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  “You mean like a funnel cake?” she asks innocently.

  See what I mean about this kid. I frown.

  Now she starts laughing, her eyes sparkling brighter than ever. It seems as though she’s been skipping ever since we arrived, the light sundress Erica gave her as a present swishing around her knobby, little girl knees.

  I’ve had to hold back the urge to tell her to stop, to watch where she’s going even though I’ve kept a tight grip on her hand since the moment we stepped outside. I don’t want her to trip and skin her knees, but I don’t want to tamp down that exuberance, either. I’m beginning to recognize the fine line a parent has to walk. “No, not funnel cake. How about a hamburger?” I suggest since I don’t think the chances of finding anything healthier here are very high.

  “C’mon, Daddy, please. It’s a holiday!”

  I gaze at her adorable face.

  “Please, Daddy.”

  Poor thing had to live with Regina for the last two years. Oh, what the hell? She’s right. I should loosen up a little. Just this one last time. “Fine,” I say sternly. “But no more sweets after that until you’ve had dinner. And that’s non-negotiable.”

  My daughter is a smart cookie and knows when she’s won, so she readily agrees and gives my legs a quick hug. Then she finishes a ball of cotton candy bigger than her head while we walk through the throng of people.

  Afterwards, we find a stand selling fresh-grilled burgers and hot dogs. I normally favor a very healthy diet, but my mouth floods with saliva when the scent of grilled meat hits my nose.

  Minutes later, we’re sitting on a random stretch of curb with our burgers, watching the world go by. She has so many questions. I barely remember the days of my childhood, when everything was so fresh and new. When life was only just beginning to make an impression on me. And it’s funny, but she helps me see things through those eyes again. I feel younger when I’m with her. Less jaded.

  “Why does that man look so unhappy?” she asks, jerking her chin in the direction of a dour old man whose mouth is set in a deep frown. His brows are drawn together as he elbows his way down the sidewalk. He’s dressed sloppily, or maybe it’s the sweat rolling off his forehead and soaking into his t-shirt that gives that impression.

  Normally, I would ignore him, or at most mutter something in his general direction if he were to bump into me. Now, with my daughter seated beside me, I look at him. I really look at him. “He’s probably lonely,” I decide. “Tired… sad…and hot. Old. He doesn’t have anybody to enjoy the day with him. Maybe he doesn’t like crowds.”

  “He lives in a big city, though,” she reasons before taking a bite from her burger, leaving ketchup at the corners of her mouth.

  “That’s true. I guess he should be used to it. Some people are so grumpy, though, that they don’t notice all the good things around them. All they see is what makes them unhappy.”

  She thinks about this, chewing slowly as she does. I can almost see the wheels turning. “That’s a shame. I wish I could do something to make him happier.”

  I kiss the top of her sun-warmed head. “I know you do, but it’s important to remember that you can’t make everybody happy. You know? Some people are just plain old unhappy and you have to leave it at that. Don’t take it personally. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “Daddy, can I give him my burger?”

  I stare at her. “Why do you want to do that?”

  “Because he’s hungry and I’m not,” she says simply.

  For a second, I am stunned by the humanity in my daughter. Then I feel shame flood through me. That thought never even crossed my mind. I grasp her hand and stand up. “Come on.”

  We walk up to the man. “Hello.”

  His body shrinks and he looks at me with an expression that is almost fear. Maybe, all he knows is people who want to move him on or hurt him. I open my wallet, pull out all the bills in it and thrust it into his hands. “Go buy yourself some lunch.”

  He looks shocked. “You don’t have to give me this much,” he says in a trembling voice.

  “It’s not from me. It’s from my daughter.”

  He looks at down at Maddie. She grins at him and his eyes fill with tears. “God, bless you, child. God bless you,” he mutters. He reaches out a hand and touches her head, but his hands are so filthy I feel a sudden flare of alarm and the protective instinct that only Maddie manages to inspire in me, takes over. I pick my daughter up and seat her on my shoulders. “Good luck,” I say to the man and walk away. I look up and Maddie is waving to the man she just helped.

  “Look, Daddy, there’s a lady holding two ice cream cones in her hands,” she cries from high above my head.

  “Good for her,” I say, navigating my way through the crowd

  “Now I want ice cream,” she says.

  I shake my head at the audacity of my kid. “I thought we agreed no more sweets until after dinner now.”

  “But when I saw the ice cream…” she trails off, following the progress of the double-fisting woman with great interest.

  I barely stifle a smile as I scan the immediate area in search of the ice cream stand. Just for today.

  “Daddy! Daddy, quick put me down,” Maddie says, squirming on my shoulder.

  “What?” I ask, lowering her to the ground. The next thing I know, I’m being led through the crowd, zigging and zagging in between clusters of people.

  “Slow down! What’s the emergency?” Then, I almost slam straight into the emergency, which isn’t an emergency at all. It’s a petite, curvy, blonde woman with familiar eyes and cheeks that flush the instant she recognizes me.

  “What are you doing here?” I manage to choke out, only inches from Sam.

  She looks gorgeous in a thin-strapped dress and sandals, her hair in a bun at the back of her head. She looks soft and feminine, a contrast from her professional attire.

  She frowns slightly, eyes moving this way and that as if she’s searching for an escape route. “Uh, I live in the city,” she mumbles. “And I didn’t have any other plans, so…”

  “Are you here alone?” I can’t help but ask. She better not say she’s here on a date because I would relish the feeling of my fist against his jaw.

  “Yes,” she blurts out, still looking for all the world like a deer in headlights.

  I’m absolutely the last person she wants to see right now, that much is obvious. But she’s hooked too, and there’s no escape. I know how tight my daughter’s grip is, and she’s now grasping Sam’s hand with both of hers.

  “Hi, Sam!” she beams, nearly bouncing up and down in her excitement.

  Sam smiles down at my daughter her tension dissolving somewhat. “Hi, pretty girl. I love your dress. Are you having fun today?”

  “Yes, Daddy and I have been having sooooo much fun! We saw jugglers and a man who ate fire! He ate real fire! Did you see him?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Sam chuckles, shaking her head.

  “Daddy says it doesn’t hurt him.”

  The two of them giggle together and I wish she didn’t touch my heart the way she does. Something tells me that she doesn’t want anything to do with me outside the office—and she would’ve bolted just now—had Maddie not grabbed her before she had the chance. Dammit, she shouldn’t get along so well with my little girl. All she’s doing is making it impossible to forget her.

  “Why don’t you come along with us?” I suggest, giving the pair of them an easy smile. “We were on our way to get some ice cream and there’s another two blocks we haven’t even checked out yet.”

  Maddie bounces harder than ever, practically bursting with excitement, still holding Sam’s hand. “Please? I never had so much fun in my whole life!”

  “Not ever?” Sam asks, a frown briefly touching her face as she considers this. She’s probably wondering how dull and joyless Maddie’s life has been up to this point.

  “No! I never went to a fair before. This is one of our fun things, right, Daddy?” />
  I nod. “We made a list of all the things she wants to do, and this was one of them.” Inspiration hits like a bolt from the blue. “I bet it would be even more fun if you walked around with us.”

  Her brows lower until I can barely make out her eyes. She’s pissed off at my blatant use of Maddie as a ploy to get her to come along with us.

  I grin and shrug. So bite me!

  “Can you come with us, Sam?” Maddie screams.

  She heaves a big sigh, then she turns to my daughter and gives her the biggest smile. It’s warm enough to melt the ice caps. “All right, then,” she says. “Let’s see what flavors they have at the ice cream stand. What’s your favorite flavor?”

  “Chocolate!” Maddie proudly announces, taking one of my hands with the one she’s not using to hold Sam firmly in place. She beams up at me, then stage whispers, “See? I told you she should have ice cream with us!”

  Lincoln

  The keys are in my pocket,” I whisper as we reach the door to the apartment. At any other time, the sensation of Sam’s fingers fishing around inside my khakis would lead to something even more interesting, but the dead weight of a sleeping six-year-old in my arms is like a bucket of, well I wouldn’t go so far to say, cold water, because nothing is cold when Sam is around.

  Sam balances the massive stuffed elephant I won for her in one arm and unlocks the door.

  I catch a glimpse of her eyes while they sweep over the apartment as we walk through.

  Maddie stirs, but remains fast asleep as I carry her in. It’s been a long day. Though the sun isn’t even halfway set, I’m sure she’ll sleep through the night.

  “Do you need help?” Sam whispers.

  “Sure, thanks.” I carry my daughter to the bathroom, where I sit her on the vanity beside the sink. She lifts her head, but barely, and Sam seems to understand what to do without being asked. She wets a washcloth and runs it over Maddie’s face, wiping away the last remnants of ice cream and another head-sized cotton candy she still, somehow, managed to convince me to buy for her. The kid is like a hypnotist. Before I knew it, I was handing over the money and she was holding another cloud of spun sugar.

  Without hesitating, Sam also removes Maddie’s sandals and washes her dust-streaked feet. I hate to admit to myself that I wouldn’t have thought of it, as much as it clearly needed to be done. There are still so many things I don’t know, and don’t know that I don’t know. Years of practice, I’ve missed out on. I wonder how this comes so naturally to her.

  It would feel so right, doing this with her all the time. The two of us taking care of my daughter, working as a team.

  I carry Maddie to the spare guest bedroom. Her room is still a work in progress and it still smells of paint. We sit on the bed with me propping Maddie up while Sam gently and quickly changes her into a nightgown. We don’t exchange a word, merely pointing and nodding to communicate. Not that it matters. Something tells me a sixty-piece brass band could parade through the apartment and my kid wouldn’t budge.

  But there’s a certain solemnity and closeness in the way we’re working together. We’re on the same wavelength, acting as two parts of a whole. The way a couple who’s been together for years might work as a team while putting their child to bed after a long, exciting day. Both of us are tired, too. Maddie ran us ragged. We exchange a small smile before I tuck her in and plant a kiss on her forehead. The sort of secret smile adults exchange when a child they both care about is happy. As if Maddie doesn’t belong to Regina and I, but Sam and I.

  I know Sam does care for Maddie. She was endlessly energetic today, allowing herself to be dragged from one place to another without so much as a word of protest.

  “You were good to her today,” I murmur as we walk up to the kitchen.

  “It was easy. She’s adorable.” Sam shrugs and leans against the counter.

  “Something to drink?” I ask, bending in front of the fridge. Anything to keep her around a little while longer. We managed to spend a perfect afternoon together. Not a word about work, or us, or anything that might cause the bubble around us to burst.

  “Water, please. It’s so hot out there.”

  “You held up like a champ,” I tell her, grinning as I hand over the bottle.

  Our fingers brush together and she looks down, a blush coloring her cheeks.

  I’ll do anything to hold her here, with me, in this moment.

  “So did you.”

  “You made her happy,” I murmur, all pretense of flirting or messing around put aside. “Thank you for that. You don’t know what it means to me.”

  “How many years since your divorce?”

  Even the thought of the divorce makes me grimace. “Two years, but it feels as if she’s been away from me for much longer. I guess the two of us are trying to get to know each other. It would be difficult enough under ordinary circumstances, but the way things are at work…”

  She nods slowly. “I can’t imagine, but you do seem to be handling it well. She’s adjusting and seems to like being with you.”

  “That makes one person, anyway,” I mutter, flashing a wry grin.

  “Not everybody is as susceptible to your charms, I guess. Some people have taste,” she teases.

  “Are you casting aspersions on my daughter’s taste?” I say with a mock stern expression.

  “Not at all. The poor thing has no choice. You don’t get to choose your family.” She barely holds back a giggle.

  It must be the day we’ve spent together, but there’s a freshness to the energy between us. The tension from yesterday is no longer sizzling between us, probably because we’ve shared a good day. A wonderful day. The sort of day that leaves a person feeling good afterward. Satisfied. With the impression that life is actually pretty good.

  “Thanks,” I say

  “You make her happy,” she replies, meeting my gaze with her own frank, unwavering one. “She needs that.” She bites her lip while she decides whether to say what is in her mind, then goes ahead and says it, “I don’t think she’s had a lot of happiness in her life.”

  I scowl at the reminder. “How can you tell?”

  Her shrug speaks volumes, as does the way she looks over my shoulder at something far away. “I just can. Call it experience.”

  I study her.

  She’s wounded. Somebody ignored her when she was young. Maybe that’s why she feels such a kinship with Maddie—two similar souls recognizing each other.

  “Then you obviously know how to make her happy.” I grin, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You seem to be doing a pretty go job of making her happy.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah. I think she’s lucky to have a father like you. Indulgent, patient.”

  I grin. “It won’t kill you spend some adjectives.”

  She rolls her eyes so hard she could have checked out her own ass. “Okay. Rude, arrogant, overbearing, dominating, bad-tempered—”

  I hold up a hand. “Hold up, I was thinking more in the line of sexy, brilliant, smart, funny, honest, unlike anyone you’ve ever been with.”

  She licks her lips and my eyes widen. Fuck, she looks so goddamn hot. My cock starts thickening, lengthening out. The air in the room changes and my blood starts pumping.

  “You don’t need me to tell you those things. You know you are.” Her voice is a throaty whisper.

  Suddenly, I can’t stop myself. I have to taste her sweet, full mouth again. I step forward and grab her waist.

  The heat of her body seeps through our clothes and makes me feel almost high. Her chest heaves. “Lincoln,” she gasps.

  I can feel her body trembling as I swoop down on her mouth. She kisses me back as if she has been waiting a lifetime for my kiss. The little moan of surrender she makes in my mouth is the most arousing thing that has ever happened to me. So fucking arousing, I’m rock hard for her.

  But it gets better.

  The kiss deepens, my tongue going in to search for hers, tangling,
hooking and pulling it into my own mouth. And sucking the hell out of it. She melts against me. Just as she did in the lab. She’s so willing, so ready, so needy. I want to fulfill that need, to meet it with my own and satisfy us both. She brings out the animal in me, the part of any man that wants to take, possess, and make a woman pass out in ecstasy because of him. My hands take another tour of her body in its light cotton dress, stroking and fondling her lush curves.

  She lets her head fall back with a sigh, giving me room to run my lips over her throat. Her pulse pounds away beneath her smooth skin, giving away her excitement. I’m fairly sure my heart is racing just as fast, maybe faster. How can I help it? She is so goddamn delicious. When she lets out a soft moan, I feel the reverberation against my lips and smile.

  Yeah, she’s mine.

  She gasps when I cup her firm, full ass with both hands, kneading, then lifting her onto the counter. Her legs hook around my hips automatically, drawing me closer to the center of her heat. My entire body stirs with every sigh, every stroke of her long fingers through my hair. She moans into my mouth when I cup her breasts, playing with the round globes as my mouth finds its way down to join my hands in pleasuring her.

  “Yes, yes,” she whispers, arching her back with her hands flat on the counter to support her.

  If there anything sexier than a beautiful woman, her mouth hanging open, lost in sensation, I have never seen it. I’m so hard, I’m fairly sure I’ll burst out of my shorts in another minute or two. “I need you,” I gasp, grinding against her, sensing her heat through our clothes.

  She throws her arms around my neck, whimpering softly as I lower my shorts, then pull her panties to the side. She’s so wet, so hot and ready, whispering in my ear, encouraging me, urging me to take her.