Her Daddy

Chapter 3

“This apple pie isn’t the same as the one last week, daddy. Look, it has brown things in it. It’s not the same,” Olivia said, pushing the flaky crust and lightly steaming filling around on her plate.

“Those brown things are cinnamon, honey. They make the pie taste even better than plain apple pie, and they were in your pie last week, too,” Caleb explained patiently, knowing that no matter what he said, the pie was history. It wasn’t that his daughter was a particular picky child all the time. But when she got an idea in her head, there was absolutely nothing on this planet that could convince her otherwise. He’d fault her for it, but since she’d come by it honestly, he figured it was only fair to bite his tongue.

“Nope, they weren’t there. I’d ‘member.”

“Well, what do you say we ditch the pie and head over to the park then? You’ve only got an hour before dinner.” OK, so it wasn’t the most responsible behavior to be feeding a child apple pie an hour before dinner, but he’d only stopped by the diner to drop off a customer’s car keys. Of course, Nina—the waitress with a weak spot for Olivia—had shoved the pie in front of her before he could intervene. And really, what was worse?—a father who let his daughter have pie an hour before dinner, or a father who took the pie away from her?

“Who’s that?” Olivia whispered in awe, her eyes wide and focused in the direction of the diner’s front door.

Thinking that Dora the Explorer or Cinderella herself must have just waltzed in the door, he looked up to see what had captured his daughter’s fascination.

And then he did his damnedest to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor. She was tall…with long, dark hair…kiss-me-now cupid bow lips…tits that must have been shaped by the gods…legs that went all the way up…

And she was without a doubt Scarlett Mackenzie.

Damn, she’d been one hell of a hottie the last time he’d seen her, but that was nothing compared to the woman standing twenty feet from him now. She was gorgeous, and dressed to the nines with not a single hair on her head out of place. Hell, she could have just stepped off a runway in Paris or out of the pages of a magazine.

But what the hell was Scarlett doing back in Paradise Peak? And why the hell did she have to look so damned good. He could still clearly remember that sexy little body driving him crazy all those years ago. And there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do about it. She’d been sixteen years old, and given that he’d been twenty-one at the time, he’d had no business thinking any one of the thousand and one erotic thoughts his mind had conjured then.

And by the way all the blood in his body was draining to his c**k, it seemed safe to say eight years had done nothing to quell his interest.

“Daddy, I said, who’s that?” Olivia queried, raising her voice loud enough he was certain the whole diner had heard her—including the walking fantasy that had just turned in his direction.

Recognition dawned in her clear, blue eyes instantly, and desire flared in them just seconds later. As discomfited as he was, he smiled to himself seeing the fire there. Eight years, and it appeared he still had the same effect on her as he did back then.

“That’s just a girl who used to live in Paradise Peak, honey,” he told Olivia, hoping she’d let it go at that. Scarlett Mackenzie might be hot as hell, but life with a five-year-old didn’t exactly allow for a spontaneous night of wild s*x. And if he got any closer to that woman, he wasn’t certain he’d be able to think about anything else. Hell, in the last three seconds, he’d already come up with half a dozen nasty ways to put those incredible lips of hers to good use.

“I wanna meet her,” Olivia announced, sliding out of the booth and pulling him along with her as she started up the aisle.

“Hi, I’m Olivia. This is my daddy,” she introduced them without any hesitation.

Before he could add anything else to the introduction, Scarlett crouched down, offering her hand to Olivia. “Hi there. I’m Scarlett,” she said in a soft, sexy voice that used to graze over him like a caress—and apparently it still did.

Olivia grasped Scarlett’s hand in an awkward handshake while beaming with an ear-to-ear smile. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said enthusiastically, and then glanced up. “See, Daddy? I was polite. Did you see that, Daddy?”

“Yes, I saw that, honey. You did very well,” he replied with a wry smile.

Scarlett stood up then, though the movement seemed reluctant. But when she met his eyes again, hers were clear and cool, with no hint of the fire that had been burning there just moments ago. Had he imagined it?

“Hi, Caleb,” she said in a breezy tone, which was still sexy as hell, but devoid of even a hint of longing.

OK, it was time to pull it together. Maybe she still had a thing for him; maybe she didn’t. Either way, there was no way in hell this could happen, no matter how much his body wanted otherwise. So, there was no point in thinking about it.

“Hey, Scarlett. Long time, no see,” he said, though he couldn’t help but imagine how she would have responded had he greeted her with, “Hey, Gorgeous. I want to f**k you right now,” instead.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.”

“Are you in town for a visit?” he asked, thinking the question sounded lame even to his own ears.

“Um, something like that,” she replied, though he couldn’t help but notice she’d fixed her attention on the logo on his shirt as she spoke.

Hmm…perhaps she was more interested than she was letting on.

“You’re still living here?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Wanna come to the park with us, Scarlett?” Olivia piped up hopefully.

Oh hell no. Going anywhere with Scarlett was a bad idea, even if Olivia was there to act as chaperone.

But before he could slip his way out of it, she managed to do it for him, “Thank you for inviting me, Olivia, but I have some errands I have to run today. I was just stopping in for a bite to eat. I hope you have a great time at the park though.”

Well, Olivia didn’t exactly look thrilled with the letdown, but she took it better than she did most. It was also clear by the distracted look on her face her thoughts were already turning to the swings, slides and see-saws that lay ahead. And now it was time to put an end to this awkward reunion.

“It was good to see you again, Scar. Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said as his daughter began pulling him toward the door.

But her breath caught in her throat, belying her nonchalance. It was a nickname he hadn’t used in a long time…his nickname for her…and it had rolled off his tongue as if he’d been calling her that every day for the past eight years. Her eyes flitted up to meet his and then away, so quickly he would have missed it if he hadn’t been watching her. But for that brief second, the fire she’d done such a good job of keeping under wraps peeked out through the cool façade.

“Yeah, it was good to see you, too, Caleb,” she said, seemingly fully recovered.

Olivia pulled harder on his hand, eagerly trying to advance him toward the exit. “Park, Daddy. Let’s go!”

He smiled ruefully, and let his eyes roam over her one last time. It wasn’t like she was going to be around for long. Chances were good he wouldn’t even see her again before she left. What harm could come from one last look?

The fly of his jeans tightened against him as his c**k swelled, and he looked away realizing the error in his thinking.

And then he was holding open the door, ushering his eager youngster outside.

“Did you see her fingernails? They looked so pretty. I bet she doesn’t even bite them!” Olivia exclaimed in the overloud whisper children often used.

Yeah, he’d seen them. And he could too easily imagine them digging into his back as he f****d her senseless.

***

An hour—and a turn on every piece of equipment at the park—later, he turned onto his street, but just as he was about to pull into the driveway of his three-bedroom, cedar-sided house, he noticed the cars parked next door. There were two of them, which at most houses wouldn’t have been cause for concern, but given that the house next door was vacant and for sale, and had been that way for…well forever, it struck him as odd.

Odd, and wreaking with the type of coincidence that could only be explained by fate’s twisted sense of humor. And if there had been any doubt, it vanished the moment Scarlett walked out the front door, smiling and stopping to shake hands with Rachel Deys there on the front porch. Damn. Was it too much to hope that was a “thanks, but no thanks” handshake?

Yes, apparently it was too much to hope for. Rachel had left the porch. She was walking across the yard and had just tucked the For Sale sign under her arm. Scarlett still stood on the front steps. She’d changed clothing, now wearing a low-cut, sleeveless dress, its lightly flared skirt barely hitting mid-thigh, and making his mouth water over the idea of getting her out of it.

“Look Daddy, it’s Scarlett,” Olivia piped up in a voice loud enough to draw her attention.

Scarlett smiled and waved, but he could tell even from this distance the smile was as forced as his own. But since Olivia was currently running toward her, there was no hope of waving and moving on. What on earth was his daughter’s obsession with her?

Heaving a heavy sigh, he walked toward them, reminding himself the woman wasn’t sixteen anymore—he wasn’t going to hell for thinking what he was thinking about her.

“This is Scarlett’s, house,” Olivia told him, confirming what he’d already figured out as he stopped next to her. “She’s going to live right next to us!”

“Yes, I gathered that.”

“Invite her to dinner, Daddy. It’s polite, ‘member?”

He and Scarlett in close proximity, and behind closed doors? Was there a bigger recipe for disaster? But Olivia would be there, and since no excuse was coming to mind at the moment, he turned to her, “Would you like to join us for dinner?” he queried formally.

She was silent, and it was plain on her face she was looking for an excuse. Apparently, Scarlett wasn’t the smitten teenager anymore, even if he did get the sneaky suspicion her body was a lot more interested than she was letting on. Still, if he’d invited her to dinner eight years ago, she would have jumped on it, mind, body and soul.

“Say yes! Say yes!” Olivia squealed. “We’re having pas-ghetti, and daddy said we can have extra meatballs.”

“Well, how can I say no to extra meatballs,” she conceded.

She turned around and locked the door—something nobody else in town ever bothered to do. She’d definitely been in the big city for a while. When he’d moved back home four years ago, he’d done the exact same thing for the first six months. Now, he only bothered locking the door at night—he just felt better knowing everything was locked up tight with his daughter in the house.

“So…you moved back home, too?” she queried as he opened his front door for them.

“Did the realtor tell you that?” How else could she possibly have known he hadn’t been there all along?

“No. I just never imagined you staying in Paradise Peak long. I figured you’d be out of here the day you finished your apprenticeship.”

Damn. She was right, or just about. Technically, he’d left the day after his apprenticeship was done. And if it weren’t for Olivia, he probably would have stayed gone. But when he’d wound up raising a baby on his own, abandoning big city life had seemed like the only logical choice. He’d stayed in the city for a few months, thinking Olivia’s mother would have come back eventually. What mother could so completely abandon her child? And she had come back—just long enough to hand over her parental rights and drain their savings account. After that, there was nothing holding him there, so he’d left.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable,” he told Scarlett, opening the front door to his house and motioning to the sofa in the living room.

“Nonsense. There’s no reason I can’t help.”

Yes, actually, there was a very good reason she couldn’t help; he needed to keep as much distance between them as possible. But since he couldn’t exactly tell her that, he smiled and nodded, motioning toward the kitchen instead.

He retrieved the sauce cans from under the counter and dumped their contents into a medium-sized pan on the stove, set the water to boil for noodles and tossed a tray of meatballs in the oven. Voila, dinner would be ready in minutes.

He could feel her eyes on him as he closed the oven door but when he turned around, it wasn’t the look he’d been expecting. She looked…distraught.

“What?”

“That’s it?” she asked, her tone dubious.

What was ‘it’? He followed her gaze to the stove. “Yes, that’s dinner…why?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“No, really, what?”

She stood there biting the inside of her lip. She used to do that when she was contemplating something, and it was oddly reassuring to see she hadn’t given up the habit. And sexy as hell. The sensation that rippled through him was anything but reassuring though as he stood there watching her, his eyes fixed on her cherry red lips. The moment she released it, he knew she’d made a decision. And if there had been any doubt, it became clear when she turned and marched toward the fridge, raiding it for onions, garlic and peppers.

“Here, cut these,” she said, handing him the food in her hands while she searched through the spice rack on the counter, pulling out one jar after another.

He deposited the vegetables onto the counter and got to work. It seemed she was setting about improving upon his less than stellar meal—which was fine with him. Even he was sick of his bland, uninspired cooking.

“So, it seems like you’ve learned to cook,” he said, looking for a distraction when she sidled up next to him and grabbed a handful of the garlic he’d been chopping.

“Oh well, in California, everyone knows how to cook…a completely wasted skill there if you ask me, since most Californians I’ve met seem to guard their calorie count closer than their bank account.”

He laughed. Witty, that’s what she was. It had been one of his favorite things about her…well, that and a body a guy couldn’t help but want to drive his c**k into. But she wasn’t just funny or goofy; she’d made him laugh more times than he could count with her quick-witted humor.

“So, you used to know my daddy?” Olivia asked in between verses of boisterous praise for Scarlett’s cooking an hour later. If he’d had any doubts what his daughter thought of his cooking, they’d been put to rest—not that he took offense. He made sure she ate nutritiously, but beyond that, he wasn’t a chef.

“Um, well, yes, we grew up together, I guess you could say.”

“But then, why’d you leave? Didn’t you think my daddy was nice? You were nice to Scarlett weren’t you, daddy?”

They both laughed, though he could tell by the light blush that stained her cheeks, she was remembering the same things as him—all the times she’d gotten him alone and he’d had to extricate himself from the situation. Little did she know, getting away from her had been the last thing he’d wanted to do.

“Yes, your daddy was very nice. But my dad got a really cool job in California, and my sister got into school there. And my parents knew I had my heart set on a great school there, too, so that’s why we all went there together.”

“Wow…daddy doesn’t take me anywhere I want to go. And you have a sister? I’ve always wanted one of those!”

Hmm, that wasn’t how he recalled Scarlett’s departure from Paradise Peak. He remembered the day she’d come to tell him she was leaving. She’d been…heartbroken. It was one time his attraction to her had taken a backseat to what else he’d felt—sadness. He’d wrapped his arms around her and just stood there, a foolish part of him determined to never let her go.

Eventually she’d looked up at him, tears cascading down her cheeks and desperation in her eyes. She’d lunged for his lips, and he should have stopped her. But he didn’t. He’d remained perfectly still, his hands clenched so tight his knuckles turned white, and he’d done his damnedest not to think about the lithe body pressed against him. But when she’d tried to fit herself tighter against him and deepen the kiss, that’s when he’d pulled away, wishing like hell he didn’t have to.

Dinner concluded, he deposited the dirty dishes on the counter, intending to leave them there overnight. A small, foolish part of him always hoped they’d magically clean themselves while he slept. So far, no luck. But still, it was worth a try.

“Um, are you sure you don’t want some help with those?” Scarlett queried, standing undecided in the middle of the kitchen.

No, the last thing he wanted to think about right then was dishes. Fortunately, it was Olivia’s bedtime, which kept him from focusing on what he really wanted to be doing in that moment.

“I want you to help tuck me in, Scarlett,” Olivia insisted when he announced it was time for bed.

She looked up at him, and he could tell she was looking for direction, seemingly worried about overstepping a boundary. All he really wanted to do was give her directions to his bedroom, but instead he nodded. He had a feeling this was one of those times Olivia wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Tucked in amid a plethora of stuffed animals a few minutes later, Olivia reached up and pulled Scarlett down to her in an enthusiastic hug. Scarlett laughed, and hugged her back, but as Olivia relaxed back against her pillows, Scarlett leaned in and kissed her gently on the forehead, as naturally as if she’d done it every night since Olivia was born. It sent a strange, warm sensation through him, but he forced it away.

“I’ll just give you two a minute,” Scarlett told him, leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind her.

“You seem to like Scarlett very much,” he observed as he re-tucked the blankets around her.

“Don’t you, daddy? She’s so pretty.” ‘

“Yes, she is, but being pretty isn’t what makes a person important.”

“I know that, silly” she said, as if he’d told her the sky was blue. “But she’s nice, and she knows how to cook way better than you, and she smiles a lot…and you smiled a lot since she was here, too.”

Damn…his daughter was right. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than Olivia had made him smile so much. And it had always been that way with Scarlett. When she hadn’t been busy trying to seduce him, driving him crazy fighting a hard-on he worried would do permanent damage, she’d made him smile more than anyone else he’d known.

“Yes, she’s very nice, honey. I’m glad you like her,” he said as he leaned down for a goodnight kiss.

Olivia yawned then and nestled deeper into her covers. He watched as her eyes fluttered closed and her little face relaxed in sleep. He smiled as he stood up, turning to tiptoe quietly out of the room when it hit him. Olivia was asleep, and that left him completely alone in the house with Scarlett. A lightning bolt of desire shot through his body as he closed the door behind him. He struggled to ignore it, and then a thought occurred to him.

Scarlett was a grown woman, who to the best of his knowledge was unattached, and clearly she was physically attracted to him. And he sure as hell wanted her, so why was he fighting it?

The only answer that came to mind made absolutely no sense. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, and he wasn’t going to go to hell for what he wanted to do to her. Sure, a few things that came to mind were probably illegal in a good number of states, but he had no intention of flaunting it on the world wide web. He’d been fighting his attraction to her from the moment he saw her in the diner because he’d long ago forced himself to accept that particular piece of forbidden fruit was…well, forbidden.

But she wasn’t now.