Always Daddy

by Karen Rose Smith

  She hesitated a moment, then asked, “Do you live in Los Angeles?”

  “I have a beach house in Malibu. It’s worth the commute. I’d hate to be cooped up in an apartment.”

  Running her hand over the sheet of paneling he’d already attached, she asked, “Do you have much room at the hotel?”

  “It’s an efficiency suite.” Her hand was small, delicate, smooth. He could imagine it…Blanking out the thought, he gestured to the playhouse. “But I get cabin fever easily and this project will get me out in the fresh air. You have a lot more of that here than we do in L.A.”

  Alicia took a step toward the door. “It’ll be dark shortly. I’m going to take Emily inside and give her a bath.”

  “Can I tuck her in?”

  “No,” Alicia answered quickly. Then she added, “She’s going to start asking questions.”

  “Don’t friends of yours ever tuck her in?”

  “Ria does and Gertie. And the baby-sitter I use sometimes. No one else.”

  “I think I just got the answer to my question.” Before she could respond, he added, “What about reading Emily a story before bed? Certainly there’s no harm in that.”

  Alicia weighed his suggestion, then answered, “All right. We’ll be waiting in the living room.”

  He moved to the side so he wasn’t blocking the door. “Alicia?”

  She paused before ducking out.

  “Thank you.”

  She nodded. He wondered if she knew he didn’t mean for the iced tea but for letting him into their lives, however reluctantly.

  Luckily he’d thrown a clean T-shirt into his car. After he’d stowed the sawhorses and supplies in Alicia’s garage, he saw the spigot by the side of the house. He tugged his shirt over his head, turned the handle, took the end of the hose and stooped over, letting the water run over his neck.

  Alicia heard the water go on as she dried off her daughter and helped her into her pajamas. Emily ran off to her room for a book, and Alicia peeped out the bathroom window. The last rays of light were slipping behind the tree line. Jon’s profile was strong and clear as he wiped his face and neck with the T-shirt that had covered him earlier. When she’d taken him the iced tea, he’d been sweaty, the musky smell of hard work filling the playhouse. While he’d worked, his shirt had molded to his chest and his arms, delineating the muscle underneath. Obviously, he was not a man who spent all of his time in an office.

  Now that he’d removed the shirt, Alicia could see his muscles rippling. She was enthralled by the shadows playing over his back and wondered how much hair he had on his chest. She’d seen the dark curls peeping over the crew neck of his shirt.

  Without warning, Jon turned around and she got a good look at the dark curling hair dividing his chest, swirling around his nipples, and whorling under his belt buckle. Her breath stuck in her throat…until he looked up and saw her watching. Suddenly she thought she’d never breathe again. Male-female awareness. Stark. Intense. Frightening.

  Turning away from the window, she braced her arms on the sink. She ran the cold water and splashed her cheeks, then took a deep breath and wiped them, knowing the best thing for her to do was to get Jon Wescott out of her house the minute her daughter went to bed.

  Jon’s baritone was hypnotic as he read Emily a story about a little engine who wouldn’t give up. The sound of his voice rose and fell and changed tone. He related to her daughter so easily, Alicia thought. And Emily apparently liked him. With some people she’d shyly back off. But she hadn’t done that with Jon. Right now, cuddled in the crook of his arm, she couldn’t look any more comfortable or contented.

  Jon made no move to leave after he finished the story. As Emily waved good-night and took Alicia’s hand, he crossed his ankle over his knee and said, “I’ll wait until you put Emily to bed.”

  Emily tugged on her mother’s hand and stopped abruptly on the first step. “Mr. Wescott, can you come to carnival day on Saturday?”

  He looked to Alicia for an explanation.

  “Our church has a bazaar on Saturday. A penny carnival, bingo, turkey dinner in the evening.” Her attitude suggested it was nothing he’d enjoy.

  “It’s fun,” Emily insisted. “Can you come? Mommy’s gonna work at the flower stand.”

  “Only for two hours before dinner,” Alicia added.

  “Who’s going to watch Emily?”

  Already he sounded like a parent. “Ria will stop in for a while.”

  “She throws pennies real good,” Emily informed him. “Do you?”

  “I can’t remember the last time I threw pennies. You might have to show me how.”

  “You’ll come?” Emily asked eagerly.

  Jon smiled. “Sure.”

  Sure, Alicia repeated to herself as she walked with Emily up the stairs. The man was invading every inch of her life and enjoying himself while he did it. It frightened her. What if Emily not only got to know Jon, but got attached? What if Jonathan Wescott was being agreeable now only to try to take Emily away later? What was the best thing to do? Push him away? Then would he take her to court? All she could do was take one day at a time, hoping she made the right choices.

  Jon was still sitting on the sofa when she returned. “I’ll need directions,” he said easily.

  “You don’t have to come. If you feel roped into this…”

  “I’ve never been to a church bazaar.”

  Her brows arched. “Never?”

  “Nope. My mother has served on charity boards, but we never belonged to a church.”

  Alicia lighted on the edge of the chair near the sofa. “I can’t imagine that. My mother took Ria and me every Sunday. It was routine, part of what we did. After Patrick died, it became more than a routine, and I guess I realized why she’d done it all those years.”

  “Why?”

  Questions again. Was Wescott Industries a think tank? Alicia couldn’t see the harm in answering him this time. “She found comfort there she couldn’t find anywhere else.”

  “Did you find comfort there?” he asked, his green eyes sympathetic.

  She couldn’t help but respond to the caring in his voice. “Thank God, I wasn’t alone like my mother. I had Ria. But, yes, I found comfort there.”

  “Your father is dead?”

  “Yes. But my mother felt alone all through her marriage. Church was the one place she could escape to without him going on a rampage.” Alicia could see more questions in Jon’s eyes, questions she didn’t want to answer. Again, she’d revealed too much. What about this man made her do that?

  Jon surprised her by giving a bit of his own history. “My father died shortly after Cecile left Los Angeles. Even though she’d ended the relationship, I probably would have tried to contact her, but suddenly I had my responsibilities and my father’s, too. My mother has an accountant, but she’d never been involved in the business. I didn’t realize until after Dad was gone how much she’d leaned on him.”

  “Did they have a good marriage?” Alicia knew her background had affected her view of relationships. Had Jon’s?

  He cocked his head and seemed to look into the past. “To tell the truth, I’m not sure. Dad worked constantly. Mom had her own interests. I saw little affection between them. Yet, they had this bond I could feel when I was around them. One of mutual respect and deep commitment.”

  “Mutual respect. That’s what I never saw between my parents,” Alicia murmured.

  Focusing on her again, his gaze lingered on her lips. “Where’s your mother now?”

  Alicia took in a quick breath. “She lives with her sister in Ohio.”

  Jon put his feet flat on the floor and shifted toward her. “Wouldn’t she rather be near her daughters and her granddaughter?”

  Her heart always hurt when she thought of her mother. “As a companion for Aunt Edna, she doesn’t have to pay rent or many other expenses. She’s never held a full-time job or been on her own. After my father died, she didn’t know where to start. This was the easy w
ay out for her.”

  “Then you don’t see her often?”

  Alicia brushed her thumb back and forth across the arm of her chair. “Ria and I try to drive out three or four times a year. But we have to make all the effort.”

  “If my mother knew about Emily, she’d visit as often as she could. She loves kids. Most of the charity work she does is for children’s organizations.”

  Alicia thought about Emily having another grandmother, another family. “Who does know, Jon?”

  “Adam, my lawyer in Los Angeles. And the lawyer I retained here.” He leaned forward. “Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  “Why?” she asked, unable to keep the wariness from her voice.

  “Because I enjoy talking to you. And because a friendship between us will help where Emily’s concerned.”

  A friendship. Is that what Jonathan Wescott really wanted? Maybe she’d mistaken the intensity of his kiss, the look in his eyes earlier, the heat between them. Maybe she was overreacting to the whole situation. But the fear of losing Emily had been a weight on her heart since Jon had announced he was her father. If she found out more about him, maybe he wouldn’t seem so threatening. And maybe she’d have ammunition if she needed it.

  “If Ria can’t stay with Emily, I can probably get a baby-sitter. If there’s a problem, I’ll call you.”

  When he stood, so did she. He walked to the door and she followed. Instead of opening the screen door, though, he turned toward her. She got caught in the green of his eyes. The heat began again and her heart raced.

  He gently brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  If she moved, she’d break the spell. If she moved, she knew he’d kiss her. She stood perfectly still.

  He dropped his hand and opened the screen door. As she heard his car start, she sagged against the wall. He might say he wanted friendship, but she guessed he wanted more. How much more?

  Alicia was furious, absolutely furious. Thursday afternoon, gripping a letter she’d received in the mail, she lifted the phone and dialed. When Jon picked up at his end, she slapped the letter down on her blotter. “Exactly what type of visitation rights do you intend to file for, Mr. Wescott? You want friendship? I don’t think so. Friendship requires trust. How can I trust you when you go behind my back?”

  He swore, the kind of words her father used to use. Alicia almost hung up. But she’d never stood up to her father, and she was going to stand up to Jonathan Wescott. “I don’t deserve that kind of—”

  “No, you don’t. Alicia, I told Adam to draw up the papers when I first found out about Emily. Truthfully, I’d forgotten about them.”

  “Forgotten you want visitation rights?”

  “Of course not. Forgotten I’d asked Adam to send them. Then, I thought I was going to have to fight you every step of the way.”

  “You are. I’ll have my lawyer call you. There’s no proof you’re Emily’s father and if you think I’m going to sign away rights without any proof, you’re mistaken.”

  “Be reasonable, Alicia. Let’s talk about it at dinner tonight.”

  “Dinner? Dinner’s off. I can’t be friends with someone I can’t trust.”

  “Don’t do this, Alicia. I’ll file for more than visitation rights if you don’t give me access to Emily. I’ll get a court order for the paternity testing and sue for custody.”

  “You just try it,” she retorted, her voice strained as she tasted the bitterness of fear and held back her tears. Hanging up, Alicia not only felt afraid and angry, but she also felt a sorrow that didn’t belong. Why? Because she was beginning to like Jonathan Wescott? Because she was attracted to him in a way she’d never been attracted to another man?

  None of that mattered now because she was in for the fight of her life.

  Jon slammed down the receiver, angry with himself. He was slipping. He’d forgotten he’d told Adam to send the damn letter. So now Alicia thought he’d been manipulating her.

  He shouldn’t have threatened her. But it wasn’t in his nature to back down or to give up easily. He couldn’t give up on his daughter…or Alicia. There was only one thing to do—confront her openly and make her see his point of view.

  Saturday afternoon, he found the only church in Alicia’s area of Camp Hill having a bazaar. The sun shone on the parking lot and the wooden stands, some covered with canopies. The spring breeze ruffled his hair and flipped the collar of his blue polo shirt. He didn’t care. He was only concerned with finding Alicia and convincing her…What? That he wasn’t a calculating, ruthless scoundrel? He felt like a scoundrel when he was with her. He wanted to carry her off somewhere, kiss her senseless…Damn. When had his interest shifted to Alicia?

  He still wanted to be a father to his daughter, get to know her. But he wanted to spend a lot more time with Alicia, too. Why? So they could have a torrid affair? That could harm his chances of getting joint custody of Emily more than help them. Because when affairs were over…

  He finally caught sight of Alicia. She was standing among a backdrop of flowers. Bunches of lilacs stood in a bucket in one corner. Hyacinths, mums and daisies lined the waist-high shelf. In back of her, dried flower arrangements hung in bouquets, on fans, with lace and ribbons. She was smiling at a woman who’d bought a pot of mums.

  Alicia’s lavender blouse with its demure yet alluring boat neckline, her lavender slacks and white espadrilles, made her look like a spring vision. He just hoped she wouldn’t turn into a summer storm when she saw him. At least in a public place she wasn’t likely to call the police. Or make a scene. A woman like Alicia would hate making a scene.

  He waited until the lady with the mums strolled away, then he walked to the stand and plucked one lilac from the bunch. Alicia was facing the cash box and didn’t notice him. He tapped her on the shoulder with the lilac.

  Her expression was priceless—shock, surprise and a moment later a whole lot of anger.

  He held out the lilac to her. “I thought here you wouldn’t call for reinforcements.”

  “Well, you thought wrong.” She stepped out from behind the makeshift counter and scanned the crowd.

  “You can’t leave the stand unattended. You’ll lose sales.”

  She looked at the cash box and the flowers that were left. Then she faced him squarely. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “I know you don’t. But I want to talk to you.”

  “Why? So you can charm me, and persuade me, and pull the wool over my eyes again?”

  “No.”

  Not seeing whoever she was trying to find in the crowd, she stepped behind the counter again. It was a tangible barrier between them.

  Laying the lilac down in front of her, he decided he’d buy out all the flowers at the stand if he thought it would help. A realization came swiftly like a bolt of lightning—Alicia couldn’t be bought. He suddenly knew that as well as his own name. So what would it take to get her to listen to him?

  The unvarnished truth.

  Holding her gaze, he said, “After our first meeting, I told Adam to send you the letter. I didn’t think I had a choice. After our meeting in your sister’s office, I was sure of it. But then you agreed to let me into your life, and I forgot about it. All I had on my mind was getting to know Emily.”

  He saw the wariness in Alicia’s eyes, and he didn’t blame her. No one liked to be taken advantage of. That was exactly what she’d thought he’d done.

  She braced her hands on the wooden counter as if bracing herself for a blow. “Are you going to file for visitation rights? Custody?”

  “I’m not going to string you along, Alicia. I want to have the paternity testing done. I think you need to know for sure that I’m Emily’s father. Living with uncertainty is more difficult than facing the truth.”

  “I don’t know,” she said quietly.

  He covered one of her hands with his. “I’m not going to go away.” All at once he realized that
even if Emily weren’t involved, he’d want to get closer to this complex woman who backed off whenever he got too close.

  “Mr. Wescott, Mr. Wescott. You came! I want to win a goldfish but I can’t throw the ball into the bowl. Can you do it?”

  Emily let go of Ria’s hand and ran toward him, waiting for his answer.

  He saw the message Ria exchanged with Alicia with her eyes. It was a “do-you-need-help-dealing-with-him?” look. His usual confrontational tactics that had worked well in his past, obviously didn’t work with Alicia Fallon. There was a delicate balance at stake here, a matter of her beginning to trust him. She might if he put some of the control in her hands. It was worth a shot.

  He crouched down to Emily’s level. “I can try to win you a goldfish. But your mom might have other plans.”

  “Mommy?”

  Alicia studied Jon stooped down with her daughter. She met his gaze and seemed to try to see into his soul. Maybe she did because she asked him, “Do you like turkey and stuffing?”

  “I haven’t had it since Thanksgiving. I’m due.”

  “Then, see if you can win this lovely child a goldfish and afterward we’ll go have something to eat. My replacement is due any minute.”

  The muscles in his shoulders relaxed. Standing, he let his daughter pull him toward the goldfish stand only a few feet away.

  Alicia hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. She didn’t trust easily. But something about Jon led her to trust him. Maybe it was the way he laid everything out on the table. He didn’t sugarcoat it, and he spoke plainly. He had an agenda of his own, and he pushed to get it accomplished. In some ways, Jon Wescott reminded her of her father. Yet in others…

  Her father had been overbearing, never listening to the people around him. Jon, on the other hand, seemed to listen.

  “What are you going to do?” Ria asked her as she watched Jon toss his first ball.

  “I’m not sure. If he is her father, I have to let him into her life. For her sake. We never felt dad’s love, or had his affection. If Emily has a chance to know a father’s love, I can’t take that away from her, no matter how the circumstances might affect me.” After a moment of silence, she nodded toward her daughter and said softly, “She likes him.”