They strolled along the tabby sidewalk, uneven from the shells that formed part of the concrete, worn by a century or two of foot traffic. Live oaks shaded them, and Sammy hopped carefully over a crack in the walk.
Concentrate on what you’re doing, she commanded herself. “Don’t you want to tell your father about your school?” she asked.
Sammy flicked a faintly rebellious look toward her. “That’s it.” He waved at the white frame building, set in its grove of palmettos, that had served the island’s children for over a hundred years. “I’m almost done with second grade.”
“Looks as if the building’s been there a hundred years.” Tyler said just what she’d been thinking, but it didn’t seem complimentary when he said it.
“It’s a good school.” She hoped she didn’t sound defensive. What if Tyler thought his son should go away to some private academy? The idea turned her ice cream to ashes.
“Equipped with the latest in chalkboards, no doubt.”
She felt diminished by his sarcasm, and that angered her. “Our classrooms have computers. We’re not exactly living in the dark ages here.”
“I like my school.” Sammy stopped, frowning at Tyler with an expression so like his father’s it nearly stopped her heart. “You shouldn’t put it down just because it’s not new and fancy.”
Tyler looked baffled, and little wonder. He probably hadn’t expected Sammy to pick up on the byplay between adults.
She was tempted to let him stew, but she couldn’t. If she didn’t take pity on Tyler’s efforts with Sammy, she would only hurt her son.
“Why don’t we have a game of catch.” She nodded toward the playground where island children had played under the spreading branches of the live oaks for years. “I brought the ball.” She pulled it from her bag and tossed it to Tyler, stepping onto the grass.
He caught it automatically. “I don’t think…”
She frowned him to silence. Didn’t he see she was trying to help him? “Sammy wants to play T-ball this summer. I’ll bet he could use some practice.”
“Sure. Right.” He swallowed the last of his cone and threw the ball to Sammy, then patted an imaginary glove. “Throw it in here, Sammy.”
Sammy lobbed it to Miranda instead. She didn’t miss the quick flare of irritation on Tyler’s face. Well, he couldn’t expect this to be simple, could he?
Temptation whispered in her ear again. It would be so easy to be sure Sammy didn’t warm up to his father. So easy, and so wrong. Even if it insured that Tyler would go away, she couldn’t do it.
Her throw went a little high, and Sammy had to reach for it. He wore a surprised look when he came down with the ball.
“Good catch, Sammy.” Tyler’s voice had just the right amount of enthusiasm. Sammy responded with a cautious smile.
Tyler blinked, his face softening with the effect of that smile. Her eyes stung with tears, and she was grateful for the sunglasses that shielded them. Tyler didn’t need to know that it moved her to see Sammy playing with his father.
That wasn’t the purpose of this little excursion, remember? You’re supposed to be showing Tyler what a happy life Sammy has here so he’ll soothe his conscience and go away.
Tyler’s comments about getting back to his business had confirmed what she’d already suspected—he’d turned into the same driven businessman his father had been. She’d known that would happen when he’d insisted they move back to Baltimore after his father’s death.
Their dreams of settling down on the island and starting a small business had vanished like the mist. Tyler hadn’t had time for that. Now the CEO of Winchester Industries probably didn’t like to take time for a simple game of catch.
“Try it this way.” Tyler walked over to Sammy, reaching toward him to correct his throw.
Sammy jerked away. “I don’t want to.”
“Sammy,” she began, but what could she say? Be polite to the father you’ve never seen before didn’t seem to cover it.
Her son frowned, first at her, then at Tyler. “Why do you want to play ball now? You never even wanted to see me before.”
Miranda’s heart thudded. There it was, the question she didn’t want to answer. But she didn’t have a choice.
She couldn’t look at Tyler. She didn’t even want to meet her son’s eyes, but she forced herself to. “Sammy, that’s not fair.”
“It is, too.” His fists curled. “He could’ve come, but he didn’t.”
“No, he couldn’t.” She felt Tyler’s gaze on her.
“Why not?” Sammy demanded.
Truth time was here, and she wasn’t ready for it. She had to be. “Your daddy didn’t know about you.”
Her son stared at her.
She licked dry lips. “I never told your father about you.” She reached a hand toward Sammy, but he took a step back. “Sugar, I thought it was best.”
The words sounded feeble to her own ears. Hurt and accusation battled in Sammy’s face. As for Tyler…she could almost think that was pity in Tyler’s eyes.
Chapter Three
“I have a proposition for you.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Miranda realized she could have phrased it better. Standing in the doorway to Tyler’s hotel room that evening had rattled her so much that she didn’t know what she was saying.
“A proposition?” Tyler looked as startled at her words as she probably did. “In that case, I guess you’d better come in.”
Clutching her bag with cold fingers, she stepped inside. They could hardly discuss Sammy’s relationship with his father at the house, where her son would wonder what they were talking about. Any public place was out of the question.
Tyler crossed the room to switch on another lamp against the darkness that pressed against the sliding glass balcony doors, giving her a moment to collect herself. She took in the sweep of plush, sand-colored carpet, the pale walls and the cream furniture with pastel floral upholstery. Dalton Resorts knew how to treat their wealthy guests.
“I haven’t been in the hotel before. It’s quite…elegant.” It was certainly the antithesis of the Dolphin Inn, but people who could afford this wouldn’t be staying at the inn anyway.
Tyler looked at her, hand still on the cream pottery lamp. He had traded the casual shirt and khakis he’d worn for the meeting with Sammy for a white dress shirt, open at the throat, and dark trousers. Maybe the dining room in the hotel required formal attire. Or maybe that was just how he felt comfortable now.
“I thought your brother-in-law worked for Dalton.”
“Luke did start out with Dalton, and he helped pick the site for the hotel.” Her brother-in-law had been a driven businessman, too, before her sister, Chloe, brought out a different side to him. “He and Chloe are running the youth center in Beaufort now.”
“That’s quite a change.” He strolled toward her, and she had the sense that he wasn’t in the least interested in what Chloe and Luke were doing. He was wondering what had brought her here tonight.
“Yes, well, they’re happy.” Chloe and Luke’s love was so bright that it almost hurt to look at them.
Tyler stopped, a bit too close for comfort, and she glanced past him. He’d converted an oval glass-topped table to a makeshift desk. It was