Daughter on His Doorstep Read online

  “She’ll be mad.”

  He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw her frowning uncertainly as she looked out the window. It hit him that this was only the second time he’d ever had a child in his truck. This wasn’t just any child either. This was his daughter. He had a kid. Right now he didn’t much care if her mother was mad about a change in routing. And speaking of mad, at some point he was going to have to break this news to his mother. That was going to be fun. Not.

  When they got closer to the final destination, Emma asked, “Are we going to the park?”

  “Good eye. We definitely are. You’re pretty smart.”

  “Why?” Again with the suspicion.

  “Can you guess?”

  “To play soccer,” she said.

  “What was your first clue?”

  “There’s a soccer ball back here.”

  “You’re a pretty good detective.”

  “Not really.”

  He glanced in the rearview mirror again and saw that she wasn’t smiling. He’d thought she would but maybe when they got there and played ball she’d perk up.

  Minutes later he parked in the lot and slid out of the truck before opening the rear passenger door. After lifting Emma out, he grabbed the ball and headed for a wide-open grassy area.

  “This looks good to me. What do you think?” he asked.

  “It’s okay, I guess.”

  “I used to play when I was a kid, but I’m pretty rusty now.” Luke dropped the ball at his feet and nudged it in her direction. “Kick it back to me.”

  She did but there was very little enthusiasm.

  “Let’s do it again until I get the hang of it.” He nudged it back to her with a little more oomph.

  “Okay.” She trapped the ball with one foot then sent it back half-heartedly.

  For a few minutes they kicked it back and forth in silence. He knew she was a striker on her team, which meant she was passed the ball and her job was to try and score a goal. He was a rookie at this dad thing but he’d have to be blind not to see she wasn’t enjoying this. Winning points with her was the objective and he’d expected a soccer day to be a slam dunk. And yes, he was mixing his sports metaphors.

  “Is something on your mind?” he asked.

  “No. It’s fine.” But her tone said that wasn’t even in the same ballpark as the truth.

  “What’s bugging you?”

  She shrugged, then kicked the ball back. “Nothing.”

  “Look, kid, I’m a detective. It’s my job to read people. So out with it. What’s bothering you?”

  “You’ll get mad,” she said.

  “I won’t. Promise.” And if he did she would never know.

  “Okay.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Something her mom always did. “I don’t know what to call you.”

  “My name is Luke.”

  “I know. But Mommy says not to call adults by their first names.” She rubbed a finger underneath her nose then skipped to her right to stop the ball. “But you’re my father.”

  She was so serious and he wanted to lighten the mood. “I think calling me ‘father’ is a little too formal. Don’t you?”

  She shrugged and there wasn’t a flicker of a smile. “I guess. It sounds kinda weird.”

  “Yeah.” And yet another issue that could have been avoided if only he’d known about her. “How does ‘Dad’ sound?”

  She shrugged again, obviously a favorite communication device for her because this time it was a big movement of her shoulders. There was a noticeable lack of verbal accompaniment.

  “How about this?” He thought for a moment. “I’ll answer to Luke, or Dad, but not doofus, knucklehead or Pop. You decide. Deal?”

  “Okay.”

  It was affirmative if not heartfelt. Now what? “So, Emma, why don’t you show me how to dribble, pass and shoot.”

  She picked up the ball he just kicked back to her. “Can I go home now?”

  “I thought you loved to play soccer.” This was beginning to land somewhere in the vicinity of epic fail.

  “I need to do homework.”

  And she was tired, hungry and thirsty, at least that’s what she claimed. He wasn’t going to force this so they headed back to the truck. She insisted on carrying the ball. Apparently the coach stressed responsibility for equipment. But in this case that turned out to be bad.

  One minute she was walking along, the next the ball slipped out of her hands and rolled over the sidewalk and curb into the parking lot. She went racing after it before he could stop her.

  “Emma, wait.”

  But either she didn’t hear him or chose to ignore the warning because she kept going and tripped on the cement. There was no sound for several seconds and he swore his heart stopped.

  He went down on one knee and helped her sit up. “Are you okay?”

  She took one look at the blood on her leg and the rip in her jeans and started to cry. “I want Mommy.”

  Luke would never admit it but right that second he wanted Shelby, too. He was conflicted about whether to strangle her or plead for help but right this second he was the last line of defense. He picked Emma up in his arms and set her in the back seat before buckling her in. Then he retrieved the soccer ball which miraculously escaped being run over by a car. On the way back to the house he called Shelby who was home from work and gave her a quick account of what happened. She assured him she’d be waiting for them.

  Sure enough she was outside when he parked in his driveway. He stopped the truck and turned off the engine, then jumped out and met her by the rear door.

  “What should I do?” he demanded.

  “Take a breath. I’ll just clean it up.” When he opened the truck door she said to Emma, “Hey, sweetie, unbuckle your seat belt and come inside so I can—”

  “No, Mom. I can’t walk. It really hurts.”

  The tears and hostile look she gave him were like a knife in his chest and the need to fix this bordered on desperation. “I’ll carry her.”

  Shelby looked at him then nodded. “Okay. There’s a bathroom downstairs—”

  “I know. Same floor plan.”

  She nodded then led the way inside as Luke scooped the crying child into his arms and carried her. The bathroom was down the hall to the left and he took her there, nudging the light on with his elbow before setting her on the countertop by the sink. Shelby walked in with a pair of scissors.

  “Sweetie, I’m going to cut off the leg of your pants.”

  “You can’t, Mommy.” Emma gave Luke a look that said this was all his fault. “These are my favorite jeans.”

  “And now they’ll be your favorite cutoffs.” Shelby’s reassuring smile was also sympathetic. “They’re ruined, honey. I know the style is to have rips in your pants, but not like this. After today they’ll be cutoff shorts.”

  Emma rubbed her sweatshirt-clad arm under her nose and sniffled, but didn’t say anything. Talking the whole time, explaining what she was doing, Shelby gently washed the scraped knee with soap and water then poured peroxide over it. She dabbed around the edges before blowing gently on the bubbling disinfectant. When it was dry enough, she put antibiotic ointment on an adhesive strip and secured it over the wound.

  “Good as new,” she pronounced. “You’re all set to go over to your father’s house—”

  Tears gathered in Emma’s eyes as she looked at her mom. “I don’t want to.”

  “But you’re supposed to have dinner there,” Shelby said.

  “I want to stay home now.”

  Shelby started to push back but Luke held up a hand. “It’s okay. We’ll do it another time.” He looked at Emma. “I’m sorry about your knee.”

  She sniffled but didn’t say anything.

  He nodded. “Okay, then. Talk to you later.”

&
nbsp; He walked through the house and outside. Just as he was unlocking his front door he heard Shelby call his name. He whirled to look at her. “Is she okay?”

  “Fine. She just remembered she left her backpack in your truck. And she didn’t do her homework because she was at the park.”

  “Oh. Right.” He refused to feel guilty about that. “I’ll get it.”

  Shelby followed him down the path to the driveway. “Luke, accidents happen. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

  “How do you know I am?” He retrieved Emma’s pink backpack from the truck’s rear seat and handed it over.

  “I just do,” she said.

  Like she knew him. He wasn’t that guy anymore. “I’m a former soldier and now a cop. I protect and serve. This was my watch and she got hurt.”

  “You’re not perfect and neither am I. Stuff happens. We deal with it.”

  “You knew just what to say. I didn’t.”

  “You’ll learn. Just be there,” she advised.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that in my experience you weren’t there. You and I had a rough patch and you called it quits. I don’t even know why you bothered to tell me you’d joined the army.”

  “I thought you should know. And I definitely should have known about Emma.”

  “If I had told you would it have made a difference? You still had to go.” Her eyes were flashing now, more green than brown. “You had to do that and I had to do what I needed to for me and Emma. Be honest with me and yourself. Wasn’t it easier to go and do what you had to without knowing?”

  Luke didn’t know what to say. As it turned out he didn’t need to say anything because she didn’t wait for an answer. She turned and walked away from him. Independent. He could see where Emma got it. Why in blazes did that strike him as being sexy as hell?

  Chapter Four

  Emma was asleep and her grandmother was downstairs watching TV so the house was quiet while Shelby sat at the desk in her bedroom and corrected math tests. She was having trouble concentrating. The smoldering look of anger in Luke’s eyes kept popping into her mind. She was beginning to recognize it as a clue that something hadn’t gone well on a visit with his daughter. Not her finest moment but she experienced the tiniest bit of satisfaction because he’d arrogantly refused any input from her. Then the voice of guilt reminded her he wouldn’t need input if she’d told him in the first place.

  He always had been stubborn. And too good-looking.

  She wished the years hadn’t been kind to him but that wasn’t the case. Whatever he’d experienced had made him even better looking than the bad boy she remembered. That increased his sexiness quotient by a factor of ten.

  She finally finished grading the test it had taken her far too long to do. When she realized it was a failing grade, she sighed. This kid was doing everything right—homework, extra credit—and just wasn’t getting it. Maybe Brett’s friend, the volunteer math tutor, could help. She made a note to talk to her supervisor about it tomorrow.

  Her cell phone vibrated and she automatically glanced at the screen. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw it was a text from Luke. She wanted to ignore it because he was probably just venting more anger at her. That increased her guilt quotient by a factor of ten. She was tired but she owed him and picked up her phone to read the message.

  Need to talk.

  It’s late. Tomorrow? She hit Send.

  His answer came back almost immediately. It can’t wait. Coming over.

  No!! Mom still up!!

  Shelby waited for his response but it didn’t come and she sighed. Rejection shouldn’t be a surprise. He already hated and resented her. Nothing was going to change that. There was no reason to feel bad just because she didn’t ask “how high” when he said jump. This situation was still new and things had to be worked out.

  A soft tapping on her bedroom window made her jump. She looked over and gasped when she saw Luke there. Ten years ago he used to squeeze through a loose board in the fence separating the houses. Somehow he would climb up on the back patio cover and she would open the window for him to sneak inside. It had been thrilling then. If she was honest it was still thrilling now, in an “I wonder how he’s going to chew me out now” kind of way.

  She went to the window, slid the pane to the side and he climbed through the opening. Why did she have to notice that his shoulders were broader and didn’t fit through quite as easily now?

  “Where is the screen?” Of all the things she could have said that’s what she came up with?

  “I’ll put it back.”

  “What’s so gosh darn important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “You walked away earlier. I wasn’t finished talking.”

  “Tough. I was. And Emma was upset. I needed to get back to her. You and I were just talking in circles.”

  He dragged his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “I’m just trying to understand.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “There are no words that will help. Until you’re a pregnant seventeen-year-old girl who was dumped by her boyfriend, who then for some mysterious reason thinks he needs to announce that he joined the army and had to go, you will never understand why I made the decision I did.”

  “Look, Shelby—”

  “No, Luke. You look.” There was a foot between them and he was a lot taller but something inside her finally snapped. “I told you how sorry I am and sincerely mean that. If I could change it, somehow make it better, I would. But I can’t. And I won’t say it again.” She blew out a breath. “Emma will see you tomorrow as arranged. Now get out of my room.”

  Luke ignored her and sat on her queen-sized bed. “Tell me again.”

  Did he not hear what she just said? “What?”

  “You said you were going to disobey your mother and tell me. But you didn’t. I want to hear it one more time.”

  She shook her head and wanted to refuse. But this was the least she could do. “I was young. Terrified. And whether you believe me or not, the truth is that I didn’t want to ruin your life.” She turned the desk chair to face him and sat down on the edge. “My parents were divorced. My dad cheated on my mom then married the woman and had another family.”

  His mouth pulled tight for a moment. “I remember.”

  “All I had was my mom.”

  “And she had no use for me.” His soft tone didn’t take the bitterness out of the words.

  “Look at it from her perspective. You got in trouble more than once. If it wasn’t for your dad’s cop friend Lou Murphy, you’d have been in even more serious trouble. That gave you a reputation. And a couple of criminal justice classes in community college wasn’t a career path in my mother’s view. You were struggling and she was afraid I would get caught up in that struggle. In a bad way.”

  His eyes flickered and for just a moment it looked as if her words got through to him. Then the anger was back, maybe a bit less intense. “She never gave me a chance.”

  “I did. And you turned your back as if I didn’t exist.”

  “I wrote you letters. I told you that.”

  “And I told you I didn’t get them. I thought you walked away without a backward glance.” Her hands were shaking so she folded them in her lap. “I didn’t have a lot of choices. In fact there were two. Live on the street—pregnant and alone. Or agree to my mom’s terms and not tell you I was going to have a baby.”

  Luke stared at the math papers on the desk behind her. “So you’re a high school math teacher. Looks like the choice you made worked out well for you. Your mom must be proud.”

  She noted the sarcasm in his voice but didn’t flinch. Not anymore. “I would make a different choice today.”

  “You and your mother stole nine years of my daughter’s life f
rom me,” he said, just a little too loud.

  “Shh.” She put her finger to her lips and something darkened in his eyes. “My mother’s priority was protecting me. Mine is protecting Emma.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt her.”

  “That’s what you promised me and yet you did.” She refused to look away. She was over defending herself. Sorry would never be enough. “Kids need routine. After school, homework gets done first and then she does whatever she wants. She’s learned to follow the rules.”

  “Like you?” Suddenly the fight seemed to go out of him and he shook his head. “Look, this is pointless.”

  “I agree. That’s why I walked away earlier,” she reminded him.

  “Nothing you say can make it right.”

  “I know that.” She sighed as the fight went out of her, too. “So what in the world was important enough that you climbed up and came through my window?”

  “Emma is that important. I want to be a father to my daughter.”

  “I’m not stopping you.”

  “I know.” He looked down for a moment. “But I didn’t get to grow into this role gracefully like you did.”

  Hearing that truth had her on the verge of apologizing yet again but she held back. If she said it a million times it wouldn’t dissolve his resentment. “You’re not wrong about that. But I still don’t know why you’re here.”

  “It kills me to ask you for anything. And if you say ‘I told you so’—”

  “I can’t promise not to do that, so just spit it out, Luke.”

  “You owe me.”

  “Okay. So what do you want?”

  He stood and paced, then stopped in front of her and looked down. “If your offer still stands to be a go-between with Emma and me, I’d like to take you up on it.”

  This was unexpected. “Of course I’ll help. For Emma,” she added. “But I thought everything was going well. That you bought your way in with fast food and a soccer ball. Also a day at the park without making her do homework first probably bought you some credit.”

  “Don’t judge.” One corner of his mouth curved up for a moment before he turned serious again. “She’s different with you. Carefree. Happy. With me she’s quiet, tense, guarded. I want what you have.”