Falling For The Single Dad. Lisa Carter

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СКАЧАТЬ Bam. He grimaced.

      “Daddy...”

      The dull thuds continued. Relentless as a jackhammer, she was going to drive him crazy. Which, he acknowledged, was probably the point in her dogged barrage on the wooden counter. To drive him crazy or make him take her to Wachapreague.

      Bam. Bam. Bam.

      He adjusted the heat on the gas range and wiped his hands on the dish towel slung across his shoulder. “Stop with the drumbeat. I told you Dr. Duer called and said the turtle came through surgery as well as could be expected. We’ll check on the turtle’s status again in the morning. It’s time for dinner.”

      “Why can’t we go see Turtle Mama after dinner?”

      Izzie’s pluck and hardheadedness would be assets in the workforce one day. He took a deep breath. Provided a deeply patient boss interpreted those qualities as persistence and initiative.

      “We can’t go because...” He also reminded himself he was the one with the Coast Guard Academy degree. Surely he could outwit a fourth grader.

      She cocked her head at him.

      “Because...” His rationale slipped like sand between his fingers.

      He glanced out the window and inspiration struck. “Because we have to cordon off the nest of eggs.”

      “Oh, yeah. We’re on guard duty tonight.”

      His heart sank. Not where he’d been headed with this. He’d had a long day and—

      “But we can go check on Turtle Mama tomorrow morning before church, can’t we, Daddy?” Those blueberry eyes of hers warred with his common sense.

      “Dr. Duer probably has other patients, Izz. We don’t want to get in her way.”

      “She said I’m the best helper she’s had in a long time. I don’t bother her.” A tiny frown puckered Izzie’s brow. “Do you think I’m a bother?”

      Weston dropped his elbows on the counter and took her hands between his own. “No, Izzie. I think you’re wonderful.” He gave her a quick kiss on her forehead.

      She giggled. “I love you, Daddy.” She smiled at him. Tiny lines radiated out from the corner of her eyes.

      “I love you, too, Izz.”

      “So we can visit Turtle Mama tomorrow?”

      Who could say no to that face? Not him, that was for sure. Not about something so obviously important to her as Turtle Mama.

      His chest tightened. He hoped it was the turtle who was important to his daughter and not Dr. Caroline Duer. “I guess we can stop by.”

      Weston let go of his daughter’s hands. “But I don’t want you to get too attached to the turtle or the vet. When Turtle Mama gets better, she’s going back to where she belongs.”

      “I know, Daddy.” Izzie slid off the stool. “And the vet’s name is Caroline.” She busied herself setting out the napkins and silverware.

      “The vet will only be here through the summer.” Dr. Duer’s earlier courtesy call had been abrupt, brief and impersonal.

      He’d also made a few phone calls to a few of the older men in the CG Auxiliary who’d known the Duers and the prodigal Caroline for decades. “I don’t want you getting your feelings hurt. She’s a busy woman and by all accounts, not maternal—which means—”

      “I know what maternal means.” Izzie sniffed. “I think she’d make someone a nice mommy.”

      Eyes averted, she gave far more attention to facing the knives in just the right direction than knives deserved. “I think Caroline would make me a nice mommy,” she whispered.

      Weston reared. “Where in the world did you get that idea? I’m not looking for—”

      “Don’t you think Caroline is pretty, Daddy?” Izzie cocked her head and studied him.

      His thoughts about Caroline Duer shouldn’t be said out loud. Not to his daughter. Like how the sight of Caroline Duer did funny things to him.

      Nor how he’d found out the hard way beauty was only skin deep. That there were far more essential qualities to be prized.

      “She likes me, Daddy. I can tell. I think if you’d be nice to her, she’d like you, too.”

      He stalled. “I do think she’s very pretty,” he conceded. “But it takes more than pretty to make a family.” Or a mother.

      Weston turned to the range to flip the fritters. “We don’t have anything in common.”

      “You have me. You’d both have me.”

      He winced. If only that had been enough before. He’d never willingly put himself or his daughter through that kind of pain again. Help me, God. What do I say to her?

      “Don’t you want me to have a mommy again, Daddy?”

      He closed his eyes and leaned against the sink.

      “Don’t you want to have a wife to love us again?”

      What he’d not understood was how lonely his daughter was for a mother. He’d hoped and prayed he would be enough. His gut clenched. Yet again, he wasn’t enough for anyone. How could he explain he was trying to save Izzie from further pain?

      He swallowed against the bile rising in his throat. “I think a mommy and a wife would be a good thing, baby. Someday. But not Dr. Duer.”

      Izzie narrowed her eyes. “Who, then? And someday starts tomorrow, Daddy.”

      This daughter of his was way too smart to be nine. Way too smart to be his.

      Had the time come for him to rouse himself from his comfortable cocoon and return to the dating world? He glanced at his daughter. If for nothing else, then for Izzie’s sake. She deserved a mother’s love.

      Weston flopped the dish towel over Izzie’s head. “Right you are. First thing after breakfast tomorrow, we’ll head over to VIMS to check on Turtle Mama. And I’ll see what I can do about getting a date.”

      “It’d be fun to go with someone to the Wachapreague Fireman’s Carnival in a few weeks.” Izzie dragged the towel off her head. Her hair—Caroline Duer was right about that at least—was a mess. “But not a date with Caroline?”

      He shook his head. “Not with Caroline. We could never be more than friends, Monkey Girl.”

      And friends was stretching it. There were hidden depths to the aquatic vet. Jagged reefs submerged beneath her surface waiting to shipwreck the unwary. Caroline Duer wasn’t safe. To neither his daughter’s heart nor his.

      “Daddy!” she yelled. “The fritters are on fire!”

      Too late, he shut off the temperature gauge. He clanged a lid onto the frying pan and smothered the flames.

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