her neck an extra squeeze.
He knew she had no idea what he had planned. But a boy shouldn’t grow up without a dad. One way or another he was going to get one. And if he got himself a dad, that meant he’d be getting his mom a man—whether she liked it or not!
Excitement made him wiggle impatiently as his mom buckled him into his car seat. Oh, yes, he had a mission…and that mission was to get a daddy.
Chapter One
Sinful.
Decadent.
These words fluttered through Marissa Criswell’s mind as she stretched languidly against the sun-warmed towel. Mason Bridge Beach, Florida, in late June. Three glorious weeks of sun and sand. Three glorious weeks of no work and all play.
She cracked open one eye and raised her head to check on her son. He sat at her feet, shoveling sand across her toes. His blond hair glistened in the sunlight, and his little features were somber with concentration.
Love swelled in her heart and she sent a small prayer heavenward, a prayer of thanks that her grandmother had gifted her with this vacation. Three
weeks of quality time with her son—that was the best thing of all. No hospital for her, no day care for him.
In the distance she could see the ocean waves, see the growing crowd setting up umbrellas and blankets between the water and her and Nathaniel’s spot. It was still early, but before long the beach would be filled with people seeking relief from the heat with a day at the waterfront.
She rested her head back down and sighed with pleasure. This was the first vacation she’d had in years. Even when she’d been pregnant, she’d worked until the day before delivery, then had gone back to work two weeks after Nathaniel was born.
Her grandmother had made all the arrangements. She’d arranged for Marissa to have the time off from the hospital, gotten the plane tickets and the motel room, then had presented Marissa with a fait accompli. It was the absolute best present Marissa had ever received in her entire life.
Realizing she no longer felt Nathaniel spooning sand across her feet, she once again opened her eyes and lifted her head. “Nathaniel,” she called to the little boy, who now sat about fifty feet away from her. “Come back here, sweetie,” she said.
Nathaniel didn’t acknowledge her, but rather stood and walked several more feet away, then plopped down in the sand once again.
“Nathaniel!” Reluctantly Marissa pulled herself up and off the blanket, pausing a moment to swipe sand from her body.
When she looked back at her son, a cry choked in her throat. In a single instant she saw the runner, a man clad only in a pair of jogging pants, racing hell-bent for leather and apparently not seeing the fair-haired child in his path.
Marissa’s scream ripped from her throat, piercing the calm of the morning. At the same moment the jogger apparently saw Nathaniel. He attempted to veer, but the maneuver went awry when Nathaniel stood and appeared to grab at the man’s legs.
As if in slow motion, the man fell and Marissa heard the sickening snap of a bone breaking, then the hard whack of his hand connecting with a piece of driftwood. He yelled, the hoarse roar of agonizing pain.
Nathaniel pointed to the prone man and grinned.
“Oh, dear God.” Marissa raced to where the man lay, his right leg at an awkward angle that could only mean a break. “Somebody call 911,” she cried to the crowd, then crouched next to the man, who was attempting to sit up. “Lie still,” she said. “Help is on the way.”
His eyes were a startling blue against his dark tan. Ebony whiskers covered his cheeks and chin and, coupled with his wild, thick hair, gave him the fierce look of a man on the edge. She couldn’t be sure if it was pain or anger that glittered in his eyes, made the blue look icy cold and hard as nails.
“That kid tried to kill me,” he said between clenched teeth.
Anger, Marissa decided. Definitely anger. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” As she looked at the hand that had hit the driftwood, she suspected he had a couple of broken fingers as well as the broken leg.
Guilt tore through her. It was her fault. All her fault. She should have been watching Nathaniel more closely. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” she exclaimed.
“What are you sorry for?” he asked, his forehead wrinkled into a grimace of pain.
“It was my kid…my son.”
“What do you call him? The terminator?” he growled.
Marissa flushed, and knelt down. He roared again and she realized her knee was planted on his good hand. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She moved her knee off his hand and accidentally hit him in the ribs.
“Jeez, lady, just move back before you kill me,” he snarled.
Any further conversation was cut short as paramedics arrived on the scene. They loaded the man onto a stretcher and headed back toward the waiting ambulance.
Marissa grabbed her things, picked up Nathaniel and hurried after them. Moments later, in her rental car, she followed the ambulance to the local hospital.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered to herself as she tailed the big white vehicle. How had the morning that had started off so wonderful suddenly gone so wrong? At least they weren’t using a siren, which meant his injuries weren’t life threatening.
Nathaniel seemed completely unconcerned about the chaos he’d created. He jabbered to himself, smiling as if amused by the entire scene.
Marissa wasn’t amused. She was scared. What if it was worse than a broken leg? Although a broken leg was certainly bad enough! What if he decided to sue her? If push came to shove, he could probably take her for everything she was worth.
She smiled ruefully at this thought. Everything she owned wouldn’t add up to a hill of beans. She had a little over two hundred dollars in a Christmas fund account and maybe a hundred dollars in coins in Nathaniel’s piggy bank. She didn’t own a house and would be lucky if her old clunker car lasted another thousand miles.
Her rueful smile faded as she thought of his injuries. What if the man was a marathon runner training for the Olympics? It would be impossible for him to continue his training with a cast on his leg.
Or maybe he was a bouncer at one of the many local nightclubs in the area, she speculated as she thought of his broad shoulders. How would he tell people that he’d been annihilated by a two-year-old?
With a broken leg and broken fingers, no matter what he did for a living, he’d be more than inconvenienced by his injuries. He’d be incapacitated.
Guilt once again ripped through her. If only she’d been watching Nathaniel more carefully. If only she hadn’t closed her eyes, even for a brief moment.
The ambulance pulled into the emergency entrance of the hospital and Marissa quickly parked in the visitors’ lot. She paused only long enough to put on her bathing suit cover-up, then she grabbed Nathaniel and hurried into the hospital.
She was just in time to see the man being wheeled through the double doors and into what she assumed was an examination room.
Surprisingly, the waiting room was empty. She held Nathaniel in her lap and sank onto one of the plastic chairs. She wasn’t sure what she intended to do, but she had to make sure the man was okay, had to extend her apologies once again for the freak accident that had occurred.
She knew she should offer to pay his medical bills, and her heart sank at the very thought. She knew how expensive the bill would probably be. Emergency-room treatment never came cheap.
She’d have to somehow borrow the money. She hated to have to go to her grandmother, who had already been more than generous in giving her this vacation.
Rubbing a hand across her forehead,