome, she couldn’t help wondering why a family of two suddenly seemed too small.
* * *
“Kara, this is my Mom, Vanessa, and my dad, Vince, and my oldest brother, Nick. This is Kara Starling and...her nephew, Timmy.”
As they stepped inside his parents’ house, Kara barely registered the living room’s warm, comfortable furnishings, hardwood floors and cozy stone fireplace before she was surrounded by Sam’s family.
His father, Vince, and older brother Nick were imposing men with dark hair and piercing eyes. She had a hard time reading their expressions as they saw Timmy for the first time, but Vanessa Pirelli’s eyes immediately filled with tears as she gazed down at the little boy. “Timmy, it is so good to meet you.”
She reached out, but Timmy shrank back, hiding behind Kara’s full skirt.
His reaction only showed Kara that she and Sam were doing the right thing in taking these introductions slowly. “I’m sorry,” she told Sam’s mother as she placed a comforting hand on Timmy’s narrow shoulder. “He’s a little shy around new people....”
“Of course, I understand.” Vanessa wrapped her arms around her waist, and Kara sensed the other woman’s almost desperate longing to pull Timmy into her arms. She certainly related to that feeling. She’d wanted to cling to her nephew and not let go since she’d first read Marti’s letter.
Almost against her will, her gaze slid to the man at her side. Other than that initial moment when Sam held his hand out to his son, he hadn’t tried to touch Timmy. Because he was afraid of overwhelming the boy? Or because he was already overwhelmed himself? It was hard to imagine anything knocking a man of Sam’s size to his knees, but finding out he was a father clearly had.
Sam finished the introductions with his brother’s fiancée, Darcy Dawson, a stunning redhead with an easy, infectious smile and Nick’s daughter, Maddie.
“Where are Sophia and Jake?” he asked.
“Sophia called. She says she’s tired, so she and Jake are staying in.”
“And what about Drew?”
“He had a walk-through with a homeowner that he couldn’t reschedule.” Turning to Kara, Vanessa explained, “Drew builds custom houses and his clients can be somewhat demanding, but he’ll be here in time for dinner.”
“You really didn’t have to go to so much trouble. We could have done this another day.”
“Oh, no! We’ve already missed—” Vanessa cut off her words as she pulled her gaze from Timmy and forced a determined smile. “Tonight is perfect.”
She stepped forward, but instead of trying to coax Timmy out from behind Kara, the older woman held out a hand to her granddaughter. “Maddie, dear, why don’t you show Timmy the toy box? Maybe he can find something to play with until dinner is ready.”
A toy box sat in the corner of the room, identical to the one Sam had at his office, but the initial on the front declared this one was Nick’s. Easing Timmy out from behind her, Kara encouraged, “Go take a look, Timmy.”
Maddie swung her ponytail over one shoulder in a move that made her appear the older, wiser cousin. “My gramma kept all kinds of toys from when my dad and uncles were kids. You’ll like ’em, they’re, like, retro.”
“Hear that, hon, you’re retro,” Darcy teased.
The eldest Pirelli sibling rolled his eyes. “So glad you and my daughter think so.”
As the two kids knelt in front of the toy box, Vince said, “Why don’t we all have a seat? Might as well be comfortable.”
Though comfortable was the perfect word to describe the casual furnishings of the room, Kara couldn’t imagine feeling more unsettled until Sam placed his hand on her waist. She hadn’t really thought of the back of her dress as particularly low, but his thumb brushed the naked skin of her back and a shiver raced down her spine to her toes and then up to the base of her neck, leaving goose bumps covering every inch along the way.
“So, Kara, what do you do for a living?” Vince asked as he claimed the recliner and his wife perched on the wide armrest beside him. Nick and Darcy had already settled into armchairs near the fireplace, the cozy patterned seats close enough that the newly engaged couple could link hands. Which left the sofa for Kara and Sam, who sat far closer than she would have preferred.
She tried making a pretense of adjusting her skirt and moving an inch or two away, but his thick, denim-clad thigh had pinned the material beneath its weight. Unless she wanted to have a tug-of-war in front of Sam’s family, she was going to have to stay put.
Plastering a smile on her face, she said, “I’m a teacher.”
“College professor,” Sam corrected. It should have sounded like he was bragging about her accomplishments, and yet somehow didn’t.
“I teach literature at a private college.”
“What do you think—”
Vince’s question was cut off by raised voices coming from the corner. “That’s my book, Timmy.”
“But I want to read it.”
“It’s for big kids. There’s no pictures.”
“I want to read that one!” Timmy voice, little more than a whisper as he’d greeted his new relatives, now came through loud and clear.
“Timmy,” Kara scolded, recognizing the stubborn tilt to his chin all too well. “It’s not yours.”
“Maddie, hon, why don’t you go ahead and give him the book,” Darcy suggested.
“But Darcy!” Exasperation filled Maddie’s voice. “He can’t even read it.”
“
I can too!” Opening the book, he started to read.
Maddie’s jaw dropped almost comically. “Dad, Rachel’s brother is way older than Timmy is, like six, and he can hardly read at all!” When he finished the first paragraph, she said, “Read the next part.”
Timmy glanced over at Kara, and she gave a silent nod. He bent his head over the book and sounded out words that many six-year-olds wouldn’t know. He stopped at the end of the page. “Told you I could read it.”
“Timmy,” Kara admonished.
“Well, he did tell her,” Nick pointed out pragmatically.
Realizing everyone was staring, Timmy thrust the book back at Maddie and rushed into Kara’s arms. For the first time since entering the Pirelli home, she took a deep breath as she cradled his body against hers.
It was only then that she realized the rest of the room had fallen completely silent. Glancing sideways at Sam, she murmured, “Like I said, he’s really smart.”
“That was incredible!” Vanessa gushed, shock still evident in her wide eyes. “To read at that level at his age...”
“We first realized how advanced Timmy is when he was around two, and he’s been attending a preschool for gifted children since he turned three.”
“I don’t think Clearville has anything like that,” Vanessa murmured, shooting a worried glance at her husband.
Kara knew the town didn’t. She’d already checked—another point in favor of Timmy returning to San Diego with her. Pressing a kiss onto the top of his head, she tightened her arms around his small form.
* * *
Sitting on the picnic table in the backyard, Sam exhaled deeply. He’d never before felt the need to escape from his own family, from the house where he’d grown up, but he couldn’t have stayed inside one more minute. The old farmhouse was good-sized and had comfortably fit the Pirelli family and all four kids when they were growing up. But sitting in the kitchen tonight, he’d felt the walls closing in around him and the desperate, overwhelming urge to run.
Not that he’d gone far. The sound of voices drifted across the freshly cut grass, and he doubted his reprieve would last for more than a minute or two. He’d take what he could and hope those few minutes would be enough for him to get his head on straight.
Daddy Says, I Do! Page 9