Full-Time Father

by Susan Mallery

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer still. She could feel his arousal pressing against her belly. Her panties were damp, her nipples hard.

  She slipped her hands up to his shoulders and clung to him. He cupped her face, holding her still as he plunged inside her mouth. He imitated the act of love. The power she felt in his quivering muscles made her weak with desire. He pressed kisses to her cheeks, her chin, her jaw. He bit her left earlobe, then rested his face against her neck and breathed her name.

  Every part of her was ready for him. Every cell in her body ached for his touch, for the release that would follow. His arousal flexed once against her belly. She moaned and pressed closer.

  Parker straightened. He tucked her hair behind her ears. She searched his face but it was too dark to see what he was thinking. The occasional flashes of lightning didn’t provide enough light and the glow of the lamp didn’t reach this far.

  “I’m shaking,” he said huskily.

  “Me, too.”

  “I can’t do this.”

  “I know.” She’d always known. He wasn’t for her. He wasn’t the one. He still loved Robin. Stacey confused things. Erin wasn’t ready to claim her turn.

  He pressed a quick kiss on her forehead, then left her. She listened to the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. When she was alone, she touched her fingers to her throbbing mouth and told herself it was for the best. Getting involved with him would be silly. This was a temporary situation. At the end of the summer, she would return to her own life. It was enough to know, at least for tonight, he’d wanted her. Because wanting was so much safer than doing.

  That’s what Stacey had never learned. Erin knew better. She wasn’t going to be Stacey all over again. She wasn’t going to make the mistake of falling in love with Parker Hamilton.

  Chapter Nine

  Parker quickly climbed the stairs to the second floor and headed for his room. He didn’t want to think about what had just happened. He couldn’t not.

  He’d kissed her. More than that, he’d devoured her as if he were a man facing sustenance for the first time in years. Perhaps that is what had happened. It had been years…at least for him.

  He walked to his window and stared out at the storm. Lightning continued to flash, but it had moved away. Now the glimmering bolts came from a distance. He raised his hand to press it against the pane of glass, then noticed his fingers trembling. His whole body was shaking. Still. The desire threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to go back downstairs, haul her into his arms and pick up where they’d left off. He wanted to love every inch of her body, starting at the bottom, working his way up, only to start over when he reached the top.

  His need frightened him as much as the vivid images of what Erin would look like in his bed. And it was Erin he wanted there, not Stacey. God forgive him, not even Robin.

  He closed his eyes against the storm and the night, against the tactile sensations still lingering in the memory of his body. Why now? Why with her? In the past five years he’d avoided any kind of emotional relationship. It hadn’t been difficult. After the first year, he’d felt a stirring of some physical need. He’d dated a couple of women, had even had sex with them. But that had been about finding release, not making love. It had been about being naked, not being intimate.

  With Erin, he could imagine being both.

  Self-loathing and guilt rose in his throat like bile. How could he have done that? How could he have confessed his attraction to her? Of course she had to have known, but she’d been polite and had pretended not to notice. He had to bring it out in the open. She must think he was the biggest jerk she’d ever met. Some role model for Christie.

  He ignored the voice that whispered she hadn’t kissed him like a woman who was appalled or disgusted by his confession. She’d gone willingly into his arms. He just wasn’t sure why.

  He swore under his breath. The desire had stunned him with its intensity. He hadn’t expected to ever feel it again. He’d wanted to take Erin right there, on the floor. He hadn’t cared about anything but being with her.

  He pushed off the windows and walked to the dresser. Robin’s picture was there. He picked it up, moved to the bed and sat down. He stared at the likeness, at the familiar lines of her face, at the shape of her mouth. He forced himself to remember what it had been like when they were together. Then he waited for the pain.

  He braced himself against the inevitable longing, against the memories that would crash in around him. He knew that while he had that, he had her.

  He closed his eyes, sucked in a breath…and felt only bittersweet sadness. The love was there, the memories. He could recall a thousand different moments with her. He could imagine her smile, the sound of her voice, even a silly joke she’d told. The corner of his mouth turned up as he recalled how she’d insisted he turn his back if he was in the bathroom when she got out of the shower. They could spend an afternoon in bed together, but she wouldn’t let him watch her step out of the shower stall naked.

  The memories were good. Intellectually he knew they might even be better than the marriage had been. He didn’t recall the fights or her stubbornness. He almost never remembered the times she’d turned away from his touch because she was tired or not in the mood. Held in his memories, their marriage was forever perfect.

  He wasn’t sure how long he sat there staring at the photograph. He touched his fingertip to her face, as if he could trace her cheek. Instead of warm skin, he felt only glass. She was gone, and with her, the pain.

  Instead of relief, he felt empty, as if a familiar companion had moved on without him. Now what? How did he remember? The sharp edges of hurt had kept him close to her. He loved her; he would always love her. Was that going to be enough? What would become of her if he let her go?

  He lay back on the bed and rested the photograph facedown on his chest. Perhaps this is what Robin had wanted all along. After all it was his fault that she was gone. She’d died because of him.

  Stacey had died because of him. Because of what he’d said to her. Because he’d let her go without a thought. Did Erin ever think of that? In the blackness of night, did she rail at him for what he’d stolen. Not only her sister, a twin so much like herself that they were nearly halves of the same whole, but he had also stolen her dreams. Whatever Erin had wanted after college had been snatched away by the day-to-day grind of looking after an infant.

  He was dangerous to anyone who loved him. That put Christie in danger. He closed his eyes and swore he would die before he would let anything happen to his child. Somehow he would break the curse.

  He also couldn’t take a chance on Erin. He couldn’t let her know that she was the first one to get through the barricade he’d built around himself. He couldn’t let her know that she was slowly bringing him back to the land of the feeling. He would have to resist the life she offered and the passion he felt. If he didn’t, she would be at risk, too.

  The storm continued to rage for another thirty-six hours. When it was finally done, the sun made a watery appearance over the ocean.

  Parker was at his computer when he first noticed a finger of light creeping across his desk. He glanced out the window and saw that the clouds had broken up and nearly blown away. Erin and Christie were in the second-floor library, going through books. Without stopping to consider that it might be best for everyone if he tried harder to stay away from Erin, he saved what he was working on, then left his office and started down the hall.

  He paused in the doorway of the library. Books were in tall, teetering piles. Erin sat cross-legged on the floor with Christie curled up next to her.

  “What’s that one about, Mommy?” Christie asked, pointing at the book Erin had just picked up from a stack next to her.

  “I’m not sure. Let’s see. Hmm, it seems to be about elephants.”

  “Lelephants?”

  “You’ve seen them in the zoo and on television.”

  “I know what they are,” Christie informed h
er, her tone indicating everyone knew what “lelephants” were.

  Erin leaned over and tickled her daughter one-handed. “Don’t act so high and mighty with me, miss. You are only four years old, and I’m still your mother.”

  Christie wiggled closer and giggled. Their heads bent together. Erin put the book down and gathered the girl in her arms.

  “You’re my best girl,” she said, then hugged her close.

  “I love you, Mommy.”

  “And I love you.”

  Their affection was tangible. Parker could have watched them for hours. He felt the residual warmth of their caring and it helped heal him a little.

  Suddenly Christie noticed him standing in the doorway. “Daddy!” she crowed, then grinned. “You’ve got a book on lelephants.”

  “So I heard,” he said and stepped into the room.

  Erin released Christie who scrambled to her feet and raced to him. He picked her up and swung her around the room. “What are you doing in here?” he asked.

  “We’re helpin’.”

  He settled her against his side. She slipped her legs around his waist and rested one arm on his shoulder. He leaned forward and they rubbed noses, a ritual she’d started a few days before.

  “Looks like you’re making a mess,” he said.

  Erin stood up and glanced around. “I can see why you’d think that, but trust me, the original plan was about helping. I thought we could get the library in order. Sort the books by type, then alphabetize them.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.”

  He risked looking at her. In jeans and pink T-shirt she looked more like Christie’s baby-sitter than her mother. She met his gaze easily, as she had yesterday. He was the one who was nervous. Every time he looked at her, he relived their kiss and fought against the urge to do it again. Obviously she wasn’t having the same kind of trouble. Or maybe it had only been good for him.

  He dismissed that thought as soon as it appeared. He might not have been with a woman in a long time, and before that he might not have slept with a long list of women, but he knew a sensual response when he felt one. Erin had clung to him with unmistakable desire.

  He supposed he should be grateful she was acting so normal. Life would be difficult if she were mooning after him, or worse, angry. But he couldn’t quite make himself feel anything but annoyed that she was so calm.

  “Parker, I have to do something with my time,” she said as she dusted off her behind. “I’m not used to playing the lady of the manor. Besides, I like looking at all the different books. This is an amazing collection.”

  “I can’t take credit for it. Some were here when I bought the house and I picked up the rest at estate sales.”

  “There’s even some books for me,” Christie said, plucking at his shirt to reclaim his attention. “You can read me one tonight.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  She gave him her best smile.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he said, bouncing her in his arms.

  “What?” she asked.

  “It’s sunny outside. I thought we could walk along the beach and look at what the storm blew in.”

  “That would be fun,” Christie said and clapped her hands together. “Can we, Mommy?”

  “Sure.” Erin started out of the room. “I’ll go grab our sweaters then meet you two in the foyer.”

  There were a few leaves and branches on the stairs down to the water. Parker went first and tested the way. Christie had insisted on climbing down on her own, although it took her nearly twice as long. Erin brought up the rear.

  The breeze was stiff and cool. Sea gulls and some of the shore birds circled over the violent surf.

  “We can’t stay too long,” Parker said, waving at the foamy water thundering onto the sand. “High tide today will cover the beach.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got about an hour and a half.”

  Erin zipped up her blue sweatshirt, then adjusted the camera she’d hung around her neck. “That should be enough time to tire this one out.” She bent over and buttoned Christie’s jacket.

  “I’m not tired,” the little girl said.

  “With any luck, you’re going to be,” Erin said, then smiled at him. “It’s horrible when we get a couple of weeks of solid rain back home. She can’t go outside and she practically jumps off the wall. Kids have so much energy. Sometimes I get worn out just watching her.”

  “Then we’re going to have to run it out of her,” Parker said. He pointed to a large twisted piece of wood that had washed on shore. It was about twenty-five feet away. “I’ll race you, Christie.”

  “Okay, but I go first ‘coz you got longer legs.”

  “All right, go!” he shouted.

  She took off running. Her short legs pumped for all they were worth.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Erin said, her hazel eyes bright with amusement.

  “Why not? I’ve been cooped up, too.” He started jogging. “I’m going to catch you,” he called.

  “No, you’re not!”

  Christie reached the driftwood three steps ahead of him.

  “I won, I won, I won,” she squealed, punctuating each “I won” with a little jump. Her small pink athletic shoes crunched on the sand but didn’t make an imprint. Her pigtails flapped up and down.

  He picked her up, turned her around in midair and set her on his shoulders. She grabbed hold of his sweater.

  “Go fast!” she ordered.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He took off down the beach.

  “Faster! Faster than anybody!”

  He raced to the cliff, then back along the shore. Erin sat on the bottom step and loaded film into her camera.

  “The wrong person is getting tired out,” she told him as he ran by for the third time.

  “I know,” he said, his breathing heavy. He grabbed Christie and set her down. “Now it’s your turn to carry me.”

  His daughter giggled at him. “Daddy, you’re silly.” She gave him a playful pat on the thigh, then turned and saw a small crab racing across the sand. “Come back, little crab. Come play with me.” She hurried after her new playmate.

  He leaned against the stair railing and glanced after her. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to remember how small she is. She’s so bright and articulate, I expect her to be bigger.”

  “And older,” Erin agreed. “Sometimes I think she’s secretly thirty-five and just her body is four. Other times, she’s a real baby and I wonder if she’ll ever grow up.”

  “But most of the time you know you were lucky when you got her.”

  Erin tilted her head and glanced up at him. “That’s very perceptive, Parker.”

  “You think I don’t feel the same way?”

  “I suppose you must. I’m glad you appreciate her.”

  He placed one arm on the top of the railing and leaned toward her. “You took a big chance when you came to find me. I could have been a real jerk.” Not to say he wasn’t, but he was talking about his relationship with Christie, not Erin.

  “I was worried at first,” she admitted. “Then I found this article tucked away in the back of a business magazine. It was on successful entrepreneurs who gave back. Some of them were very flashy about it, but a lot weren’t. There was a sidebar about some of the silent givers, I think they called them. You were listed there. I was impressed. I figured anyone who gave that much money to help kids get a decent education couldn’t be all bad.”

  “Yeah, well.” He shifted uncomfortably. “It’s a tax write-off.”

  “Sure, Parker. Sell that somewhere else. I know the truth.”

  “What’s that?”

  She finished loading the film, then shut the back of the case. “You’re just a softy at heart.”

  “Tell that to my competition.”

  “Maybe I will. They’re trying to pry industrial secrets out of me. We chat nightly.”

  When she smiled, both her dimples appeared. He decided he liked
looking at her. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful. Some men might not think she was even pretty, but he disagreed. She had an honest and open face. He knew he could trust her. And she had a warm and giving heart. That was more important than model-perfect beauty any day.

  “Look what I found,” Christie said, racing toward them. She held a shell in her hand. It was small and circular, pale cream on the outside and the softest pink within.

  “I wonder how it survived the storm,” Erin murmured as she raised the camera to her left eye. “Honey, hold your hand up by your chin, but flat. That’s right. Don’t you think I’m being silly?”

  “Yes,” Christie said as she did what her mother asked. “Very silly.”

  “I want you to make a face and show me how silly.”

  Christie wrinkled her nose, then grinned. “You’re funny, too, Mommy.”

  “I know.” The camera clicked several times, then Erin lowered it to her lap. “Do you want me to keep your shell for you?”

  “You’re busy,” Christie said. “Here, Daddy. You keep it.” She carefully handed him her treasure, then returned to search the shoreline for more.”

  Along with shells and battered pieces of wood there were bottles, a couple of cans, bits of clothing and twisted chunks of metal and plastic that could have come from anywhere. The tide would take most of it back tonight and in a few days the sand would be clean again.

  “A dinghy washed up here once,” he said.

  “Had it come loose from a larger boat?” Erin asked as she stood up.

  “Probably. It wasn’t marked, though, so I had no way to find the owners. I ended up donating it to a kids’ club in town.”

  “I’m sure they appreciated that.”

  He shrugged.

  “Why do you do these nice things, then act all weird when I mention them?” she asked.

  “I don’t do them to get noticed. It’s just right.”

  Hazel eyes studied him. Her mouth pulled into a straight line. “Sometimes you’re a confusing man, Parker Hamilton.”

  She was close enough to touch, close enough for him to feel her heat and want to pull her into his arms. “Is that good or bad?”