“Yeah.” Luke tipped his beer in the direction of Tiffany and Marcia and...Beth? Barbara? He couldn’t remember. There were three other women in the pool, and two other guys Luke had known since high school. A typical Sunday afternoon at Luke’s house, a small rental he’d had for about a year now. He should have been enjoying himself. Should have been in that pool, living it up with Beth/Barbara/whatever her name was. But his mind kept straying back to Peyton, back to the earnest intent in her eyes, to the obvious protectiveness she felt for Madelyne and, most of all, to the way Peyton had dropped a detour into his life. “Nah. Got a lot on my mind.”
“Dude, it’s Sunday. Party day. Not the time to think about anything other than Coors or Yuengling.”
Luke propped his elbows on his knees, let the beer bottle dangle from his fingers. “You ever think we’re too old for this? That maybe it’s about time we grew up?”
“What is wrong with you? Hell no, we’re not too old for this. When your AARP card comes in the mail, then maybe it might be time to grow up.”
Luke smiled, but the gesture felt flat. “Jeremiah might disagree.”
“Jesus, Luke. What the hell is wrong with you? Why’d you go and bring that crap up?”
Luke saw his own reflection in the mirror of Ben’s sunglasses. The image seemed distorted, small, as if there was a lot more Luke could do to be a bigger presence. “Just thinking through my life choices, that’s all.”
“Well, that isn’t going to get you anywhere but depressed. And that doesn’t work on party day.” Ben clinked his bottle against Luke’s. “So come on, have another beer and let’s go join our hot friends.”
Luke glanced over at the others. “You go. I’m going into town. Pick up some snacks and beer.”
“We have plenty—”
But Luke was already out of his seat and heading into the house. He left the full beer on the countertop, threw on a T-shirt, then climbed into his Jeep and headed toward downtown Stone Gap. He didn’t need to go to the store. Didn’t need to do a damned thing today except mow the lawn, but for some reason, he couldn’t stay in that lounge chair for one more second.
All he could think about was his daughter. With her blond ringlets and blue eyes and a wide, toothy smile.
She still didn’t feel any more real. He needed to know, to see, to really believe. Luke drove for twenty minutes, passing through downtown Stone Gap, turning right at Gator’s Garage, closed on Sunday, as it had been for the past forty years, then another left and a right before he realized where he had ended up.
The Stone Gap Hotel sat atop a tiny hill a few blocks outside town. The white wood clapboard building wasn’t doing much to live up to its name, considering it held about twenty rooms and room service was provided by Tony’s Pizza across the street, but it was the only thing Stone Gap had for out-of-towners, and this, Luke figured, was where Peyton would be staying. Peyton’s mother, long divorced, had died a few years back, and that meant Peyton had no real family left in town, so the hotel was the most logical choice.
Luke tried to imagine that—a loss of the family that had surrounded him since birth. Two brothers, a mother, father, numerous aunts and uncles and cousins, a whole army of family at every holiday and gathering. Peyton had always been part of the little Reynolds crew of three, and now two of those three were gone.
Except for Madelyne, her niece. Susannah’s daughter. His daughter. A connection between two families, one big and boisterous, one so tiny it almost didn’t exist.
He parked, got out of the car and headed up to the front desk. The blonde behind the desk smiled when he entered the air-conditioned office. Karen Fleming had been a year behind Luke in high school and had dated half the football team—but not Luke. Something Karen tried to rectify every time she saw him.
“Why, if it isn’t Luke Barlow here to brighten my day.” She flashed him a broad smile and leaned over the counter, a move which brought the tops of her breasts into view. Any other day, Luke might have flirted back, but not today.
“Is Peyton staying here?” he asked.
Karen pouted. “And I thought you were here to see me.”
“Peyton?” Luke prompted again.
Karen sighed. “Room ten. Down the hall and on the right. What’s she doing back in town anyway?”
Luke was already heading away from the front desk. The maroon-and-gold-carpeted hall muffled his footsteps as he passed the other faux oak doors and stopped before room ten, his stomach doing backflips.
Sorry, Peyton, I’m not father material.
He shifted his weight. Tried another tack in his head.
Sorry, Peyton, but I can’t do this. I’m...busy.
Oh, yeah, that sounded even better. Just a simple Sorry, Peyton, I can’t was all he should say. Except that sounded empty, too. None of the three options captured what he really wanted to say—
No way, no how, do I want to be responsible for a kid that I didn’t know I had; a kid I have no idea how to connect with; a kid who is a mystery to me.
A kid who has no other living parent but me.
Well, hell. That was the truth, right there. Madelyne had no one but him, and her aunt. If he didn’t step up, then, for all intents and purposes, as Peyton had said, this child would be an orphan.
How could he possibly say no?
He raised his hand, but the door opened before he could knock, and the four-year-old from the photo came barreling out and straight into him. He let out an oomph.
“Sowwy,” she said, backing up and sending Peyton an uncertain glance.
And in that moment, there was no doubt. He could see his eyes, Susannah’s high cheekbones, in Madelyne’s face. She could have been a carbon copy of their baby pictures.
This was his daughter. The thought settled into him, not as foreign now.
“Madelyne, don’t run—” Peyton stopped in the doorway. Her eyes widened. “Luke. What are you doing here?”
“I...uh...” His brain cells misfired when he took in what Peyton was wearing. Earlier today, it had been a soft peach dress that swirled around her legs, with low heels, and her straight blond hair down around her shoulders. But in the interim, she had changed into a dark green two-piece bathing suit and one of those knitted cover-up things that seemed designed to entice a man with flashes of skin and swimsuit. Her hair was swept up into a clip, with a few tendrils tickling against her long, elegant neck. Holy hell, Peyton Reynolds had grown up. And done it well.
He cleared his throat, refocused his mind on why he had come here. “I wanted to talk to you.”
She put a protective hand on her niece. Madelyne stepped back, ducking her head and pressing her body against Peyton’s leg. Madelyne turned big blue eyes—the same eyes Luke saw in the mirror every morning—up toward the stranger at the door.
Her eyes widened and she shrank farther behind Peyton. Damn. The kid was scared of him. She didn’t know him.
And whose fault is that? a little voice whispered in his head.
That was the moment that cemented it for Luke. He might suck at being a father, might have just found out he even was a father, but no way was he going to let another four years go by with his kid thinking he was a scary stranger.
Peyton gave Madelyne a reassuring squeeze. “This is not a good time, Luke. We were just heading for the pool.”
Not that he’d expected some instant bond just because he and the kid shared some DNA. But her wide-eyed trepidation made him feel like an interloper.