by Nikki Duncan
“We are. I was just thinking it would be fun to invite Vic.”
The gripping guilt tightened along with something he’d never experienced. Jealousy.
The idea of sharing Vic with his daughter made him jealous while also making him want things he couldn’t, shouldn’t want. He wanted to allow Sophie to invite Vic to family night, he liked the mental image of her always being there, but at the same time he saw the drawbacks.
Sophie would innocently try to turn a one-time visit to family night into a regular thing. Then before long she would be asking him why Vic couldn’t be her new mom, which was an impossible question to answer.
And damn it, he selfishly wanted Vic all to himself. He wouldn’t be able to be near her and not touch her. One touch would lead to another and another until he was carrying her to his bed. That would certainly get Sophie to dreaming about things he couldn’t give her.
His feelings for Vic were shifting into something more intimate. Something that had him wishing he could take a chance at forever. The swelling desire to try for those things was the very thing that drove his need to pull back.
Not even with Vic could he commit to forever.
Especially not with Vic.
“I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”
“Why? We’ve done things together before.”
“We have.” A logical argument wasn’t coming to him, and he hated because I said so. “Maybe I just want to be selfish with you for a little longer.”
“What?”
He smiled down at her, filled with love more profound than he’d thought himself capable of when he found out in high school he was going to be a dad. “A time is going to come when you won’t want to hang out with me for family night. Until it does, I want to lock away as many memories as possible.”
“But who are you going to do family night with when I’m not with you?”
“I guess it will become friends’ night.”
Sophie dropped her head and shook it. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone, Dad. You should find the right partner who would ease some of the burden you carry. Someone to be there for you when you get off work at night.”
Byron had said the same thing the first night he’d kissed Vic. Byron, who had a habit of playing matchmaker. Byron, who had promised he hadn’t set his sights on him. But with Sophie spouting the same sentiments, Hauk wasn’t so sure.
“Don’t worry about me, Sophie. I’ll be fine.”
“I want you to be happy though.”
Hauk pulled her to a stop across the street from the school. He knelt down to face her more directly. “Do you think I’m unhappy?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” She waved off a friend shouting for her. “I just think you could be happier with…”
“With Vic?”
“Why not? You love her.”
“I do, but as a friend. I couldn’t…” Even as he tried to explain it to Sophie, he wasn’t buying it himself. He wasn’t so sure his feelings for Vic weren’t developing into something a little deeper. Something that if he followed their path would put her in danger.
“Do you lock yourself off because of your past?”
“What?” What had she heard? He’d thought for sure only the adults talked about his past losses.
“Every time you fall in love with a woman she dies. Is that why you don’t date? Why you won’t invite Vic over? Are you worried she’ll get hurt?”
Yes. Regardless how mature she was or that she had a knack for understanding complicated situations, Hauk couldn’t be that honest with his daughter. Especially on the sidewalk in town.
“Go to school. We’ll talk tonight.”
“Without Vic around.” Sadness ran through her tone and nearly broke his heart.
“Yes.” Hopefully the space of the day would give him time to find the perfect answers for her.
“Okay.” She kissed his cheek and turned toward school. Two steps away, she turned back. “Daddy, do you think…” She hesitated for a second with her lower lip pinched between her teeth. “Do you think I will have the same problem one day? Do you think anyone I fall in love with will die?”
A wash of tears swamped him. They filled his eyes and built up until his nose and throat burned. He should have known she would wonder that. That she would ask the question and expect a straightforward answer.
“Honey.” Going to her and hugging her, he tried to assure her. “Your life will be whatever you want it to be. And I seriously hope it will be without more losses.”
She nodded once and kissed him again. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, Sophie.”
He swiped a tear away as he watched her head to school. His hope to shield her from the same worries he lived with had vanished with a simple question. That she’d called him Daddy instead of Dad made it worse. She only did that in moments of insecurity or when she was sick.
Heading back to the bar for his truck, needing to go work on the stage, he thought about what he might say to explain his bad luck in relationships. He wasn’t sure he could make her understand without shattering her fairytale ideals of happily ever after.
Deciding to detour for more coffee, Hauk headed toward the local coffee house. He didn’t go often, but a great thing about small towns was that they knew him. As soon as he walked in the door they would pull their biggest to-go cup and fill it with black coffee.
The bell jingled over the door. The barista called out, “Good morning, Hauk. We’ll get your coffee.”
Both the bell and the barista were just a little too cheerful on another morning after another night when he hadn’t gotten any sleep. Sighing at the memory, he decided he wouldn’t complain about the lack of shuteye since he’d had a great night. It hadn’t been great enough to counteract the morning though.
“You’re lookin’ mighty…something this morning.” Byron laid his newspaper on the table before him. “What’s eatin’ you?”
His gaze suggested he knew something when Hauk knew well he couldn’t possibly. He wouldn’t, either. Careful to appear casual, Hauk paid for his coffee before taking the seat across from Byron.
“Just thinking about something Sophie said.”
“Hmph. Looked more like a man-in-love kind of smile to me.”
“Sorry. I don’t fall in love.” The barista brought his coffee to him. He winked at her, knowing she liked to flirt as much as he knew she was harmless because she would go home to the husband she lived and breathed for. “Except maybe with women who greet me in the morning with coffee.”
“How’s a woman supposed to do that for you if you don’t let her in your life?”
He could answer Byron’s challenge directly. Evasions, particularly where the old man was concerned, were more fun. And often safer for mental peace. “Maybe if she found a way, she would prove she deserved my love.”
“You telling me Vic’s never brought you coffee?”
“I can honestly say she hasn’t.” She’d brought him to it. The coffee had paled in comparison to the rest of the greeting. His chest and skin tightened with tingling warmth as he thought of that morning. If anyone could make him fall in love, it would be Vic.
“You’ve convinced yourself you’re fatal to any woman who loves you.” Byron lowered his head, barely looking at Hauk as he straightened the folds of his paper. “You need to let it go before your Sophie starts thinking she’s the same way.”
Too late. As soon as he thought it, Hauk noticed Byron’s evasive body language. The manipulator was working him, and damn if he hadn’t enlisted Sophie. Heat suffused Hauk’s gut and radiated through his chest. No doubt his skin was turning red as he fought back the urge to pummel the old meddler.
It was on the tip of his tongue to lay into Byron, to verbally strip his hide for planting such ideas in Sophie’s head, but damn if he’d let the meddling bastard know he’d scored that point.
Instead, he ungritted his teeth enough to speak without a snarl and stuck to the path
they’d already started down. “The deaths of the two women I’ve loved prove you wrong.”
First had been his wife, dying in a boating accident as she ran away from him, rather than from the effort of being a mom to a daughter she’d never really wanted. Second had been a woman he’d almost married. She’d died from what should have been a minor fall while rock climbing. She hadn’t been more than a story off the ground.
“Where do you think this darkness you draw came from?” Byron challenged. Normally Hauk would have brushed him off, but he wasn’t feeling as tolerant of the man’s scheming. Not with the ideas he’d give Sophie. “Your parents have been married from the beginnin’ and neither of them has kicked it tragically.”
“An argument I’ve heard before.” From my parents. “And one I don’t have time to have again right now if I’m going to get that stage built and painted.” Hauk grabbed his coffee and stood. “I appreciate the concern about my well-being, Byron, but do yourself a favor and pick someone more open to hook up.”
With his hand wrapped around the handle of the door, Hauk froze. Anger nagged him until he couldn’t let it go that Byron had planted that thought in Sophie’s mind. She might be using it to play him, and he would talk to her about that, but she shouldn’t have been used that way.
“Do yourself another favor, Byron.”
“Yes?”
“Avoid me and my daughter for a while.” Ignoring the stunned heads turning his way, Hauk headed to his truck, determined to take his frustrations out on wood.
Chapter Seven
Eager to see Hauk, to sneak another kiss and maybe more, Vic strolled down the cobbled streets of town, heading for the oversized, gazebo-like stage Hauk was building. At first, the planning committee had wanted it to be a regular stage that would be taken down and stored. Then, when they’d started planning it all out, they decided it would be better and more beneficial throughout the year if they instead replaced the small gazebo in downtown. Once Hauk and a team of guys had gotten the big part of the job done, Hauk took over the finish-out work while the other men went to work on the other booths.
Last time she’d gone by, it had looked like Hauk was down to the railing work and paint. He told everyone he would get it done on time, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use an extra set of hands for a while. The man needed to learn he didn’t have to do everything himself. He didn’t have to be everyone else’s go-to man while putting his own wants aside.
She was walking past Dr. Dani’s office when a long and low whistle captured her attention. “You look almost edible this morning, Vic.”
“You looking to have your wife kick your ass?” Turning, she met Braydon’s wicked grin. “Flirting with other women.” She shook a finger at him. “For shame.”
“She knows she gets all the good stuff.” He winked, his face lighting up as he talked about Dani. He’d barely recognized their schoolmate when he’d come home for their ten-year reunion, but that had been part of Dani’s wicked plan. Now, the man was mush where she was concerned. He would give her and the baby she carried the world if he could. “Where you going all dressed down?”
Vic glanced down at her cutoff overalls. They fit better across the hips than the top, so the bib draped low over her Women who behave rarely make history tank. Maybe she’d cut them off a little short, but she wanted to make sure Hauk was thinking about what he was missing if he decided to call an end to what she didn’t want to think of as an affair.
“I’m helping Hauk paint the stage.”
Braydon laughed the loud and rambunctious laugh she’d always loved listening to. He’d always been able to cheer people up, and had been as generous with his spirit since returning home and falling for Dani as he’d been in school. “Sure you are.”
She cocked a hip and crossed her arms. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Nope.” He started walking, leaving her little choice but to go with or have him win the last word. “You’re just acting like a woman who’s fallen prey to Grandpa’s matchmaking.”
“No way. He hasn’t even suggested a man for me.” He’d started to, but she’d cut him off because she’d already had a taste of the man she wanted, and there was no way that Byron could’ve known how she felt. Even as she made the claim—spoken and unspoken—she began to wonder. The hair at her temple trembled like it did now when she thought about Hauk. Even apart, the man’s impact on her was undeniable.
“So how’d you get roped into helping Hauk with the stage?”
“Your granddad.”
“And who else is helping?”
“No one today. The men have moved on to other booths.”
“So Grandpa has you and Hauk working together, alone, and you don’t think you’ve been set up?”
“Please. As if Hauk and I didn’t do a lot together before the stage and entertainment.” Though the entertainment side of things was turning out to be deliciously amusing, if a little draining in the sleep department.
“You’re right.” Braydon kissed her temple at a street corner. His smile told her he understood her argument even if he didn’t agree. “Nothing about that sounds like a setup.”
“Thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek before waving her fingers toward the docks. “Have a good day on the boat.”
“I will.” He grinned. “I’m mapping the route for the boat races today.”
Nearing the stage where the sounds of hard rock and a nail gun ripped through the air, Vic wondered if Braydon had been right. Did he really think his granddad had orchestrated whatever was going on with her and Hauk? How could he have when they’d kissed before he ever called? And how could he have seen a spark between them when no one else had?
As Hauk came into view, it suddenly didn’t matter if she had been manipulated. Dressed in ass-hugging jeans and a biceps-molding T-shirt, his arms flexing as he harnessed the power of the air compressor, he oozed strength. His strength didn’t end at the physical.
With her earlier wish to give Hauk all the things he wanted slipping into her mind, Vic ran back to Braydon, catching him just as he was putting his dingy in the water to row out to his sailboat. After recovering her breath and securing the first part of her plan, she headed back to Hauk and the stage, making a few phone calls on the way.
With a smile and a new determination, she closed the distance between her and Hauk. When he set the nail gun down to place another slat of wood, she moved in to flatten her hand on his back. He jumped and spun around with fury raging in his eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“I came to help you get some of the painting done. Should I have brought you another mug of coffee?” She smiled, certain that coffee wasn’t a cure for whatever had him pissed. More likely he was worried someone had seen them. Or… “Did something happen to upset Sophie?”
He froze. Bronze-statue stiff and unblinking. When he spoke, it was through clenched teeth with no movement in his jaw. “What do you know about that?”
“Nothing.” Worry and anger of her own congealed into a ball of acid in her gut. “I just know Sophie is your biggest button. Who upset her?”
“No one.” He shook his head and turned away. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Vic watched him try and fail to shrug it off, but she knew him well enough to know it did matter and he wasn’t ready to talk. If she pushed, he would lash out worse than he already had and the verbal fallout wouldn’t end with her.
She would pretend things were normal until he was ready to talk. And until he told her to go away, she was going to help him. Setting aside her plans for a blatant and fun flirtation in the middle of town, she circled behind him to pick up a can of paint, the stirrer, the can opener for the lid and a paint brush.
“Where would you like me to start?”
“I can get this done.” Rage stiffened his voice, but he tempered it. “You don’t need to take time from the salon to help.”
“That is the beautiful thing about this town. People are always w
illing to help.”
Bending at the waist, making sure he had a prime view of her legs, she opened the paint and began stirring it. Okay, so she wasn’t entirely shelving the idea of fun flirtations.
“Besides, the sooner you get this done, the sooner you will have time to create the haunted decorations you want to do for the pub.” Pointing to a nearby ladder, she smiled. “Why don’t you stand that up for me? I’ll take the top while you nail the bottom.”
His jaw dropped. She smiled. She couldn’t have planned the double meaning any better. Or the effect it so clearly had on him, judging by the bulge in his pants. A little more and the edges of his anger would smooth out.
“Really, Vic. Please go to your salon.” He stretched out the please so he sounded like he was seriously begging, but he grabbed the ladder and gripped the edges until his knuckles whitened. “The haunted pub isn’t going to happen this year.”
“You put that off every year because you do too much for everyone else. I love how you are so willing to help out.” She shook her head. “It’s a sexy quality of yours, but the time has come for you to get some relief.”
Again his mouth gaped. She may not have planned the first entendre, but that last one had just been too fun to skip. “Set up the ladder so we can get this done. Then maybe we can sneak a break for a private nailing.”
He snapped the ladder open and scowled. “Stop talking like that.”
She stepped close enough that her body almost brushed his. His warmth floated around her like a familiar web of safety she didn’t want to escape. “Because you like it?”
“Yes. Too much.”
“I can’t agree with that last part, and I am not so sure I can stop.” She pushed up on her toes, stretching farther than she had to when she wore her heels, and kissed the corner of his mouth. If anyone saw them, they would see it as a quick peck on the cheek—something they had done many times before.