Karen Templeton – A Gift for All Seasons (страница 8)

“So what do you think?”

Patrick’s low voice behind her nearly made her piddle her pants. She turned, wondering what it was about the half light that turned dangerous into downright delicious. She didn’t even see the scars anymore—well, she saw them, sure, but she also saw past them. More to the point, she felt him. His presence or aura or whatever the heck he exuded, like a bonfire threatening to consume her.

This was beyond bad, wasn’t it?

“I love it,” she finally got out, fingering her rings as she ripped her gaze from his mouth. “Y’all got a lot accomplished in such a short time.”

“There’s bad weather forecast for the weekend. I was trying to beat it.”

Hmm. Sounded friendly enough, but—she glanced back—no smile, no light in the eyes, nothing. Was it her, or was she the only one here being attacked by the lust demons? Nasty wee beasties. Then again, given the hard time she was having catching a breath, maybe not so wee—

“Daddy? Where are you?”

“Out front, baby.”

A moment later, little footsteps pounded on the porch, down the steps, curls bouncing as a visual cacophony of stripes and florals and a half-dozen colors catapulted into her father’s arms, sending the demons scattering to the four winds.

Although the fire … not so much. True, the warmth shifted north to spread through April’s chest, to the base of her throat. But the ache of seeing him hold his little girl consumed her every bit as much as what, moments before, had produced some very imprudent thoughts. Then Patrick gave April a look over his daughter’s head, not of fear, exactly, but certainly wariness.

Don’t take it as a challenge, don’t—

Mel rushed outside, hair a fright, hoodie unzipped, jeans hugging curves April could only dream of, whooshing out a breath when she saw Lilianna in her father’s arms.

“You little scamp,” her cousin mildly scolded over the little girl’s giggles, and April thought, Huh? “You got away from me! Man, I’d forgotten how slippery little kids can be! April!” A grin spread across Mel’s face. “You’re back! Good! Dinner’s almost ready—”

“We’d better be going, then,” Patrick said as a few more Huhs? pinged around in April’s brain.

“The heck you will, I’ve made enough food for half the town. No arguments. Besides, I’m sure Lili wants to taste the cake she helped bake. Wouldn’t you, sweetie?”

Cue vigorous head shake. Big eyes and soft “Uh-huh.” April melting into puddle of goo. Granted, children had been known to get the goo flowing for some time already, but this one …

“Now how could you possibly say no to that?” Mel asked Patrick, and April thought, How, indeed? And, indeed, the big, buff man holding the itty-bitty girl in his big, buff arms made light of things and said in that case, of course they’d stay. But with definite only because it’s not worth the fight undertones.

Undertones which her cousin either didn’t pick up or chose to ignore. April was betting on the latter. “I’ve been experimenting,” Mel said. “Still getting used to the stove. Ryder should be here momentarily—” And yes, at the mention of her fiancé, her cousin went a bit gooey herself. “He’s fetching Quinn from her piano lesson. Well, just don’t stand there. Come on in.”

So everyone trooped through the enlarged entryway leading into the new-and-holy-cow-improved gathering room. “Blythe said she was sorry she couldn’t be here,” Mel went on, oblivious to Patrick’s decided lack of enthusiasm, “she had some kind of ‘emergency’ appointment back in D.C. But she said to let her know if she needs to change anything in your suite.” Then she grinned at Lilianna. “Hey, cutie-patootie, wanna come help set the table?”

“Yeah, sure,” the little girl said, then wriggled out of her daddy’s arms to bounce off after Mel, while Patrick watched her as though worried she’d vanish through a magic portal into an alternate universe. And wasn’t that cute as all get-out? Although, when puberty came calling? She wasn’t sure who to pity more, Lili or Patrick.

Looking away, April felt the house’s warm glow curl around her, the smells from the kitchen bringing tears to her eyes. A lot had gone on inside, as well, during her absence. Serious miracle worker, that Blythe. April couldn’t wait to get photos up on the Rinehart’s new website, although too bad there wasn’t a way to let potential guests experience the aromas, as well. Tears threatened again. If it hadn’t been for Clayton …

“You okay?”

Not alone. Right. April nodded, clearing her throat, trying to ignore the beasties tiptoeing back. Beasties too dense to realize the man didn’t want to be here.

“If you’d told me four years ago,” she said, not looking at him, “that I’d be getting ready to open my own business, that this place would be mine …” She turned, taking in the refinished floors, the warm colors and inviting overstuffed furniture, the framed watercolors Blythe had bought from a local artist. Sigh. “We really can’t predict what life has in store for us, can we?”

Long pause. “We sure as hell can’t.”

Oh, Lord. Speaking of dense. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay.”

She hazarded a glance. Met his gaze. Blushed in places she didn’t normally blush, a sensation simultaneously pleasant and unsettling. “You also don’t have to stay.”

Patrick shoved his hands in his pockets, clearly not realizing what that did to the front of his jeans. “There’s a kid in your kitchen who might beg to differ. Not to mention your cousin.” Another pause. “And whatever your cousin’s making is bound to be better than packaged mac and cheese.”

Wow. Were they having an actual conversation? “That’s really pathetic.”

“It’s one of a handful of things Lili will eat.”

“And the others are?”

“Toaster Strudel, broccoli, sometimes an egg. And my mother’s vegetable soup.”

April laughed, confusing the heck out of the beasties. Not to mention herself. “You have a very strange child.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he said. Deadpan. Which was not making him less sexy. “By the way,” he added, “I haven’t been bringing her every day. But both my mom and my sister are dealing with some kind of bug. Your cousin was here and she kind of …” He frowned. “Took over.”

“That’s Mel. Not that I wouldn’t have done the same thing.” She shrugged. “Lili’s a sweetheart. You’re welcome to bring her any time you want.”

He nodded, muttering, “Thanks,” almost as an afterthought.

April cleared her throat. “So … Lili’s mother …?”

“We’re divorced.”

And, oh, there were questions she was dying to ask. Like how young were they when they got married, why he appeared to have full custody of his daughter, if Lili even ever saw her mom, that sort of thing.

The very sort of thing smart cookies knew to tiptoe right past.

Patrick tried to act normal during dinner, at least for Lilianna’s sake, even though it was bugging the life out of him that he hadn’t taken advantage of April’s not-so-subtle prying to ask her about her husband. You know, give her the chance to come clean?

But he hadn’t, and she hadn’t, so best simply to let the whole thing drop, right? After all, what did it matter in the big, or even small, scheme of things?

Still, he could not wait to get out of here. To take his child and book it back to their little apartment, where things were safe and predictable and he couldn’t hear April’s laughter. Or see those blasted rings sparkling in the candlelight.

Ever since discovering April was a widow, Patrick had redoubled his efforts to give his untoward musings the boot. A task that should not have been the bear it seemed determined to be, given that he was hardly a stranger to disciplining his thoughts. Otherwise he’d probably be dead by now. And, fool that he was, he’d actually thought he’d succeeded, keeping his focus on Lili, on the job, on working out, on Lili, so there was no room for anything else.

Until there April was, again, and now he understood the shadows in her eyes, which weren’t making things better. See, realizing he had to love Lili enough for two parents—before he was even sure he knew how to love her enough for one—had been a kick in the butt to his basic humanity, too. That he couldn’t love Lili, not the way she deserved to be loved, without having empathy for his other fellow beings.

No matter how much he’d wanted to shut himself off.

“Okay, cake!” Mel said, duck-walking with outstretched arms behind Lili as the little girl carried in the three-tier concoction, her pleased grin nearly splitting her face in two, and April’s gaze snagged Patrick’s just long enough for him to catch something else in her eyes.

Not to mention the blush sweeping up her neck.

Well, hell. How had he missed that?

It may have been a while, but unless he was mistaken the gal had the hots for him. Embarrassed as all hell about it, too, was his guess. Which he should have found gratifying, if not flattering. Or at least highly amusing. Since she was obviously channeling her grief in … other directions, there was no way in hell he was letting either of them go there.

Because he’d amassed enough regrets for one lifetime already. And she’d get over it. Especially once the inn opened and—he took a bite of the cake, which he had to admit was crazy good, even if he wasn’t a huge chocolate fan—word got out about her cousin’s cooking. Yep, April was going to be far too busy to think about … whatever she was thinking about.