Tall, Dark and Fearless: Frisco's Kid. Suzanne Brockmann

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      “More playing with Mia,” Tasha suggested.

      He laughed nervously. “I’m not sure we can make that a rule, Tash. I mean, things that concern you and me are fine, but…”

      “I’d love to play with you,” Mia murmured.

      Frisco glanced up at her. She couldn’t possibly have meant that the way it sounded. No, she was talking to Natasha. Still… He let his imagination run with the scenario. It was a very, very good one.

      “But we don’t have to make a rule about it,” Mia added.

      “Can you come to the beach with us for my swimming lesson?” Tasha asked her.

      Mia hesitated, looking cautiously across the room at Frisco. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

      “You’ve already got your bathing suit on,” he pointed out.

      She seemed surprised that he’d noticed. “Well, yes, but…”

      “Were you planning to go to a different beach?”

      “No… I just don’t want to…you know…” She shrugged and smiled apologetically, nervously. “Interfere.”

      “It wouldn’t be interfering,” Frisco told her. Man, he felt as nervous as she sounded. When had this gotten so hard? He used to be so good at this sort of thing. “Tasha wants you to come with us.” Perfect. Now he sounded as if he wanted her to come along as a playmate for his niece. That wasn’t it at all. “And I…I do, too,” he added.

      Jeez, his heart was in his mouth. He swallowed, trying to make it go back where it belonged as Mia just gazed at him.

      “Well, okay,” she finally said. “In that case, I’d love to come. If you want, I could pack a picnic lunch…?”

      “Yeah!” Tasha squealed, hopping around the room. “A picnic! A picnic!”

      Frisco felt himself smile. A picnic on the beach with Mia. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such anticipation. And his anticipation was for more than his wanting to see what her bathing suit looked like, although he was feeling plenty of that, too. “I guess that’s a yes. But it shouldn’t be just up to you to bring the food.”

      “I’ll make sandwiches,” Mia told him, opening the door. “You guys bring something to drink. Soda. Or beer if you want it.”

      “No beer,” Frisco said.

      She paused, looking back at him, her hand on the handle of the screen door.

      “It’s another one of the rules I’m going to be following from now on,” he said quietly. Natasha had stopped dancing around the room. She was listening, her eyes wide. “No more drinking. Not even beer.”

      Mia stepped away from the door, her eyes nearly as wide as Tasha’s. “Um, Tash, why don’t you go put on your bathing suit?”

      Silently Tasha vanished down the hallway.

      Frisco shook his head. “It’s not that big a deal.”

      Mia clearly thought otherwise. She stepped closer to him, lowering her voice for privacy from Tasha’s sensitive ears. “You know, there are support groups all over town. You can find a meeting at virtually any time of day—”

      Did she honestly think his drinking was that serious a problem? “Look, I can handle this,” he said gruffly. “I went overboard for a couple of days, but that’s all it was. I didn’t drink at all while I was in the hospital—right up ’til two days ago. These past few days—you haven’t exactly been seeing me at my best.”

      “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to imply…”

      “It’s no big deal.”

      She touched his arm, her fingers gentle and cool and so soft against his skin. “Yes, it is,” she told him. “To Natasha, it’s a very big deal.”

      “I’m not doing it for Tash,” he said quietly, looking down at her delicate hand resting on the corded muscles of his forearm, wishing she would leave it there, but knowing she was going to pull away. “I’m doing it for myself.”

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      “IS THOMAS REALLY a king?”

      Mia looked up from the sand castle she was helping Tasha build. The little girl was making dribble turrets on the side of the large mound using wet sand and water from a plastic pail that Mia had found in her closet. She had remarkable dexterity for a five-year-old, and managed to make most of her dribbles quite tall and spiky.

      “Thomas’s last name is King,” Mia answered. “But here in the United States, we don’t have kings and queens.”

      “Is he a king somewhere else? Like I’m a princess in Russia?”

      “Well,” Mia said diplomatically, “you might want to check with Thomas, but I think King is just his last name.”

      “He looks like a king.” Natasha giggled. “He thinks I’m from Mars. I’m gonna marry him.”

      “Marry who?” Frisco asked, sitting down in the sand next to them.

      He’d just come out of the ocean, and water beaded on his eyelashes and dripped from his hair. He looked more relaxed and at ease than Mia had ever seen him.

      “Thomas,” Tasha told him, completely serious.

      “Thomas.” Frisco considered that thoughtfully. “I like him,” he said. “But you’re a little young to be getting married, don’t you think?”

      “Not now, silly,” she said with exasperation. “When I’m a grown-up, of course.”

      Frisco tried to hide his smile. “Of course,” he said.

      “You can’t marry my mom ’cause you’re her brother, right?” she asked.

      “That’s right,” Frisco told her. He leaned back in the sand on his elbows. Mia tried not to stare at the way the muscles in his arms flexed as they supported his weight. She tried to pull her gaze away from his broad shoulders and powerful chest and smooth, tanned skin. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen him without a shirt, after all. She should be getting used to this….

      “Too bad,” Tash said with a sigh. “Mommy’s always looking for someone to marry, and I like you.”

      Frisco’s voice was husky. “Thanks, Tash. I like you, too.”

      “I didn’t like Dwayne,” the little girl said. “He scared me, but Mommy liked living in his house.”

      “Maybe when your mom comes back, the two of you could live a few doors down from me,” Frisco said.

      “You could marry Mia,” Tasha suggested. “And move in with her. And we could live in your place.”

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