a watch you can return to the store because it doesn’t match your suit.”
“If you haven’t noticed, I don’t wear a watch or own a suit.” He tossed her a grin, slipping into the familiar role of class flirt. “And I’m still a big kid myself.”
“That particular fact I noticed.”
For some strange reason, the fact that Peyton had noticed anything at all about him made Luke smile. Years ago, he’d barely known she existed, except as a thorn in his side when he’d been trying to be alone with Susannah. But now, standing in the water with this older, sexier, more intriguing Peyton—
“Auntie P? Can I play with my other dolls now?”
“Sure, sure.” Peyton strode out of the pool, reaching for Madelyne as the little girl was heading for the table where Peyton had placed their things. “Wait, let me get the bag for you.”
Luke’s gaze followed the cascade of water running down Peyton’s back, over her buttocks, down her shapely legs. There were a few things that improved with age. Cheddar cheese. Red wine. And Peyton Reynolds.
He reminded himself he wasn’t here for Peyton or for anything other than his daughter. He was trying to be responsible, for once in his life, and being responsible didn’t include lusting after his kid’s aunt.
He was a father now, whether he was ready or not, and that meant being a whole other person than the one he had been for the past twenty-six years. He could only pray he didn’t screw it up.
Peyton woke up on Monday morning with her stomach in knots. She lay in the hotel bed, staring up at the white popcorn ceiling for a good ten minutes before she heard Madelyne stirring beside her. Ever since Susannah’s death, Maddy had slept curled up against Peyton, one hand on Peyton’s arm, as if she was afraid she, too, would disappear.
Peyton placed a gentle kiss on Maddy’s temple, then lay against the pillows and did what she always did before putting that first foot on the floor—she ran through a quick mental to-do list, setting goals and ticking off tasks. The activity almost always energized her for the day ahead, infused her with that can-do spirit that had fueled her rise in one of the biggest interior design firms in Baltimore.
Today, though, lying there with a sleeping Maddy tucked beside her, the image of innocence, that to-do list was short and empty, sending a rising tide of panic through Peyton’s stomach.
Two days ago, Peyton had been sitting in her boss’s office, listening to him tell her that she had screwed up on a big job—missed an important deadline—and that she needed to get her act together if she hoped to stay at Winston Interior Design. “Take two weeks off,” he’d said, “get some reliable child care in place, a maid to do the laundry and a priority list that puts your job back at the top, and then come back.”
In other words, quit running out of the office because Maddy had a meltdown at preschool. Stop coming in late because Maddy hadn’t wanted to eat breakfast or get dressed. Quit leaving early because Maddy had been crying on the phone when Peyton called to check on her.
Not to mention how the added responsibilities and worries had taken a toll on Peyton’s sleeping and eating habits. She was a walking zombie at best most days. As much as she needed the sleep, the break, the mere thought of a day that stretched long and empty scared her. They had the trip to the zoo, then lunch, then a trip to the playground, dinner, bath, followed by the endless hours after Maddy fell asleep and Peyton lay in bed, thinking. Thinking far too much.
From the day the police had come to the door with their long faces and somber tones, Peyton had worried ten times more about Maddy than she ever had before. How would Peyton make this work? Would she be a good mother? A strong role model? Had she made the right choice coming here? Or would these days in Stone Gap make Maddy withdraw even more?
Peyton stared at the ceiling, her heart heavy, her chest tight. Suzie, why did you leave her with me? I’m not a mom. I don’t always know the right thing to do.
Susannah had been a distracted mother at best, one who seemed perpetually in need of money or help, but she had loved her daughter fiercely, and Peyton always believed that when it came down to the wire, her sister would put Maddy above everything else. In the end, Susannah hadn’t had the chance.
Now Luke had a chance to step up and be a parent, but Peyton worried he would let her down—and worse, let Maddy down. If there was one thing Maddy desperately needed, it was structure, stability. Luke had never been the kind of guy who built fences and planted vegetable gardens and ate dinner at six.
She needed to remember that when she met Luke at the zoo in a little while, and not delude herself into thinking that just because the man was handsome, and seeing him caused a little flutter in Peyton’s gut, that the three of them were forming some kind of happy little family. She was doing all this for her niece—not to resurrect some silly teenage crush.
All Peyton wanted was to help Maddy become a happy little girl again. Stone Gap was the best place Peyton knew of for Maddy. Here, where the town sprawled among the lush green landscape, there were memories in the streets and the houses. Memories of Susannah, of Peyton, and a foundation for Maddy, who had stood on shifting sand for far too long.
Staying in bed wasn’t going to get her any closer to that goal, so Peyton got up, got ready, then woke Madelyne. “After breakfast, we’re going to the zoo with my friend Luke,” Peyton said, as she tugged Madelyne’s nightgown over her head and helped her slip into shorts and a T-shirt.
“Are you gonna be there, Auntie P?”
Peyton nodded. “I sure am.”
“The whole time?”
“Every single second.” Peyton paused in helping Maddy dress to hold her arms and grab her attention. “I promise.”
Relief washed over Maddy’s features. “Is there gonna be monkeys at the zoo?”
“Monkeys and lions and giraffes,” Peyton said, lifting one of Maddy’s legs to slip on a sock, then repeated with the other foot. “And one very pesky monkey in particular.” She tapped a finger on Maddy’s nose, and the little girl almost—almost—giggled.
“I’s not a monkey, Auntie P. I’s a big girl.”
Peyton pretended it didn’t bother her that the jokes that used to make Maddy smile had lost their touch, that Maddy’s sparkle had gone as flat as a pancake. Time, the psychologist had said. Time will help. How much time was the question that bothered Peyton in those dark moments late at night when she was struggling to be sure she was doing the right thing. “Go get your shoes on, monkey, and we’ll go to breakfast. We have to be at the zoo at nine-thirty.”
Maddy, of course, couldn’t tell time yet and had no idea if it was nine-thirty or five-thirty. But Peyton liked having the schedule, liked saying it out loud, as if putting the numbers in the air would cement the plan in place. When things ran on time and as planned, it gave Peyton room to breathe.
So at eight-twenty, they left the cozy room at the Stone Gap Hotel, took Peyton’s car to downtown Stone Gap and walked into The Good Eatin’ Café, pretty much the only breakfast choice in town. The second the door opened, Peyton regretted her choice. Stone Gap was a small town with long memories and gossipy residents. All she needed was someone recounting Susannah’s wild past in front of Maddy.
“Oh, you cute little button!” Vivian Hoffman, the owner of the diner, came bustling around the counter, a petite gray-haired woman who had worked at The Good Eatin’ Café for so long, Peyton figured she had to be close to a hundred, though she moved at the speed of people half her age. Vivian bent down in front of Maddy. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Madelyne.” She drew herself up. “Madelyne Reynolds.”
“Oh, what a cutie. And as serious as a judge