Suddenly a Father

by Michelle Major

  Jake hadn’t said much on the drive back to the house, and she wondered whether she’d overstepped the bounds by inserting herself into his conversation with Josh and Logan. She knew the brothers meant well, but it had also been obvious that being the center of all that smothering attention wasn’t helping Jake in the least.

  Brooke had wanted Jake to read her a story after she’d said good-night to Millie. At first he’d protested, saying Millie could do the job of putting Brooke to bed better than he. But once he’d been in the room, propped against the headboard with his daughter snuggled to his side, she’d seen the tension ease out of his shoulders. Even though he couldn’t see it, he needed his young daughter as much as she needed him.

  It had felt foolish to wait around for Jake to be finished. What was she going to say to him anyway, especially after telling his brothers to leave him alone?

  She’d retreated to her room, but had left the light on at first and the door open a crack—in case he’d wanted to seek her out. He hadn’t, of course. Such a guy.

  She could still hear the muffled sounds of the television and hated how much she craved his company, even after being there for only a short time. An idea rooted in her brain about Jake’s issues with Crimson and his reluctance to make any sort of plan for the future. It was a flimsy excuse, perhaps, but as Millie padded toward the family room she told herself that this was a conversation they should have when Brooke wasn’t within earshot.

  One soft table lamp and the glow from the television were the only things that lit the family room. A loud crash sounded from the TV, making her jump. An old Bruce Willis action movie was playing. Jake was sitting on the couch, his booted foot propped up on the coffee table.

  She paused in the kitchen, the tile floor cool under her feet. The window above the sink was open and a summer breeze blew in, making goose bumps rise on her arms. Doubts flooded her mind and almost had her turning around to retreat back to her bedroom. Nothing about being so close to Jake late at night in this darkened house was a good idea.

  Before she could move, the sound clicked off from the TV.

  “You can come all the way over,” he said quietly. “I won’t bite.”

  Silly that her heart was beating so frantically. She came around the corner of the couch, suddenly wishing her gauzy summer pajamas were made of heavier fabric. “How did you know I was standing there?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you.” Jake hit a button on the remote and his face was thrown into shadow.

  Millie perched on the corner of the sofa nearest the table lamp, only a few feet from Jake but close to the only light source in the room. She wasn’t ready to be in the dark with him.

  Jake didn’t look at her but picked up a glass from the sofa’s armrest, swirling the clear liquid and ice before taking a long drink. “It’s club soda, if you were wondering,” he said after a moment.

  “I wasn’t.”

  Now he did turn to her, his gaze disbelieving. “Really? After everything you heard tonight, you aren’t the least bit concerned that I’m going to turn into a drunken, pill-popping wreck thanks to the accident? That’s how it really started with my dad. He’d been drinking forever, but he was off work for a while after he fell from a ladder on a job site and hurt his back. He did construction and odd jobs. But from that time, the work was more sporadic and the drinking more regular. I could be a real chip off the old block. That’s what Jake and Logan think, the basis for all of their concern.”

  She shook her head. “I think you’re using your father’s issues as a convenient excuse to avoid facing what’s happened to you. I think you like throwing your brothers off the scent of the real problem.”

  One of his brows rose. “Which is?”

  “How scared you are of failing.”

  She saw his left hand ball into a fist. “Look at me, Millie. Don’t you think I’ve already failed?”

  “At what?”

  After a moment he whispered, “I couldn’t save Stacy.”

  Millie inched closer, propelled by frustration and temper. “You’re not invincible, Jake. What happened to her was a tragic accident. But she chose to come to the island, even knowing how unstable things were. That decision was on her.” When he started to speak, she held up a hand. “And no, I don’t think you know much about failure. Trust me, I’m a bit of an expert. I bet you haven’t failed at a single thing in your entire life. Because instead you run away when things get too hard. You take the easy way out.”

  “Easy way?” His eyes narrowed. “I put myself through college and medical school on my own. I am...I was a damn good surgeon. I go to places most people couldn’t imagine. You think that’s easy?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t say you aren’t willing to work hard. But I know you’re smart.” She lifted her hand to make air quotes. “Valedictorian of your class.” She was baiting him now, probably unfairly, but she had a feeling this might be the only way to break through his defenses. “I think you used your intelligence to break out of this town, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But you sacrificed your relationships with your brothers in the process. As a girl who grew up without any siblings, I can tell you how much I wanted someone to truly understand what I had to go through as a kid.”

  “I get that.” He dropped his head to the back of the couch, exposing the tanned skin of his neck and throat. Stubble shadowed his jaw, making him look both tired and a little more rugged than she was used to.

  “You might be a brilliant surgeon,” she continued, fighting to keep her voice steady, “but you chose a career path that almost guarantees you won’t form long-term relationships with people. You said yourself that you go wherever you’re needed, your bags are always packed. So it might be challenging and stressful, but you can manage it. Having a daughter is different. A potentially career-ending injury is different.”

  “You think I don’t know that?”

  “I think you aren’t willing to face it. Because for the first time in your life the things that are on the line really matter. If you fail at this, the stakes are off-the-charts high. That’s scary, I know. But not dealing with the fear isn’t going to make it go away, Jake.”

  He moved his foot off the coffee table and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his hands pressing either side of his head. “So now you’re a kid whisperer and an armchair psychiatrist?”

  “I’m actually sitting on the sofa.”

  He lowered one hand, turning to her, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “A comedian as well. Lucky me.”

  “Am I right?”

  He drew in a breath then blew it out. “Even if you are, what am I going to do about it?”

  “We’re going to make a plan.”

  His smile widened. “I thought you weren’t the planning type, Millie.”

  “The plan is for you.” She fluttered her fingers in the air. “I’m a free spirit. That’s how my mother raised me.”

  “Bull.”

  “Excuse me?” She shook her head. “Ask anyone who knows me. I don’t like to be tied down...” She frowned as his mouth quirked. “But not because I’m running away. I like change and movement, being flexible.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “But this isn’t about me.” She pointed a finger at him. “It’s about you. And Brooke. You have to commit to her, Jake.”

  “I brought her to Colorado.”

  “That’s an extended trip, not a commitment.”

  * * *

  Jake stared at her for several long moments. Millie had hit the nail on the head with that comment. He’d brought his daughter to Crimson because he’d made a promise to a dying woman, not because he suddenly had fantastic parental instincts. In the back of Jake’s mind, he still believed Brooke would be better off with her grandparents. He could visit when his schedule allowed, maybe plan a few tr
ips around her school schedule once she got old enough.

  He didn’t truly think he had more to give than that.

  “What do you expect me to do?”

  “How long until your injuries heal?”

  “They want me to do physical therapy for another four weeks. By then, the nerves should have healed enough to know whether there’s permanent damage.” He paused then added, “Enough impairment to end a career anyway.”

  “Your decision about being a full-time father to Brooke shouldn’t be based on whether or not you can perform surgery. She isn’t a second-string priority.”

  “You think I don’t know that, Millie?”

  Her voice softened. “You need to give being a parent a real shot. Commit to trying, to making it work. If not and you let someone else raise her, as wonderful as Brooke’s grandparents might be, you’ll always wonder if you could have done more.”

  “I have been giving this a real shot.” He gestured to the row of toys Millie had organized earlier along the far wall of the family room. “I have twenty-gazillion pounds of pink plastic cluttering a rental house in a town I never expected to see again. Doesn’t that count as a real try?”

  “Halloween.”

  “What about Halloween?”

  “I want you to promise you’ll stay with Brooke until then. It gives you over two full months together. You need to stay, no matter what you hear about your injuries. Even if her grandparents arrive and try to convince you that she’d be better off with them.”

  He gave a harsh laugh. “It’s like you know Stacy’s parents already.”

  “I know that all of you have been through something tragic.” She shifted closer and placed her fingers on his wrist. “I also know that the relationship you have with your daughter will affect her for the rest of her life.”

  He lost himself for a moment in her bright eyes. Once again, this tiny pixie of a woman made him want to try to be the kind of man he wasn’t sure existed inside him. “No pressure.”

  “I know you’re scared to fail her.”

  He stared at her fingers on his arm, her nails brightly colored against his skin. Slowly, he lifted her fingers, lining up his hand with hers, palm to palm. Her fingers barely came past his knuckles—that was how tiny her hand was in his. “Did your father fail you, Millie?” he asked.

  He felt her hand stiffen against his, and he laced their fingers together before she could pull away. “My father is an example of the point I’m trying to make. You can’t fail if you don’t try.” Her eyes clouded with sadness. “It will be so much worse for Brooke if she grows up believing she wasn’t worth the effort. That I know for sure.”

  An ache sliced through him for the little girl Millie used to be, the one who never believed she was worthy of her father’s attention. He might be afraid, but Jake would never give that burden to his daughter. He lifted his other hand and traced the line of her jaw with two fingers. His hand might go numb at regular intervals and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to perform another surgery, but at this moment the feel of Millie’s soft skin under the tips of his fingers seemed like all he needed in the world.

  Her eyes fell closed and it felt like an invitation. He leaned closer and brushed his mouth across hers, savoring her softness as her breath mingled with his. “So sweet,” he murmured, moving his hand to the back of her neck to bring her nearer to him.

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave the tiniest moan in the back of her throat. The sound brought parts of his body to full attention. Never had Jake been so affected by a woman. He was all for mutual pleasure, but the innate need thundering through his veins was something wholly new for him. It felt as though everything about Millie Spencer was made to entice him, from the way she smelled like springtime flowers to the softness of her skin.

  She was an intoxicating mix of strength and vulnerability wrapped up in a package of feminine grace. “Your father was an idiot,” he whispered against her mouth. “You’re worth the effort, Millie. This is worth it all.”

  He’d meant the words as a compliment, but she suddenly jumped to her feet, tugging at the hem of her pajama top. “We can’t do this,” she said, a look of panic in her eyes. “You can’t do this, Jake.”

  He stood and reached for her but she backed away. “It was a kiss, Millie. That’s all. I don’t think I was the only one who was enjoying it, either.”

  She shook her head, looking miserable. “I’m not that kind of woman.”

  “What kind of woman?” He felt his temper kick in. What the hell was she talking about?

  “The kind that... You can’t... We can’t...” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I work for you, Jake. That’s all.”

  “And you think I’m assuming this is a perk of paying you. That you have to watch my kid and then service me when she goes to bed. Is that what you think of me, Millie?”

  “No. I didn’t mean—”

  “Forget it.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “The kiss never happened. It wasn’t part of the bargain. I get it. No matter what happens with my recovery, I’m here until Halloween. I’m going all-in with Brooke although I still highly doubt I’m her best bet.” That I’m anyone’s best bet, he thought to himself. “But I’m going to try. If I fail, then at least I gave it a shot. That’s what you want, right?”

  She nodded, pulling on her lower lip with her teeth. She didn’t look at him, though. One damned kiss and she couldn’t even make eye contact.

  “You got your way. Congratulations.” He stepped around her. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Chapter Seven

  Millie had no idea what she was doing. She lay in bed the next morning replaying the events of the previous night over in her head. Jake had kissed her. She’d wanted him to; there was no doubt about it. The minute his mouth had touched hers, her whole body came to life. His claim that she’d “enjoyed” it was an understatement, to say the least. The kiss had tilted her world on its axis and she wasn’t sure she could right it again.

  But she had to try. She was going to deny her attraction to Jake Travers no matter what. Not only because she worked for him, but to prove she could deny it. Millie was determined not to be like her mother, who’d turned every interaction she had with men into something calculating. As much as her mom was always the fun, good-time girl, she also used her sexuality as a weapon to manipulate men. It had slowly chipped away at her self-worth in the process.

  Millie would not be that person. She was going to stand on her own two feet, even when the ground beneath her was mucky and unstable.

  With that thought spurring her on, she got dressed, then headed to the kitchen to get started on the French toast before Brooke woke up. To her surprise, Jake was already standing at the stove, his daughter setting plates and forks at the table.

  “Good morning,” she said as her feet touched the tile. “You two are up early.”

  “Daddy’s making quesadillas,” Brooke sang out. “He can cook, Millie. And not just delivery pizza.”

  “Quesadillas?” She glanced at Jake and willed the color to stop creeping up her cheeks.

  “Breakfast quesadillas,” he clarified. “Have a seat, ladies. They’re almost ready.”

  She sat in the chair Brooke held out for her but wanted to escape back into her bedroom. As much as the quiet intimacy of last night had shaken her, watching Jake in all his domestic glory was just as unsettling. He wore another pair of loose athletic shorts and a faded University of Colorado T-shirt that stretched across the muscles of his back and shoulders. His hair was tousled from sleep and a shadow of stubble covered his jaw.

  Why was it so damned appealing to watch a man in the kitchen? Or maybe she was just over her head with this particular man.

  She took a quick sip of her juice as he came to the table, unable to make eye
contact with him for fear he’d be able to read in her eyes the lie that she’d told him last night. Her brain might want to keep their relationship professional, but her body had ideas of its own.

  He slid a few sections of quesadilla from the pan to her plate and she watched as he did the same for Brooke, unable to look away from the movement of his hands. Maybe she should have started the day with a cold shower.

  There was a bowl with sliced fruit in the middle of the table, so she distracted herself by spooning some out for each of them.

  “Coffee?” Jake asked, his voice tinged with humor.

  She glanced up at him then and he raised his brows, as if he could read every inappropriate thought in her mind. “Thanks,” she muttered as he filled her cup.

  “The breakfast-dillas are yum-mo,” Brooke said as she took another big bite. She reached out to pat Millie’s arm. “We can make Frenchy toast tomorrow, right?”

  Jake folded himself into the chair next to Brooke. “Did you say French toes?” He leaned closer to his daughter. “I can’t eat French toes. What if the feet weren’t washed first?” He mock shuddered and Brooke dissolved into a fit of giggles.

  “Daddy, you’re so silly.” She licked at the cheese dripping from her quesadilla. “But you make good breakfast.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” he answered then smiled at Millie. “What do you think?”

  She could read the challenge in his gaze. “An A for effort,” she admitted then took a small bite of one wedge. It was a perfect combination of egg and cheese with the tortilla grilled to a crispy golden brown. “It’s actually pretty good. Where did you learn to make these?”

  “I did a stint in a little village in southern Mexico called Chiapas. I learned to get creative with eggs and tortillas.”

  “I thought you didn’t cook.”

  He shrugged. “My skills are limited, but I’m trying.”

  Suddenly his gaze wasn’t teasing or challenging. It was hopeful and open and almost knocked Millie to the floor. She realized that when Jake Travers really tried at something, there was probably very little he couldn’t accomplish. Like making her heart open to him.