RaeAnne Thayne

Brambleberry Shores: The Daddy Makeover / His Second-Chance Family


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dessert down on the table. “I had better let him out.”

      “I’ll do it!” Chloe exclaimed. Her features—so much like her mother’s—were animated and excited.

      She had been remarkably well-behaved through dinner—no tantrums, no power struggles. It was a refreshing change, he thought. Sage Benedetto had a remarkably positive effect on her. He wasn’t sure what she did differently, but Chloe responded to her in a way his daughter hadn’t to anyone else in a long time.

      “Thanks, Chloe,” Sage said. “Just make sure the gate is closed around the yard so he can’t take off. He’s usually pretty good about staying on his own territory, but all bets are off if he catches sight of a cat.”

      Chloe paused at the door. “Can I ask Miss Galvez if I can look at the dolls while I’m downstairs?”

      Sage shifted her gaze to meet Eben’s. “You’ll have to ask your father that.”

      “Someone will have to clue me in. What dolls?”

      “The woman who left the house to me and to Anna Galvez had a huge doll collection. It takes up an entire room in Anna’s apartment now. I promised Chloe we could take a look at them before dinner, but time slipped away from us and then you arrived.”

      “Can I see it, Daddy?”

      “If Miss Galvez doesn’t mind showing you, I can’t see any reason why not.”

      “Yay!” Chloe raced out the door, though Conan shot ahead of her and Eben could hear his paws click furiously down the stairs.

      The moment they left, Eben realized he was alone with Sage—not a comfortable situation given the tension still simmering between them. She was obviously suddenly cognizant of that fact as well. She jerked to her feet and started clearing away their dinner dishes.

      He finished the last of his dessert and rose to help her. “Thank you again for dinner. I can’t remember a meal I’ve enjoyed more.”

      It was true, he realized with surprise. Chloe was usually in bed when he returned home from work, but on the rare occasions he dined with her, he typically found himself bracing for her frequent emotional outbursts.

      It had been wonderful to enjoy his daughter’s company under Sage’s moderating influence.

      Sage didn’t look convinced by his words. “It was only vegetarian lasagna. Probably nothing at all like you’re used to. You don’t have to patronize me.”

      Her words surprised a laugh from him. “I don’t think I could patronize you, even if I tried. I doubt anyone can. I mean it. I enjoyed the meal—and the company—immensely.”

      She studied him for a moment then nodded. “So did I.”

      “You sound surprised. It’s not very flattering, I must admit.”

      “I am surprised, I suppose. I don’t entertain a great deal. When I do, it’s usually friends in my own circle.”

      “I appreciate you making an exception in our case.”

      He was intensely aware of her, of the way her dangly earrings caught the lamplight, the smell of her, feminine and enticing, her mobile expressions. He wanted to kiss her again, with a fierce ache, though he knew it was impossible, not to mention extremely unwise.

      He didn’t want to destroy this fragile peace—especially when his intentions could never be anything other than a quick fling, something he guessed wasn’t typical for her, either.

      In an effort to cool his growing awareness, he searched his mind for a change of topic as he followed her into the small kitchen with his hands full of dishes.

      “Tell me the truth, now that Chloe is gone for a moment. How was she today?”

      Surprise widened her eyes at the question. “Fine. She’s a little energetic, but no worse than any of the other eight-year-olds at the camp. Better than some. She’s very sweet.”

      She studied him and he was certain some of his relief must have shown on his features.

      “You look like you expected a different answer.”

      He sighed and put the dishes down on the counter-top next to the sink. “I love my daughter, but I have to admit that sweet is not an adjective many people use to describe her these days.”

      “That surprises me. She seems to me a typical kid, just like the others in the class.”

      “I think you have an extraordinary rapport with her.”’

      “I’m not sure why that would be.”

      “I’m not, either. Chloe is…challenging. She’s bright and creative and funny most of the time, but she has these mood swings. Her mother’s death two years ago affected her strongly. She and Brooke were very close. Her mother doted on her—maybe too much.”

      “I don’t think you can ever love a child too much.”

      There was that stiffness in her voice again. “I don’t, either. Please don’t misunderstand. I only meant that losing her mother was a fierce and painful blow to Chloe. As a parent, I’m afraid I’m a poor substitute for my wife.”

      Her gaze flashed to his and he regretted exposing so much truth about himself.

      “I tried to give her some leeway for her grief for several months but I’m afraid I let her get away with too many things and now that’s her expectation all the time. In the last year and a half she’s been through four schools and a half-dozen nannies. She’s moody and unpredictable. Defiant one moment, deceptively docile the next.”

      Without really thinking about it, he started to load the dishes in the dishwasher. “The other morning was a perfect example,” he continued. “She could have been seriously hurt sneaking out so early. I wouldn’t do as she demanded the night before and stay out late hunting up seashells with her, so she countermanded me by sneaking out on her own.”

      She opened her mouth slightly then closed it again.

      “What were you going to say?” he pressed.

      “Nothing. Never mind.” She turned away to run water in the sink for the soiled dishes.

      Eben leaned against the counter next to her, enjoying her graceful movements.

      “You probably would have been right out there with her in the middle of the night with a flashlight and a bucket looking for sand dollars, wouldn’t you?”

      She gave him a sidelong look, then smiled. “Probably.”

      “I let her get away with too much right after Brooke died and I need to set some boundaries now. Children needs rules and structure.”

      “Is that the kind of childhood you had? Regimented, toe-the-line. Military school, right?”

      He laughed, though he heard the harsh note in it and wondered if she did as well. “Not quite. I would have given my entire baseball card collection for a little structure and discipline. My parents were of the if-it-feels-good-just-do-it school of thought. It destroyed them both and they nearly took me and my sister along with them. I can’t do that to Chloe.”

      Her hands paused in the sink and her eyes widened with sympathy. He shifted, uncomfortable. Where the hell had that come from? He didn’t share these pieces of his life with anyone. He wasn’t sure he’d ever even articulated that to Brooke. If he had, maybe she wouldn’t have expected so many things from him he wasn’t at all sure he had been capable of offering.

      He certainly had no business sharing them with Sage. She was quiet for a long moment, watching him out of intense brown eyes. The only sound was the rain clicking against the window and the soft sound of their mingled breathing.

      “I’m sorry,” she finally murmured.

      He shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I just don’t want to make the