His Brown-Eyed Girl

Charlotte screeched and scampered behind Addy, where she proceeded to crank up a good wail.

Addy curved a hand around the child’s shoulder and held her to the back of her thigh. Charlotte wrapped her chubby arms around Addy’s leg, causing the terry cloth to part. Addy felt the cool night air on her bare thighs and tried to tug the robe closed. As she jerked the bottom closed, she felt the bodice part. She let go of the child, pulling both parts closed and clutching them as she faced the huge man filling up her doorway. “Stop yelling at her. Please.”

Lucas stilled, shifting in his boots, eyeing the exact spot where she held tight to the fabric. His gaze lowered slightly before rising to her face. “I’m sorry, but she scared me. I sent Chris over for your list, and after I paid the pizza guy, I couldn’t find Charlotte.”

The little girl still cried, holding fast to Addy. “As you can see, your yelling is not helping the situation.”

“She’s not supposed to leave our house without Momma,” Chris said, folding his arms, very adultlike. He was quite the little parent.

“Mommy! I want my mommy!” Charlotte wailed, her little body trembling against Addy’s leg.

“Here.” Addy bent and scooped the child into her arms, praying she had not just shown her promised land to the two males in her foyer, and strode toward the living room on her left. Making calming noises, she stroked the little girl’s back. “Shh, shh, Charlotte. Your mommy will be home soon.”

The child hid her face in the curve of Addy’s neck and squeezed her tighter. Addy sank onto the flowered couch, carefully tucking her robe around her and glanced at the two men standing silently in the foyer. She jerked her head, indicating they follow her, and tried not to worry about the front door standing wide-open, an invitation to the outside world.

Lucas pulled the door shut and nudged Chris toward where Addy sat.

“What?” Chris pulled back. “No, I wanna go. I’m hungry. Besides, I still gotta do some math.”

Lucas nodded. “Go then. Three slices of pizza only. No soda.”

“Cool. Later, Addy.” Chris didn’t wait for her response as he slid out the door, closing it with a loud bang.

Addy couldn’t stop herself from eyeing the unlocked dead bolt. A second later she lifted her gaze to Lucas who noticed her preoccupation with the door, but hopefully thought she worried about the force the ten-year-old had used.

He walked into her living room, gaze darting left then right before once again landing on her.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas said, ducking his chin slightly. “I didn’t mean to scare her. Or you.”

The irony was Addy wasn’t scared.

Nervous to be practically naked in the room with a man she felt an uncanny attraction toward? Yes. Scared? No.

And that thought surprised the hell out of her.

She should be terrified of a man storming into the place she felt safest, yelling, disrupting, darting glances at the places that made her very much different from him.

Moments before she had been terrified.

The letter from Angola had been sent to terrorize her, and her heart still thudded from the adrenaline of pounding down the stairs and being startled by Charlotte. But Lucas arriving, filling up the foyer with his strength and somewhat sweet failing at being a caregiver stilled her. So odd, yet so welcome in the face of what she’d experienced earlier.

Lucas quieted her trembling.

“I know you didn’t,” Addy murmured, stroking Charlotte’s back again. “But you are a large man and somewhat frightening to a small girl.”

“I apologized. I don’t know what else to say.”

Addy shook her head and cuddled the little girl who sank into her, snuffling but no longer sobbing. Something sweet and tender toward the child awoke within Addy. Having her mother leave her with someone Charlotte didn’t know had to be traumatic. “I know you don’t know what to say, but you have to try on her shoes. She’s young and missing her mother. She doesn’t understand what’s going on, only that you scare her with your scowls and anger.”

Something in his eyes softened, something different glowing within. “But I don’t scare a big girl like you?”

Chapter Three

LUCAS WATCHED ADDY as she held Charlotte, her elegant fingers stroking the child’s back. Rich hair fell in dark hanks around her serious face, and he had to practice extreme self-discipline not to slide his gaze to her bare thighs. Something about the turn of a calf, the delicacy of a knee and the sleekness of a woman’s thigh got him every time. Total leg man.

And the glimpse of soft curve of breast covered by the child’s golden ringlets wasn’t helping any.

“Should I be afraid of you?” Addy asked, her gaze earnest and steady. Flirty hadn’t worked on her.

“No.”

“But Charlotte is afraid, Chris is out of control and, from what little I’ve seen of the oldest, he’s declared you the enemy,” Addy said.

He chewed on that nugget. Of course she was right, but could he out and out admit he was a failure? “Charlotte has said time and again I’m big...but I’m not much larger than her father.”

“But Ben’s her father. You’re a stranger to her.”

He shoved a hand through hair in need of a trim—he hadn’t had time to pop by the barber before he’d left Rotan. Moment of truth. “Okay. You’ve got me. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Addy’s lips twitched but her gaze didn’t hold victory. Wasn’t like she hadn’t clued in to his incompetence within seconds of meeting him. “Takes a big man to admit it. No pun intended, of course.”

He allowed his lips to curve upward by a centimeter. “It’s obvious.”

“Pretty much.” The child had stilled in Addy’s lap and lay heavy against her body, seemingly content to have her warmth and calming influence. Again, he was struck by the way Addy soothed those around her even as she herself often looked spooked.

Why did she continue to look toward the door? Maybe he made her nervous and she was subconsciously ushering him toward the exit? Yet her words didn’t rush him out, and she’d invited him into the living area.

“I thought I could handle a few kids—maybe not the evil cat that jumps on my legs in the middle of the night. It’s not like the kids are in diapers. I should be able to—”

“You think they’re easier when they can move around independently and back-talk you?”

“Point made.”

“So I’ll see what I can do to help you out a little.”

His gaze jerked to hers. “You’ll help?”

“Sure. As much as I can.”

“How?” Sweet relief blanketed him. Addy seemed capable and sincere—two qualities he appreciated in his fellow man, or rather woman. If there was any lemonade to be had after the lemons Chris had given by crashing into a greenhouse, this was it.

“Well, all the children should help us rebuild the greenhouse for two reasons—first, they can get to know you better with a like purpose in mind and, second, they’ll be easy to keep an eye on. At some point, you and I can sit down and go over their schedules and see where I, or even my Aunt Flora, can help out. For example, Aunt Flora’s an excellent cook and would likely be happy to save you from pizza every night.”

“Who’s Aunt Flora?”

“I’m Aunt Flora.”

Lucas swiveled his head to where an older woman stood wearing a sombrero, a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt that read “I may be old but you’re a moron.” She looked a little like an older Lucille Ball, replete with red lipstick...and a little like she might have escaped from an asylum.