Full-Time Father

“I would like the time to get to know Christie,” he continued. “There’s plenty of room for both of you.”

“Please, Mommy,” Christie begged.

“Don’t forget, I live here,” Kiki said from her place by the door. “I’ll be the chaperon.”

Parker straightened immediately. His face hardened, and his expression became unreadable. Erin felt as if she’d been slapped. Obviously even the thought of anything happening between them was so repugnant, he could barely stay seated. Well, that was just fine with her. She wasn’t interested in him, either. Pray God he hadn’t been able to tell what she was thinking earlier when just the lightest touch of his fingers on the small of her back had sent heat spiraling through her body. Something was very wrong with her and as soon as she figured out what it was, she was going to get it fixed.

She stood up and glanced from Parker to Kiki to Christie. She didn’t know what to do. Staying would probably be best for Christie and Parker. They would need time to get to know each other before they could bond.

“Say yes,” Christie whispered.

“Say yes,” Kiki said.

Finally Parker glanced up at her. “I would like the two of you to stay.”

She drew in a deep breath. “All right.”

Christie whooped loudly and flung herself at Erin. “You’re the bestest mommy ever.”

Erin placed her hand on her daughter’s head. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re fighting your bedtime.”

Christie giggled, then spun around and grinned at Parker. “Can I have that room upstairs? The one with all the windows so I can see the whole sky? And the rocking horse and the playhouse?”

“Of course.” Parker also rose to his feet. He towered over Erin by a good seven or eight inches and she was five feet seven inches. “Kiki will make up the room across the hall for you, Erin. That way you can be close by. I’m down on the second floor.”

His tone told her he was reassuring her that she would be safe from him. She’d already figured that out.

“I’ve paid for the motel room for today,” she said. “I think Christie and I should stay there tonight. My friend Joyce will be leaving in the morning, then Christie and I will check out and come here. Say ten or eleven?”

“That sounds perfect,” Kiki said, before Parker could comment. She moved forward and took Christie by the hand. “You’re going to have to tell me everything you like to eat. I can cook anything. Would you like a cake for dessert after lunch tomorrow?”

Christie’s answer was lost as Kiki led the girl out of the room. Erin watched them go, then turned her attention to Parker. Some of the tension seemed to have left his body, but his expression was still unreadable.

“You can change your mind,” she said quietly. “It’s not too late. Christie would understand.”

His dark gaze met hers. “That’s not an option. I want to get to know my daughter. After all, she’ll be spending time here.” His mouth eased into a smile. “I’ll admit to being a little overwhelmed.”

“Only a little?” she teased.

“Okay. A lot overwhelmed. But this is important to me. Now that I’ve found her, I want to be a part of her life.”

“I’m glad,” Erin said and was pleased that she really meant it. “Christie is a great kid. She deserves a father who cares about her.”

Something very much like pain flashed through Parker’s eyes. Before Erin could figure out what it was, he’d placed his hand on the small of her back and was urging her toward the door. Her out-of-control hormones took over and all she could do was endure the heat the contact produced and concentrate on not making a fool out of herself.

“I think you’re insane,” Joyce said the next morning as she pulled the shoulder strap of her purse up her arm and settled it in place. “Coming up here to meet the guy is one thing, but living with him is another. What if he’s an ax murderer?”

“I’ve met the man. He seems very nice. He has a live-in housekeeper. I’ve read magazine articles about him and even seen his credit report. None of them mentioned anything about being an ax murderer.”

Joyce brushed her long blond hair out of her face. “You think serial killers can’t get a credit card?”

“I think serial killers aren’t millionaires who set up foundations to help poor children get a good education.”

“He did that?”

Erin nodded, then rose to her feet. The bathtub was almost half full of water. She checked the temperature, then turned off the faucet. Christie was already pulling off her nightgown and stepping into the water.

“I have to be pretty when I see my daddy again,” she said and she sat in the tub.

It was the first time the girl had ever requested a bath, so Erin wasn’t about to discourage her. “Do you want your toys?” she asked.

Christie rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

Erin grinned, then handed her the net bag containing all her bathtub entertainment. She left the bathroom door open and stepped into the bedroom. The sound of splashing followed her.

Joyce glanced at her watch. “I should be going.”

“I wish you hadn’t rented a car. I would have been happy to drive you to San Francisco.”

“No, it’s too far. Christie was cooped up in the car enough on the way up here. I’ll be fine.” Joyce smiled. “Besides, I rented a convertible. A far cry from my sensible import back home, but it is just for the day.”

“You’ll be okay?”

Joyce touched her oversize handbag. “I’ve got maps and the number of Dan’s hotel. I’ll be fine.”

Erin looked at her friend. Joyce was a stereotypical California girl with blond hair and blue eyes, and a petite figure that made her the envy of most of her friends. If she hadn’t been a genuinely nice person, someone would have done her in years ago. She taught at the same school with Erin. When Erin had first mentioned driving up to meet Christie’s father, Joyce had offered to tag along to spell the driving and to baby-sit if needed. Then she would hop down to San Francisco and spend a week with her fiancé who was there on business.

“You’re sure about this guy?” Joyce asked, obviously reluctant to leave.

Erin crossed the room and gave her friend a hug. “I would never put Christie in danger. Parker Hamiliton is a very nice man. A little reclusive, but that’s not a horrible fault. He seems genuinely excited to meet his daughter. Christie needs this.”

Joyce hugged her back, then stared at her. “You always worry about what Christie needs, but who worries about what you need?”

“Me? I’m fine.”

“You’re twenty-seven years old, and you’re living like a nun.”

“I happen to like living like a nun.”

Joyce laughed. “Don’t lie to me. You hate it. You have to. It’s not easy being responsible for everything yourself. I just wish—”

Erin returned to the double bed by the door and sank onto the mattress. “You wish what?”

“I wish it had turned out differently.”

Erin shook her head. Off-key singing floated out of the bathroom. Christie was mangling a song she learned at her preschool.