Autumn Wish

by Netzel, Stacey Joy

  “Right, because when you asked me to dinner I knew a tree was going to fall on my house last night.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head in disgust. “Call Tanya. Apologize to her. I’m sure you two will be very happy together.”

  His gaze narrowed as it shifted past her shoulder, then back to her face. “It’s obvious to everyone what you’re doing here, Nicole. What he’s doing. But what happens if the kid goes away? She’s not his, so what happens to your happy little family life then?”

  The hard glint in his eyes sent a shiver along her spine. She couldn’t deny she’d become attached to Ella, but that wasn’t her sole interest in being with Sam. Was it?

  A hand settled at the small of her back, and Sam stepped up beside her. Her pulse jumped to attention at the tension radiating from the six foot wall of muscle at her side. The confrontational atmosphere brought Sam’s past arrest record slamming to the forefront, and she cast him a quick, nervous glance.

  He’s not worth the trouble, she wanted to say, but his attention lasered on Joe.

  “My family is no concern of yours, so don’t you even dare speak about my niece.” Warm fingers flexed against her back, then relaxed. “Nik’s made her feelings clear, so now it’s time for you to go.”

  Joe’s gaze and bravado had faltered while Sam’s icy-calm words cut through the thick air. He backed away, then swung around to stride to his car. The Corvette roared to life, then shot down the street.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Those fingers flexed again, then Sam’s protective touch fell away as he stepped back. “Yep.”

  She turned around, her gaze darting to the others who’d made an appearance of going back to work even as they cast her and Sam curious glances. Finally, she forced her attention to his golden gaze and kept her voice low. “I’m sorry if I—”

  He gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. “You don’t have to explain. The guest room is yours. As long as you need it.”

  “You’re not upset with me for that?”

  “No.”

  He hefted another sheet of plywood from the truck and followed Eric and Mark back up the ladder to cover the last section of the roof. Though he said he wasn’t upset, he didn’t seem happy, either. Not sure what to make of his mood, she started picking up other tools around the yard as the sun began to set. Man, things were just going from bad to worse.

  Once she set the last of Eric’s tools in the back of his truck, Marissa closed the tailgate. “You sure about this?” she asked in a low undertone. “Staying with Sam, I mean. Because we’ll make room for you if you’d like.”

  Her family would flip if they knew what she’d learned about Sam last night. But having gotten to know him first, seeing him care for Ella with such loving tenderness, and the fact that he’d told her about his past on his own, she didn’t fear him. He’d been a kid, and kids made stupid mistakes that reliable, grown up men knew how to control.

  Nikki avoided her sister’s gaze as she joked, “You’re the one who told me to have some fun with my hunky new neighbor.”

  “This is completely different, and you know it. Ella complicates everything.”

  “I know.”

  “What about what Joe said?”

  “No,” she said with another roll of her eyes. “We are not sleeping together.”

  “I meant about why you’re doing this. Because for once, Joe’s right—Sam’s sister could come back at any time. Having a no-strings fling with him is one thing, but do you want a family so bad that you’re jumping into this now without considering the consequences?”

  She didn’t have an answer for that. Tears stung her eyes.

  “Right guy, right reason, Nikki. They go hand in hand.”

  When she was confident she could face her sister without looking like she was about to cry, she said, “I like Sam, and yes, I already love Ella. But right now I’m still dealing with the fact that my house is half demolished. Staying with Sam and watching the kids at his place is a convenience, nothing more.”

  Chapter 17

  Sam parked his truck in the garage, then grabbed an armload of firewood on his way inside. After the past two weeks of normal September temperatures, it appeared fall was gearing up for October in a couple days with another swing toward the low end of the thermometer. Frost was in the forecast, and a fire this evening would help take the chill out of the air without having to run the furnace.

  Two steps inside, he paused for his now habitual appreciative inhale. Except he was home too early for Nikki to have started dinner. The absence of succulent aromas made his stomach grumble with disappointment as he carried the wood through the quiet house to the fireplace.

  The unusual quiet struck him as he straightened. He hadn’t heard his house this silent since the day Nikki had knocked on his door with Ella in her arms. Not to mention, at three o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday, shouldn’t Jeremy and Adam still be here?

  He started up the stairs. “Nik? You home?”

  No answer came back, and he verified the house was empty as he made his way past the guest bedroom and the nursery, to his own room to shower and change. On the days he came home at his regular time, the boys were gone by then, and Nikki was usually downstairs with Ella. She’d been fixing dinner each night so he could eat and go work on her place afterward. Anything he completed ahead of time would save her money once the contractors started next week.

  On his way back downstairs, he thought about what to do for dinner. As torturous as it was to have her around and not touch, he’d gotten used to Nikki’s home-cooked meals. Besides the fact they were damn good, he enjoyed the two of them sitting down with Ella in her highchair, eating together, talking about their days, laughing at silly things. He loved the friendship they’d developed. Yet, along with that closeness, each day his attraction simmered closer and closer to a full boil.

  The other evening, she’d met him on the porch, Ella in her arms, and the sight had taken his breath away. What a vision to come home to. He couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of her beauty or Ella’s angelic, now one-tooth grin. It was like that country song—on his front porch looking in was a damn good place to be.

  Unfortunately, one particular statement echoed frequently in his head. “Staying with Sam is a convenience, nothing more.”

  Yeah. He’d walked up on the tail end of a conversation he knew she probably never meant for him to hear, but it was probably best he had, otherwise he might have read way too much into her move into his house after ending things with her ex.

  Every once in a while, when the brush of her hand left his skin tingling, or if they bumped into each other at the kitchen sink, he wondered if she felt the magnetic pull, too. In his mind, the futility of resistance became more clear each day.

  Except she pulled away too quickly, as if trying to avoid him, or maybe not give him the wrong idea after the previous explosive kisses they’d shared. A small part of him couldn’t help but think it might have something to do with their conversation about his less than idyllic past the night of the storm. Since then, she hadn’t given any overt indication she was interested in him beyond the friendship they’d built. Reminding himself he was nothing more than a convenience made it possible to keep his hands to himself day after day when her vanilla and almond scent lured him too close for his own good.

  At the bottom of the stairs, his gaze swept past the window next to the door, then backtracked. Curtains. When had he gotten curtains? He swiveled his head around the room and noted other changes.

  Plants. The first couple nights after Nikki had moved in had been during the abnormally cold days mid-month, so she’d brought over her house plants to keep them healthy. A blanket was spread across the back of his recliner. Last week he’d sat on the couch about midnight to take off his boots, and woke up a few hours later with that soft blanket draped over him.

  Along with the curtains, candles, and baby stuff around the living room, the plants and blanket added a warm
touch that made his house look more like a home.

  It was something he’d never really had, but immediately knew he never wanted to lose. Not just the improvements in the house, but in his life. He was setting down roots for the first time ever and could imagine his future in this town with Ella.

  With Nikki.

  Before the thought could solidify enough to combat the leap of his pulse, his doorbell chimed.

  He strode over and opened the door to find a police officer about his own age standing on his front porch. The officer’s squad car was parked across the street, right behind a silver four-door he hadn’t noticed when he came home. Considering his late-teen dealings with law enforcement had never been pleasant, the sight of the man, and the brunette woman next to him dressed in a business suit, was not a welcome one. She was probably in her mid-thirties and projected a confident, professional air.

  The woman spoke first. “Are you Samuel Mallin?”

  “I am.” He flicked a glance at the officer’s badge. “Is there something wrong?”

  The moment he voiced the question, Nikki’s absence rushed to the forefront. Had something happened to her and Ella? His throat seized at the possibility.

  “I’m Emma Winston, and I’m a case worker for Child Protective Services. May we come in?”

  He gripped the edge of the door as his gaze bounced from her extended hand, to her face, to the cop’s. “What happened? Is Ella okay? Did something happen to Nikki?”

  The officer’s eyes narrowed at his rapid fire questions. “As far as we know, everything is fine.”

  Ms. Winston lowered her arm back to the strap of her bag. “Mr. Mallin, I’m here to speak with you about the child that has been left in your care.”

  As her words registered, suspicion shot his attention back to the cop. “Why? And why are you here?”

  “Officer Parker is here at my request. For security reasons.”

  Sam’s stomach dropped, and he swallowed hard. “Security for what?”

  Officer Parker rested his hand on his unbuttoned sidearm. “This is better discussed inside.”

  Memories from what seemed another lifetime flashed in his mind. His gut instincts shouted not to let them in, but with Ella involved, he figured he didn’t have the luxury of telling them to go to hell. He raked a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped aside with reluctance.

  The case worker nodded on her way past. “Thank you.”

  Sam closed the door behind the cop, motioning them both to the couch. After a cursory glance around, the woman sat down and pulled a thin blue file from her briefcase. Parker strolled over to the playpen set up along the wall. His gaze combed every inch of the living room and whatever was visible of the kitchen through the island window.

  “Please, have a seat, Mr. Mallin.”

  Ms. Winston’s polite request drew his attention back to her, but he remained standing, arms crossed over his chest. “Not until you explain what this is all about.”

  She cast a questioning glance toward the officer, who then came over to sit with her on the couch. When the guy raised his eyebrows in silent challenge, Sam deigned to sit on the edge of his recliner.

  “Thank you,” she repeated. “We have been informed you are in custody of a child for whom you do not hold legal custody of.”

  His spine stiffened.

  “Can you confirm—”

  “Hold on,” he interrupted. “Who the hell informed you of that?”

  “That information is confidential,” Parker stated.

  There weren’t a whole lot of people who knew the story. Nikki. Her family. His boss and co-workers. But it didn’t make sense that any of them would report him to Child Protective Services. Especially not Nikki after her reaction to his thoughtless comment that very first night. Eric Riley and the others had respected her choice to move into his guestroom. Sure, they’d made a couple unannounced visits, but had left seemingly reassured everything was fine. They had no reason to report his care of Ella.

  “Making sure the child’s best interests are preserved is what is important here,” Ms. Winston added. “Now, are you caring for an infant who is not your biological child?”

  “I’m not her father, but she’s family. Ella is my niece. I have a letter from my sister granting me custody.”

  “I’ll need to see that.”

  Parker shadowed him while he retrieved the letter from a drawer in his kitchen and handed it to the case worker. His nerves frayed as he sat while the woman read the document. His teeth started to ache, and he unclenched his jaw.

  “An Affidavit of Guardianship takes care of the custody question, and normally family members caring for children isn’t something CPS would become involved with, but that is not the only reason I’m here.” Ms. Winston shifted the papers in her lap and looked up. “Concern was raised that you are too involved in your personal life, and Ella may not be receiving adequate care while you’re busy with...other things.”

  “Other things like...?” Okay, he had been working on Nikki’s house, but she’d watched Ella for every minute. He was one hundred percent positive she went above and beyond the definition of adequate care.

  “To avoid being crude, why don’t we call it dating.”

  Sam drew back in amazement. She meant sex. “Are you kidding me?”

  She met his gaze and held firm. “No. I am not kidding you. Child neglect is something we take very seriously, Mr. Mallin.”

  “Neglect?” White hot anger flashed from his toes to the tips of his fingers. Icy fear doused the flame when the full implication of the cop’s presence registered. Were they going to take Ella away from him? Could they, based on a completely false accusation?

  When he shot to his feet, Parker straightened from where he’d leaned against the side of the couch. “Mr. Mallin, I’m going to have to ask you to sit down.”

  “Wherever you got your information from, it’s dead wrong.” He switched his glare from the cop to the woman. “Since my sister left Ella with me, I’ve changed my entire life to make sure she’s well taken care of.”

  She eyed the empty playpen. “Where is she now?”

  The question shot a jolt of adrenaline straight to his heart. “With the babysitter.” Not that he actually knew where they were. Of all nights, why wasn’t Nik home tonight?

  “And who is your babysitter?”

  “Nikki Rowen. She worked at a daycare until she lost her job. She’s more than qualified.”

  Officer Parker began to nod, but the case worker’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Why did—”

  The chime of the doorbell drowned out her words and made him flinch. His jaw clenched as he glanced toward the door. Now who the hell was here?

  “Would that be her with the baby?” Ms. Winston inquired.

  No. Nikki wouldn’t use the doorbell when he’d given her a key. Wary of more unexpected visitors, Sam crossed the floor and glanced out the window.

  Sonofabitch.

  “Excuse me a minute,” he muttered over his shoulder before opening the door and slipping out onto the porch to face one of the neighbor women who’d brought him pie that first week.

  “Hi, Sam. You never called, so here I am—”

  Her voice rang in his ears as if she’d shouted through a bullhorn. He quickly pulled the door shut.

  “—for my dish.”

  “I’m sorry, but now is not a good time.” Worst frickin’ time ever. “If you stop by tomorrow, I’ll be happy to give you the dish back.”

  Long eyelashes as dark as her black hair batted over a pair of pretty brown eyes. Shit—he couldn’t even remember her name. All he knew was she wasn’t one of the married ones.

  “Did you enjoy the pie?”

  “Sure.” He reached for the door handle, hoping she’d get the hint. “Who doesn’t love cherry pie?”

  She stuck her lip out in a pout. “It was apple.”

  “Apple’s good, too,” he assured her. “Listen, ah...?”
>
  “Missy.”

  “Right. Missy. Again, I’m sorry, but I really can’t talk right now.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  He nodded just to get rid of her, fighting the urge to physically guide her off his front porch. She smiled and started down the stairs as he opened the door to step back inside.

  Missy spun around and called out, “See you tomorrow, Sam.”

  With his jaw clamped tight, he shut the door and turned to face the two officials watching and listening from his couch.

  “Date?” Emma Winston’s pinched eyebrows matched her disapproving voice.

  “No,” he ground out. “She’s a neighbor who brought me a pie when I first moved in. That’s only the second time we’ve met. She just wanted her dish back.”

  She scribbled on her notepad as he approached the recliner again. He thought he saw Parker’s mouth twitch, but when he shifted his gaze, the cop was as solemn as ever. Good, because he didn’t find a damn thing funny about the whole frickin’ thing.

  “And how many other women are in Ella’s life?”

  He narrowed his gaze at the brunette. “You know, I don’t appreciate you coming into my house with all these accusations based on what some person who obviously doesn’t even know me told you.”

  “Mr. Mallin, surely you can understand we only have your niece’s best interests at heart. It’s unfortunate her mother is not around, but exposing a child to a revolving door of strange women does not provide for a stable home life.”

  The sound of the back door forestalled the torrent of words that flew to the tip of his tongue. Nikki entered the kitchen, Ella perched on one hip, the stroller dragging behind. She glanced toward the living room and a big, welcoming smile lit up her face as she brushed her windblown blond hair from her eyes.

  “Hey, you’re home early.”

  The case worker’s words echoed in his head. Best interests of the child. Stable home life. Him by himself, added to the rap sheet the woman must’ve seen if she’d requested security for this visit, probably wouldn’t measure up in her prim, judgmental opinion.