Falling for the Single Dad (10 page)

Chapter Ten

“C
ar-o-line...?”

She clutched the cell phone to her ear. “Izzie, what's wrong?”

“Daddy burned the c-cookies...” Sobbing hard, Izzie hiccuped.

“I'm sure it was an accident. He didn't mean—”

“You don't understand,” Izzie wailed. “Now I don't have anything to bring. Church ladies are s-supposed to bring something to the baby shower.”

A fresh round of sobbing. “I'm a church lady, too.” Further crying commenced.

“Izzie?” No response. “Isabelle.” Caroline used her sternest professorial voice. “Let me talk to your daddy.”

More hiccuping. “H-he can't come to the phone right now. He's running up and down the stairs in the lighthouse.”

“Why in the world is he doing that?”

“Because he's mad at himself, he said.” Izzie hiccuped. “And so he won't cuss.”

Caroline held the phone away from her mouth so she could laugh.

“Izz—?” She regained control of herself. “You listen to me. You tell your daddy to bring you to the cabin. We'll whip up something before the party starts. How's that?”

The waterworks ceased as abruptly as the wind in the eerie calm in the eye of a hurricane.

“Really?” Izzie's voice quivered.

“You'd be doing me a favor. I'd completely forgotten about bringing hors d'oeuvres to the baby shower.”

“We don't have to bring those oar-things. Just food.”

Caroline smiled into the receiver. “Good to know, Ladybug. You've saved me from a Southern faux pas.”

Izzie sighed. “I don't know exactly what that is, but I think Daddy made me try it once, and I didn't like it.”

Tears of merriment rolled down Caroline's cheeks in her effort to preserve Izzie's dignity.

“I think you're absolutely right, Ladybug. No faux pas for us. But I have a great recipe we can make together. I'll text your dad the ingredients if you guys can stop at the grocery store on the way.”

“Roger that, Caroline.”

Caroline imagined the redheaded little girl saluting her in the smoky haze of the cottage kitchen. “See you soon.”

“Thanks, Turtle Lady.”

As Izzie clicked off, Caroline laid her forehead on the countertop, free to give in to her mirth.

Thirty minutes later at the sound of knocking, she opened the cabin door to father and daughter on the porch. Izzie waved. A grocery bag in each hand, Weston just looked sheepish. And endearing.

Caroline ushered them inside. Izzie—being Izzie—strode toward the kitchen like she owned the place.

“Is that a new cologne you're sporting, Weston?” Caroline sniffed the fabric of his shirt as he lumbered past. “I've got to say it's certainly a new scent for you.”

She cocked her head and tapped her finger on her chin. “Smoky with hints of spice and overtones of...” She made a show of enlarging her pupils. “Oatmeal?”

“Ha-ha.” But a smile played at the edges of his lips.

“Recipe gone wrong? Don't worry. It could happen to anyone.” She stopped in her tracks for dramatic effect. “Oh, wait. This only seems to happen to you, doesn't it, Commander Clark?”

He moved so quickly she found herself pressed against the wall of the entryway, rimmed in on either side by grocery bags and his arms. A nervous giggle escaped from her throat.

“I told you from the beginning, Dr. Duer, cooking is not one of my more notable skills.”

From this up close and personal, the blue in his eyes blazed, full of her. Her gaze flicked to the strong, angular line of his jaw. Beneath the palm of her hand against his shirt, she felt his heart hammering with a beat to match her own. And if he hadn't been halfway holding her up against the wall, she wasn't sure her knees could've supported her.

“And this, I'm guessing, is what you regard as one of your hidden talents, Commander Clark?” Her voice emerged husky.

The blue in his eyes went opaque. “Why don't you find out?” He drew closer till only inches separated his mouth from hers.

His breath mixed with hers. She inhaled. Her lips parted—

“Daddy! Caroline! Let's get this cooking show on the road,” Izzie bellowed from the kitchen.

His head slumped forward to rest on the pine-paneled wall. “My daughter, the ultimate chaperone.”

Caroline let a breath of air trickle between her lips. Then she laughed. “Coming, Ladybug!”

He released her from the circle of his arms. “Thank you, Caroline. This means a lot to Izzie.”

“Don't thank me too soon.” Caroline headed toward the kitchen. “I'm no Honey when it comes to cooking. But with this old recipe of my mother's, I think Izzie and I can hold our own with Kiptohanock's finest.”

Plunking the bags onto the counter, Weston removed the ingredients.

Switching on the water faucet, Caroline washed the cucumber at the sink. “What were y'all trying to bake? Something really hard?”

Izzie dragged the counter stool to be beside Caroline. “Just the frozen pop-and-bake cookies from the grocery store.”

Caroline tore off a paper towel from the roll. “And they let you command men, run a cutter and rescue people in the Coast Guard,
Commander
Clark?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds as if you doubt my abilities.” He grinned. “You're not so bad at performing rescue operations, either.”

She placed the cucumber on the cutting board and withdrew a paring knife from the butcher block. “So you're admitting you need a rescue?”

He leaned against the countertop. “I guess I am, and I'm not too proud to admit it. Long time coming, huh?”

Long time, indeed. For her, too.

Weston Clark looked way too good in his jeans and T-shirt. She found it difficult to stare at him, slice a cucumber and, at the same time, not lose a finger.

Izzie propped her chin in her hand. “What's this recipe called?”

Caroline's attention once more focused on not losing a finger. “Cucumber rounds. It's elegant party food.”

“Whew!” Izzie blew out a breath. “Long as we're not making those foe pa thingies.”

Faux pas?
he mouthed.

Caroline's lips twitched. “No faux pas here, for sure. Not on my watch.”

* * *

One thing led to the other and before any of them realized, it was time to dress for the baby shower. Weston went home to do a quick search and grab of Izzie's dress and other fashion accessories per Caroline's instructions.

She and Izzie disappeared into the one bedroom at the cabin while he finished plating the open-faced cucumber rounds. Which he nearly dropped when Caroline emerged in her brand-new party dress. He settled for his mouth dropping open.

“Wow.” He made an effort to close his mouth. To be safe, he placed the crystal tray on the counter and out of harm's way.

Her dress was indeed similar to Izzie's, except an all grown up and amazing version. For once, she'd allowed her hair to remain loose and long, where it waved around her shoulders.

“You clean up very nice.” And he could've kicked himself for the backhanded compliment. When what he meant to say was she looked incredibly beautiful as always, only more so.

“A step above my turtle T-shirts.” She gave him an uncertain smile. “But Izzie is the star attraction.”

She made a sweeping motion toward the bedroom. “May I present Miss Isabelle Alice Clark?”

Izzie's head popped around the doorframe before the rest of her followed. “Hey, Daddy.”

“You look gorgeous.”

Izzie touched a hand to the black silk headband. “How do you like my hair? Caroline fixed it.” The red curls no longer frizzed, but artistically framed her small face. “Don't I look like a real church lady now?”

“A real lady is exactly what you are.” He opened his arms but stopped. “Am I allowed to hug the tower princess or will that mess up your hair?”

Izzie looked at Caroline.

Caroline smiled. “I think hugs are always in fashion.”

He swept his daughter into an embrace. “Thanks for everything, Caroline.”

“My pleasure. It's been so much fun tapping in to our inner girly-girl, hasn't it, Izzie?”

“Women like us, Daddy, don't have to be either or.”

“Either or what?”

“Girly or brainy.” Izzie gave him a firm nod. “We are both.”

“Yes.” He made sure his gaze encompassed Caroline, too. “You are.”

A blush stained Caroline's cheeks.

“Can I give you ladies a ride to the fellowship hall?”

“That'd be great, if you don't mind.”

“What guy wouldn't be proud to escort two such lovely ladies to the party? Besides, a bunch of us guys are going to keep Sawyer company at the diner while you sip punch or whatever ladies do at these shindigs.”

Five minutes later, Izzie squeezed into the seat behind the extended cab. Weston held the tray while Caroline slid her long, slim legs into the passenger seat and buckled the seat belt. He handed off the tray to Caroline and got in on the other side.

Signs posted on Highway 13 advertised the upcoming Wachapreague Fireman's Carnival next week. And he deliberately chose the roundabout way from the Duer Lodge to Kiptohanock. Izzie kept a running commentary going about her favorite foods and rides at the Virginia State Fair near Richmond, where her grandparents lived.

“What about you, Caroline?” Izzie paused for breath. “What's the best thing about the fireman's carnival?”

“It's been a long time since I attended my last fireman's carnival.”

He palmed the wheel as he turned off the highway. “I doubt much has changed since then. It's one of the things I love about the Shore—how so much remains constant.”

“Which brings problems of its own. Change doesn't always have to be bad.” She gestured at the passing glimpses of ocean between fields of soybeans and isolated white farmhouses. “Like the marine rescue center.”

“True,” he acknowledged. “But constants such as family-focused, Eastern Shore friendliness make 'come heres like Izzie and me feel we've finally found a forever home.”

“And then there's the food.” Izzie's stomach growled as if on cue.

He caught Caroline's gaze, and they smiled at each other. He forced his eyes onto the road as they bumped over the small, picturesque bridge near Quinby. “My favorite is the ham biscuits.”

“I like the cotton candy.”

Caroline balanced the tray in her lap. “My favorite is the Ferris wheel.”

Pulling into the church parking lot, he jumped out and made his way around to Caroline. Holding the tray aloft, he clasped Caroline's smooth hand in his and helped her alight from the vehicle.

Spotting Amelia and baby Patrick on the steps, Izzie ran over to greet them. “Patrick's not a lady. What's he doing here?”

Amelia fluttered her fingers at them. “His daddy's on duty, and his grandpa Seth is on Max duty.”

Izzie squared her shoulders. “Right. 'Cause this is for ladies. Church ladies. Are you coming or what, Caroline?”

Amelia put a hand on Izzie's back. “Why don't we go ahead? I could use your help in getting Patrick settled before the rest of the guests arrive, Izz.” She winked at Weston as she shuttled Izzie inside.

He'd always liked Amelia Scott, wife of a fellow Coastie. He loved Izzie to pieces, but time alone with the beautiful vet was hard to come by.

Caroline, he noticed, hadn't let go of his hand. And he didn't want to let go of hers, either.

“I guess I should go inside and make sure everything is ready when Honey arrives.”

He needed to say something, but he was so out of practice with this dating thing. Scarier than any rescue in the Bering Sea.

Caroline ran her tongue over her plum-tinted lips. “I appreciate the ride...”

Weston broke out into a cold sweat. This was way scarier than dealing with his drill sergeant at boot camp. He felt Caroline pulling her hand out of his grasp. His heart pounded. All she could say was no.

Not true. She could laugh. She could stare at him like he'd grown horns. She could shatter his heart into a million pieces.

“I'm sure I can catch a ride home with Amelia...” She released his hand and reached for the tray.

Maybe he misread the signals. Maybe she didn't like him at all. Not in a romantic way.

She'd said she wanted to be friends. Maybe her only interest lay in his motherless daughter. His pulse ratcheted.

He held on to the tray. She tugged. He refused to let go. She frowned at him. It was now or never. He took a deep breath.

“Would you go with me to the fireman's carnival Thursday night? Izzie's going with Max and Amelia. It would be just you and me.” He gasped for air.

She blinked at him. “What?”

He gulped. “Just you and me.” The tray in his hand wobbled.

She took it from him. He let her.

“You said that already.” She pursed her lips. “Just so I'm clear, are you asking me on a date?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or are you apologizing for Izzie not being able to join our group?”

“No...” He swallowed. This was harder than he remembered. “This would be a date. If that's okay with you.”

He had a sudden and horrendous thought. “You're not dating, seeing or engaged to someone, are you?” He held his breath.

She lifted her chin. “No, to all the above.”

He exhaled. “That's good. And Thursday night?”

“I'd love to go to the carnival with you on Thursday.”

He leaned over the tray she held between them. “And what I failed to make clear at the cabin is that I think you look fantastic in that dress. I think you are a wonderful person, too.”

Caroline shook her head. “I'm not so sure about that.”

“I am. I've watched how you're drawn to help the hurting—the turtles, my daughter.” He stared into her eyes. “And me.”