Daddy's Little Memento

And promised himself he’d never father another child and risk this pain and loss again.

Samantha pretty much hated his guts because of the custody issue, yet she recognized his pain and offered comfort unconditionally. What an amazing woman. He admired her courage and selflessness. For that reason he revealed more than he normally would.

A cloud moved in front of the sun. The breeze turned chilly in an instant. And Gabe began to wiggle. He hit Alex on the top of the head. “Down man.”

Samantha stepped back and looked up, first at him, gently gauging his emotional state, then with a nod and a rueful smile, she moved her gaze up to Gabe.

“What’s wrong, little man, did we ignore you? Did the duckies swim away?” She retrieved the bag of bread crumbs from the ground where they’d fallen during the brief embrace and handed Gabe a palmful. “The duckies will come back.”

“No duckies!” Gabe threw the bread crumbs down. The crumbs rained around Alex and Samantha, most of them lodging in Alex’s dark hair. But not for long. Gabe hit Alex on the head demanding to be let down, sending scratchy crumbs down his shirt collar. “Down man!”

Alex happily complied.

Samantha immediately swooped Gabe up and deposited him in his stroller parked near a picnic table on the grass. “Bad boy.” She admonished as she tucked the blankets around his legs. “You don’t hit.”

“Bad man,” Gabe countered, sending Alex a teary-eyed glare. High pink spots heated his cheeks.

“Good daddy,” she corrected, “he helped us feed the duckies.” Gabe began to cry. Samantha dug out a bottle for him then laid the seat back on the stroller. In seconds Gabe lay quietly sucking, eyes closed.

“Sorry about that.” Samantha turned her attention to Alex, swiping at his shoulders and hair to help remove crumbs. “He tires easily when he’s teething.”

“No harm,” Alex assured her. Unless she kept touching him. He could only stand so much petting before his body reacted like the red-blooded man he was.

Soft hands caressing his chest and arms, long fingers running through his hair, the scent of honeysuckle and woman made it hard to think or to consider the other families occupying the park and sports center.

He took one huge step back before reason completely deserted him and he laid her down on the grass right here and now. Bending at the waist, he shook his head in a pretense of getting rid of bread crumbs. In reality he needed the blood back in his head.

Because watching her bend over the stroller, seeing her tend the fussy baby, feeling her hands on his body gave him some fanciful notions. Like maybe taking her home, as well as taking his son.

When he stood up and the idea still held appeal, he realized he had something to consider.

Samantha watched Alex take a seat at the picnic table. Sighing a mixture of frustration and relief, she joined him. Both of them sat facing the pond. If he hadn’t stepped away when he did, she’d have jumped him.

Well, maybe not. Her restraint may have held. But she wouldn’t bet money on it. The man was hot. Steaming. And she’d gotten carried away with the feel of those hard muscles, broad shoulders, silky hair…Okay, stop.

She waved a hand in front of her face, pretending to chase off a bug. When had the day turned so warm?

“Have you been married?” he asked suddenly.

“No,” she answered, the simple truth her second biggest regret. She wanted nothing more than a loving husband, children and a dog. A real family. Her family. “I was engaged once. It ended when my mother died, and I got custody of Sarah. My fiancé decided he was too young to be the father of a twelve year old.”

His eyebrows lifted, and he assessed her from top to bottom and back again, lingering appreciatively on the valley and slopes of her hips and bust. She shifted restlessly, feeling the weight of his gaze as she would a caress.

“Fool.” When he returned his attention to her face, desire showed in his eyes, but his voice held disbelief. “You don’t look old enough to have been Sarah’s guardian. She was twelve, how old were you?”

Samantha took the question as a compliment though Sarah’s voluptuous curves always made her appear more mature than she’d actually been.

“I’m thirty-one. I’d just turned nineteen when our mother died.”

Behind narrowed eyes she saw him calculating ages and dates. The results hit him hard. “Lord, I’m thirty-six. She was little more than a child.”

Samantha shook her head. “Sarah always rushed life as if she couldn’t get through it fast enough. She prided herself on looking older, acting older, pretending she was older. She hadn’t been a child in a long time.”

He looked unconvinced.

“She was twenty-three.” Because Samantha knew Sarah wouldn’t appreciate the importance being given her age, she defended her sister’s choices. And that would be the end of her arguments. “Well beyond the age of consent. There’s no need to beat yourself up.”

Alex slowly accepted the truth in her words. The woman he remembered had been vibrant and assured. She’d known what she wanted and how to get it. For a couple of days, at a time when he needed it, what she’d wanted had been him.

Or more specifically what he could give her. How ironic he’d been on the island to distract himself from the news that barely a year after their divorce his ex-wife had given her new husband a baby girl. The news had him mourning his daughter all over again. And he’d gone to the island to forget.

Only to be used again.

No, he had nothing to apologize for.

“So you were engaged once.” He brought the conversation back to Samantha. “Did you leave anyone special back in Phoenix?”

“Special?” she repeated ruefully. “No. I’d been seeing someone for two years. He lasted six weeks after Gabe came to live with me.”

Alex began to see a pattern developing, one that explained a lot. “Samantha, you must have known when you moved to Paradise Pines and introduced Gabe to me there’d be a chance I’d seek custody.”

Dropping her gaze from his, she stared out over the pond the weight of the world heavy in her eyes. “I knew,” Samantha agreed. “I just never believed it would happen. In my experience men usually have the opposite reaction. My sister Sarah’s father left the country after my mom told him she was pregnant. So, no, I never seriously considered the thought of you wanting Gabe.”

Over the next three weeks, Social Services appeared several times for surprise visits. Samantha did her best to make a good impression. She locked a smile in place, answered all the questions—no matter how personal—with good grace and maintained friendly chatter for all she was worth.

And as soon as the thin, cheerless woman left, Samantha worried that she’d talked too much, smiled too much, tried too hard.

Alex appeared three more times to visit with Gabe. Samantha cooked dinner for him once, and he took them out once. All very civilized, considering they were at war with each other.

The third time he came around, he took them to Gram’s for Sunday dinner and a birthday celebration for Gabe. Earlier in the day, Samantha had taken Gabe to the pond for a picnic of his favorite foods, ending with cupcakes and a handful of gifts. He’d been excited by the plastic building blocks, but she’d felt let down. She’d wanted to give him a puppy.

The center of attention at Gram’s, he officially met all his uncles, except the second-oldest Sullivan. A Lt. Commander in the navy, Brock Sullivan rarely made it home for family events.

Alex’s grandmother and his cousin Mattie went out of their way to make Samantha feel comfortable.

“We’re so glad you brought Gabe into our lives,” Gram said. “I’m sorry for the loss of your sister.”

“Thank you. It’s very generous of you to have a party for Gabe.”

Gram’s smile lit up her face. “My pleasure. We haven’t had a baby in the family since Ford was in diapers.” She chatted on, regaling Samantha with family history.

Samantha found it interesting that Alex’s father named his six boys alphabetically to help him keep track, beginning with Alex and ending with Ford. Though the twins Derrick and Everett went by Rick and Rett. Samantha realized her sister had honored the Sullivan tradition by naming her son Gabe.

Though a little overwhelmed at being surrounded by so many Sullivans, Samantha enjoyed the impromptu party. Especially since Gabe thrived under all the masculine attention.

“Time for presents.” Mattie began to gather up used cake plates. “Cole, can you bring in the gifts?”

A few minutes later Gabe tore into a pile of gaily wrapped packages. He shrieked and giggled and wanted to stop and play with each new gift. Alex watched from behind the blue Victorian-style sofa, involved but distant.

Finally, Gabe reached the last gift, a box bigger than him. He peeled back the paper, then Ford cut open the box and lifted out a life-sized, stuffed, rocking dog.

“Doggy!” Gabe’s eyes grew huge and he immediately climbed on and began rocking.

Alex had bought Gabe a dog.

Samantha met Alex’s benevolent gaze across the room and her heart twisted. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The whole evening left her feeling torn. Fear and worry at war with love and loyalty.

She loved the welcome the Sullivans were giving Gabe. The fact that Alex had noted and made arrangements to celebrate Gabe’s birthday were exactly the actions she’d hoped for in a father when she brought Gabe to California. Yet the same thoughtful actions were what the courts would be assessing in their determination of who gained custody of Gabe.

When she compared her building blocks and cupcakes to Alex’s rocking dog and three-layer, double-chocolate birthday cake, she despaired. Because if she were the judge, she knew which way she’d rule.

Alex stood talking with the twins, but watched out of the corner of his eye while Samantha gathered Gabe’s gifts into the large empty box. She bent one way then another, making Alex’s mouth go dry at the enticing site of her pretty butt. Deliberately, he dragged his gaze away from the temptation she offered, frowning when he spied his brothers Rick and Rett standing together, arms crossed over their chests, enjoying the same view.

The twins ran the family jewelry store, Sullivans’. Rick handled the business end of things while Rett controlled the creative side. Neither encroached on the other’s territory, but together they’d made Sullivans’ the most prestigious jewelry store in San Diego. Last year, Now San Diego magazine had named both men on their top ten eligible bachelors list.

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