“Will you be my dad?”

Ask me anything but that.

Once upon a time, Dr. Daniel Delaney had it all. But he lost it in the blink of an eye, and he won’t let himself fall again—not even for his dedicated new assistant, Keela O’Mara, and her adorable, lonely little girl, Anna. Resisting a starry-eyed four-year-old is tough enough. Denying her perfect, loving single mom may be more than Daniel can handle...

LYNNE MARSHALL used to worry she had a serious problem with daydreaming, and then she discovered she was supposed to write those stories down! A late bloomer, she came to fiction writing after her children were nearly grown. Now she battles the empty nest by writing romantic stories about life, love and happy endings. She’s a proud mother and grandmother who loves babies, dogs, books, music and traveling.

Also by Lynne Marshall

Her Perfect Proposal

A Doctor for Keeps

The Medic’s Homecoming

Courting His Favorite Nurse

Miracle for the Neurosurgeon

A Mother for His Adopted Son

200 Harley Street: American Surgeon in London

Her Baby’s Secret Father

Wedding Date with the Army Doc

His Pregnant Sleeping Beauty

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Forever a Father

Lynne Marshall

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07742-2

FOREVER A FATHER

© 2018 Janet Maarschalk

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Sincerest thanks to Flo Nicoll for guiding me through the early stages of this project.

To Gail Chasan for giving me the chance to tell the Delaney brothers’ stories for Special Edition.

And special thanks to Megan Broderick

for stepping up on my behalf.

I am deeply grateful.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Extract

Chapter One

Daniel Delaney opened the clinic supply closet, but it was nearly bare. “Keela!” He called for his physical therapy assistant before filtering the frustration out of his voice. What was going on? She was usually on top of everything related to the job, yet here he stood, with not a single Velcro tendonitis strap in sight. Disappointed, he glanced around. Where were the red stretch bands, or the electrical pads for the TENS machine? Eyes darting every which way, he added several other items to the list. “Keela!”

The PT in question stuck her head into the tiny supply closet, her large baby blues registering alarm. “Yes?”

“Where is everything?” He glanced around to emphasize the point.

Her light brown brows lowered and she stepped inside. “I told you last week the weather conditions in the East had set back the delivery dates on my last order.” Unlike him, she spoke civilly, though she folded her thin arms and lifted her slightly squared chin.

“You did?” He’d worked with her for three months, had hired her on the spot the day she’d walked in, which was unlike him. But after having lost on short notice his first PT tech, Tiffany, he needed a replacement. He’d also been limping through an ongoing private hell, making him a bear to work with, which was probably why Tiffany had quit in the first place. That and his high expectations for his employees. Like expecting them to be on time. Bullheaded to a fault, he’d attempted to do everything himself for one long, stressful month and failed miserably. Chalking that up as a major blunder, he’d accepted his shortcoming. He’d been a guy who’d gotten too full of himself with opening his own physical medicine practice, and who’d thought he could do it all...while grieving. Lesson learned.

On the other hand, he’d had a hunch about the woman from Ireland who’d just completed her accredited associate degree from the local city college, and who desperately needed the job. Maybe the accent he recognized in his own grandfather swayed him a teeny tiny bit. She was new in town, divorced, and had a child to support, and was the complete opposite of Tiffany, who’d complained he was too demanding when he insisted she show up for work on time and finish everything before she left. Keela was employee-of-the-month material.

He hadn’t regretted spontaneously hiring her, either. She was particularly good at dealing with his no-longer-sunny personality and letting his occasional gruffness roll off her skin. Like right now, when he wasn’t ready to admit she may have told him this information before. “Hmm.”

“I should know never to talk to you when you’ve got your head buried in paperwork.” She gave an understanding smile, the kind that always brightened her eyes and disarmed him.

“So when’s the order expected?” Standing nearly nose to nose with her in the tight chamber felt cramped. Plus her vanilla herb perfume was disturbing; he didn’t know whether to sniff her or nibble her neck, which for some reason made him cranky again. He motioned for her to back out, she did and he followed.

“They promised before the end of this week.”

He let out his breath. “Then I guess we’ll just have to make do.”

Her sometimes distracting smile stretched wider. “That’s what you said last time.” She turned in the short hallway, the gotcha moment causing a nearly imperceptible twitch of one brow, and went back into the physical therapy room, where the first of her afternoon patients waited.

Point taken, and true, he let his job preoccupy him. A perfect excuse to push his ongoing grief aside. The clinic was his bread and butter, and lately there’d been more crust than bread, and only a thin layer of no-name buttery spread. But he was determined to make the business side of medicine work right here in his hometown, Sandpiper Beach. Even though beach towns were notoriously tough on new businesses, and moving back home after losing the woman you loved wasn’t the best reason to throw yourself into a new business venture. But he did love his job.

He’d wanted to become a physical medicine doctor since he was an injured preteen jock and had been sent to one for multiple issues, all of which related to overdoing it in sports. The doctor had worked wonders on his aches and pains without loading him up on pills, handing him back his jock status to play football and baseball to his heart’s content. Daniel quickly became a believer. In fact, it changed his life. From that point forward he’d set his goal on the prize of medicine. The refocus may also have had something to do with the reality check that he wasn’t big or burly enough for professional sports. Whatever the true reason, he’d worked tirelessly throughout high school, college, medical school and his residency/fellowship. For this. He glanced around the small, functional clinic as he walked back to his office, the pride planted in his chest blooming a bit. He’d actually done it—survived the first year without Kathryn and in business.

Business ran in the family. Padraig Delaney, his eighty-five-year-old grandfather, had immigrated to the United States in the 1950s, where he helped develop the lush golf courses along the central California coast. There he’d met Mary and made her his wife. They’d scrimped and saved and bought property in Sandpiper Beach because it reminded him of Sligo Bay way back home in County Sligo, Ireland. Soon after, he and Mary built a small beachside hotel and called it The Drumcliffe.

Daniel’s father had taken over what was now a family business, after giving up teaching at the local high school, and Daniel’s mother managed reservations and hospitality. Dad had taken to the new job happily and likewise encouraged Daniel to work for himself. He’d been perfectly content with a good job in a hospital group down in Ventura, California, but within a year his personal life had taken a hit. Kathryn had left him. After the major setback, he’d fallen into such a slump that he decided to move back to his beach hometown and set up practice right here. He loved his parents and liked hanging out with his brothers, and Sandpiper Beach would always be home. With or without Kathryn.

The clinic soon became his sole focus, and with grief and pain as his constant companions, Daniel was convinced this business had saved his life.

He scratched out a note on his prescription pad: “One Velcro tendonitis strap.” Then he stepped back into the patient exam room. “John, sorry to inconvenience you, but you’ll have to get this filled at the local pharmacy. We’re currently out of stock.”

The middle-aged man suffering from new-onset tennis elbow took the script and thanked him. “No problem.”

“If you have any questions about how to put it on, come on in and either I or Keela will show you.” He demonstrated where on the forearm to place an imaginary strap and how to attach it without cutting off the circulation. “It’s not a tourniquet. Oh, and you can keep taking the over-the-counter anti-inflammatories, but don’t forget to use ice, too. If in a couple of weeks you’re not making any progress, we could try a wrist extensor, or after a month or so give you an injection, but let’s start with this.”

“Will do, Doc.” The silver-templed man hopped off the exam table. “Still feels strange to call little Danny Delaney ‘Doc.’” He winked a blue eye and shook Daniel’s hand, then winced from the tendonitis pain. “Thanks for being here. Otherwise I’d have had to drive forty miles for help.”

“Glad to be here, John. We’ll get this worked out even if I have to bring you in for some low level laser therapy.”

He escorted the patient to the hallway and, after watching him exit to the reception area, pivoted toward his small corner office to push through more paperwork before his next appointment in—he glanced at his watch—ten minutes.

“Daniel?” Keela popped out of the therapy room.

He glanced up, momentarily content being the guy in charge.

She approached, looking far better in their khaki cargo pants and white polo shirt uniform than he did. “You’ve written ten repetitions ten times a day for this.” She pointed to the exercise regimen he’d created especially for the patient. “Sure you didn’t mean three times a day?”

Were the unwanted thoughts from when he woke up this morning, about Kathryn and everything they’d lost, going to set the tone for yet another day? He gave his screwup face and, without saying a word, took the paper and made the correction, which got another one of those beyond-pleasant grins from his PT assistant. Yup, he noticed. Again.

Keela O’Mara cracked a smile at her boss’s silly face. He’d crossed his forest-green eyes and tipped his oblong chin, just like her four-year-old daughter sometimes did when she colored outside the lines. Sure, he was often gruff, but she didn’t take it personally. On the contrary, she trusted him for it, knowing what she saw was what she’d get. The guy was honest with his reactions, and she could deal with that. There was no question this clinic meant everything to him.

She liked working for Daniel Delaney and had hit the jackpot when she’d landed this job right out of Central Coast City College. Many of her classmates were still scrambling for work nearly four months later. Being back in Sandpiper Beach was a blessing after struggling for the last year and a half since the divorce from Ron.

Six years ago she’d started an online friendship with a guy in California. Living in Ennis, County Clare, Ireland, she’d thought the whole thing rather daring, yet safe. He liked her being from Ireland, and after six months she’d agreed to meet him for coffee on his layover at Shannon Airport.

His big brown eyes and warm, wide smile won her over immediately, then he proved to be the perfect gentleman. She’d known her share of smooth talkers, but this guy was polite and polished, and she wanted to know him better. When she’d wished out loud that she could show him around Ennis, he’d magically arranged to cut his vacation in Europe short by a few days to see her again. Her parents even liked him!

One thing led to another and he’d offered to fly her to California for a visit. Her parents cautioned her, so she’d made a firm request: I can’t stay with you, Ron. But he’d already booked her a room in a small hotel by the beach, The Drumcliffe—the people who owned and operated it were Irish Americans, he’d said, to make her feel at home—then he’d proved to be the perfect gentleman the whole visit. That was when she fell in love.

She’d been working as a massage therapist at a day spa in Ennis, getting by on her tips, but not earning enough to move away from home, let alone plan another trip to California. Two months later, she’d discovered she’d fallen pregnant. And though eventually Ron had asked her to marry him, he never seemed quite the same sweet-talking guy again.

* * *

Ten after four on Wednesday afternoon, Keela came strolling out of the therapy room. As she and her patient emerged from the hallway, Daniel was at the copier, collating packets for the athletic department staff at Central Coast City College—otherwise known as the 4Cs—for the upcoming presentation he had planned for tomorrow morning. Keela accompanied Mrs. Joan Haverhill, a long-term client at the Delaney Physical Medicine Clinic. That was, if you counted “long-term” as the one year since he’d opened his business.

“With your joints being fine, and considering normal wear and tear...” Keela said to the patient while nodding to acknowledge Daniel.

“Go ahead, say it—for a woman my age,” the tall, yet hunch-shouldered, gray-haired woman complained. “It’s all I ever hear when I go to the doctor these days. For your age.” She made sure Daniel heard her, too.

A lyrical laugh eased out of Keela’s mouth, and it never failed to grab his attention. She might as well be singing.

“I’d never say that, Mrs. Haverhill. You’re in great shape—”

The sixtyish lady tossed Daniel a deadpan look that seemed to say, Do you believe the crock she’s feeding me? More, please.

He smiled and added a benevolent nod.

“For your age,” Joan repeated, first pasting her gaze on him, then slowly looking back to Keela. “Kind of like the old joke about fortune cookies.”

Keela gave a blank stare. Joan glanced toward Daniel again. “Dr. Delaney, you’ve got to take your employees for Chinese food once in a while.”

The woman turned her attention back to Keela. “Here’s the old trick—all you have to do is add ‘in bed’ to whatever the fortune says.” Keela canted her head, considering Joan’s suggestion. “Um, let me think... For example, ‘Do not mistake temptation for opportunity,’ then you add ‘in bed.’ Get it? It always works, just add ‘in bed.’”

For her effort, Joan received another uncertain stare. “Didn’t you ever do that, Dr. Delaney?”

He pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head. “Can’t say I ever have.”

Resigned, she shrugged. “Maybe that was only my generation. Anyway, that’s the way it seems these days. Every doctor report I get either begins or ends with the phrase for your a—”

“In bed?” Keela teased.

Mrs. Haverhill gave an uncharacteristic chuckle. And that was another thing he liked about his employee. She was quick-witted.

“In that case, I want you to do these four exercises I’ve just shown you, three times a day...” Keela gestured for Joan to finish the sentence.

“...in bed.” The lady winked at Daniel.

“Yes. Well, on a bed, actually. Or better yet, on this mat.” Keela breezed to the cubicles that lined the hallway, which thankfully weren’t depleted like the supply shelves, and grabbed a bright pink yoga mat.

Having clearly won over the usually reticent client with the parting gift—another touch Daniel was proud to offer his patients but was worried he’d have to give up if business didn’t pick up soon—Keela received a smile from Mrs. Haverhill, who took the mat and headed for the door to the waiting room. “Thank you.”

“Have a great week!”

“In bed or for a woman my age?” Joan snickered as she went out.

Keela stood watching the client leave for a moment, then turned toward Daniel with a satisfied smile.

How could he not smile back? “Good work.”

As assistant physical therapists went, Daniel had known from the start she was damn good. It was the rest of the package that made him uncomfortable. The woman part.

Especially after Kathryn, who’d been responsible for his deciding to come back home. He’d asked her to move to Sandpiper Beach with him, so they could heal together. Instead she’d left, essentially gutting him.

“Thanks, boss.” Keela saluted and gathered the batch of paperwork for the next appointment. He’d asked her to see a few extra clients this afternoon so he could concentrate on his pitch for tomorrow. If he could land the 4Cs account, he’d be sitting pretty, with a never-ending flow of young athletes through his office doors. He needed to get it right.

Keela’s phone rang and she stepped inside her office to answer it. With the copier going, Daniel couldn’t hear the conversation, but as he gazed through the large office window, he noticed her brows were lowered. She said something else, then glanced toward the ceiling in a frustrated manner while listening. Just as his copies were done, she hung up, her shoulders slumped and her usual smile inverted. “Thanks for the too-late heads-up,” she raised her voice to the phone on her desk.

No sooner had she stepped into the hallway than a little girl barreled through the doorway from reception, an older woman at her heels. Keela’s face lit up when she saw the child. “Hi, Anna,” she sang, bending and giving her a hug.

Up until now Daniel had just seen pictures of Keela’s daughter on her desk. That, he could handle, but seeing her in person sent a painful jolt straight through his chest. He flinched, then quickly got a grip, though thanks to his recent history, looking at her felt like slowing down at a car accident. Man, she was small, with the kind of little-kid smile that belonged on a billboard. A junior version of her mother’s. He diverted his gaze to the paperwork in his hands.

“Thanks for dropping by on your way to your appointment, Mrs. Jenkins.” Acting upbeat seemed to be second nature to Keela, but this time it didn’t ring true.

Daniel stacked his handouts in a huge pile and started for his office, and shortly afterward the woman left, leaving Anna behind. He tried not to notice.

He’d just plopped the copies on his desk when he felt someone behind him. Keela stood at his office entrance, an anxious expression on her face, her daughter at her side. “I need to ask you a huge favor,” she said. “My ex-husband was supposed to take Anna for the afternoon and evening, but he only just now called and canceled, and Mrs. Jenkins has an appointment to get her hair colored.”

Daniel dreaded what he suspected was coming. His usual, nearly daily struggle with his loss had lightened up lately, thanks to the distraction of responsibilities with the clinic, but the mere sight of the impish little girl managed to decimate in a few seconds what progress he’d made over the past year. Slipping into defense mode, he went practical.

“You can leave her in your office if you need to.”

“Uh, no, she’s only four.”

“I’m almost five.” The child’s tiny hand shot up, all five fingers worth, which clawed at his achy heart. He had to admit the kid was cute, with loads of curls and big brown eyes, but...

“She needs supervision.”

No. No. No. Not a good day for this. “Do you want to cancel your afternoon appointments? It’s kind of late.” Keep thinking about the business. That, I can handle. But if he took over her schedule, he wouldn’t have the time he’d allotted to practice his pitch for tomorrow.

“No!” Alarm made Keela’s large iceberg-blue eyes grow huge. “I wouldn’t leave you in a bind like that. I’ve got four more patients to see, and I intend to see them.” She chewed her lip, her daughter holding her hand and staring up at her. The innocent party. “Is there any chance you could look after her for the next hour?”

What? I’ve got things to do. Presentations to prepare for. I don’t do kids. But he wasn’t that big of a jerk, was he? Keela was his employee of the month, every month. Hell, every day! She needed a favor, and he was it. “I guess she can sit in here while I work.” He didn’t even try to sound okay with the idea, and put the emphasis on work, as tension crept up his neck.

“Thank you!” she said, with such relief that he felt bad for his contrary attitude, even as early signs of panic set in. But he had a presentation to prepare for! He would just ignore the kid and soon the hour would be over.

“Let’s not make a habit of it.” The thought of spending forced time with the little girl sent an ice pick straight through his heart. Would he ever get beyond it?

“Never my intention, Daniel. I’m just stuck in the middle today.”

He clenched his molars. Yeah, he got that. Now he was, too, but childcare wasn’t part of their employment agreement. He had a business to run. It was his lifeline. “Okay, kid, have a seat.”

The little girl looked to her mother, who dropped to her knees and gazed at her, eye to eye. “Be a good girl for Dr. Delaney. Mommy needs to work, okay?”

Anna nodded, as serious as a little kid could be. Keela took the tiny, tangerine-colored backpack covered in animated movie characters off the child’s shoulders, unzipped it and fished out some crayons and a coloring book. “You can make some nice pictures for Daddy for when you see him next.” Then she escorted the girl to the chair opposite Daniel’s desk. The one he reserved for his patients. There was a small table with assorted magazines next to it. She could color on that. She was so tiny, and probably worried about the big mean-faced man. He tried to smile to ease her concerns, but failed. It wasn’t her fault she’d been stuck with him, old mean-face, who was still hurting and lost and, so far, unable to move on.

Anna didn’t seem too interested in drawing for her dad, but Keela opened the book to a specific page. She left for the therapy room on a wave of that vanilla herb scent, with a relived “thank you” on her breath, and thankfully, the child went right to work on her coloring.

Okay, so far so good. He’d survive, he’d get through this, and before he knew it, the time would be over. Think defense. He checked his watch, then got back to the task at hand, ignoring the kid.

“What are you doing?” The slow, inquisitive words broke his concentration. He tensed. Again.

“Uh, I’m working on a project.”

“Can I help?”

He stapled pages together from the large stack waiting on his desk. Daniel wanted to breeze through the mindless job in record time so he could practice his presentation until he knew it backward and forward. But there she was, standing next to his desk. He stopped and glanced at the kid, noting her hopeful dark eyes, her obvious eagerness to get involved. Man, ignoring her was tough. “Uh, okay. Can you push this down hard enough to go through the papers?”

He placed the stapler at the upper left corner of the next four-page packet on his desk. She was too short to reach it, so he held the stapler out to her, trying to keep some distance. Not the right angle, and zero support. She climbed up on his lap, and he instantly regretted it. How tiny she was, yet full of life, how...

Bang, she whopped that stapler like a professional, surprising him. “Good.” If they worked fast, this would soon be over.

A minute later she’d completed the task, with his guidance, and somehow he’d survived. “And that’s it. Thanks. Now you can go back to your coloring.” He immediately removed the child from his lap, finally able to relax and take a deep breath.

It occurred to him he might stick Abby, the receptionist, with Anna for a while. But Keela had asked him to do the job, and he’d already assigned Abby to update client records this afternoon, which involved calling former and current patients on the phone. Otherwise known as drumming up more business. She couldn’t very well do that, check in the arriving patients and watch a kid, too. And he’d cleared most of his afternoon specifically so he could work on his 4Cs pitch for tomorrow morning.

“I don’t want to.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to color. Is that a fountain?”

Looking out the door, she said the word slowly—“foun-tan.” Yes, it was. It was in the hallway and she was welcome to go get a drink so he could get back to what he needed to do. “Yes. Help yourself.”

Anna scooted out of the room in her pink leggings and tutu, her sneakers squeaking on the tile. It was kind of cute, but he ignored the thought. Too damn painful. Instead he gave a sigh of relief that he was alone again and focused on his speech.

“I need help!” She used her outdoor voice, which startled him, and he jumped out of his chair to assist her by lifting her under the arms. Man, she was light, hardly weighed anything. So vulnerable and completely dependent on him. So trusting. Precious. She pushed the button for water, but her mop of curls got in the way. Her face got wet and she giggled. He almost smiled.

“Here,” he said, balancing her on his bent knee and thigh, and holding her hair out of the way with one hand. She slurped to her heart’s content, coming up only when she needed to breathe.

“Tastes good.”

He thought quickly. “I can fill up a cup for you. That’ll be easier.”

“No...” She dragged out the word. “I do it this way.”

And there he stood, letting his PT’s daughter drown herself in icy foun-tan water, braving brain freeze for fun.

“All done,” she finally said, so he set her down and felt immediate relief. Now maybe he could get back to work.

“I have to pee.”

He scrunched up his face, didn’t even try to hide his reaction. Was this really happening? “Do you know how to do that by yourself?” Because there was no way he was getting involved in that.

“I’m almost five!” Up went the hand.

“Okay.” Whatever that meant. He took her lifted hand, walked her to the unisex bathroom and nudged her inside. She gave him an exasperated glance, then pointed to the toilet seat cover container on the wall, too high for her to reach. He stepped inside, but only long enough to put the thin paper cover on the toilet, then turned to leave while again thinking how small she was and hoping she wouldn’t fall in. Before he closed the door, she was already pulling down her leggings and underpants.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He couldn’t help raising his voice, but seeing alarm on her face, he toned it down. “Let me leave first, okay?”

“Okeydoke.” So easily appeased.

He stood outside the bathroom door for what seemed like forever, marveling at the innocence of children and how they needed to be protected. There went the stab to his heart again. He checked his watch, listening to make sure she hadn’t fallen into that toilet bowl, but mostly wishing he was in his office doing what he was supposed to be doing. Unfortunately, his thoughts got stuck somewhere between loss and grief, pain and dangerously close to do-not-enter territory.

He pushed the feelings down, insisting he could do this. She was an innocent kid and he was the adult in the room. Soon he heard a flush. “I can’t reach it!” she yelled.

He tried to open the door. How had she managed to lock it without him hearing? “Let me in so I can help.”

“What?” she yelled over the running toilet water.

“Let me in.” Instead of raising his voice, he lowered it, not wanting to draw attention to the predicament, or alert Keela that he’d already screwed up.

With the toilet flushing, she spent a few seconds opening the door, long enough to have Daniel wondering where he kept the emergency bathroom key. Once it was open, she beamed up at him as if she’d just completed the most amazing undertaking of her life.

Daniel stepped into the small bathroom and immediately turned on the water. “I’m going to teach you a trick,” he said, putting the toilet lid down. “Stand on this.” Anything to avoid holding her again.

She crawled up, then leaned forward to use the adjacent sink.

“See? Isn’t that better?”

She tossed him a look that proved he was a true genius. But he still smarted from the last time he’d picked her up.

Anna clapped her hands beneath the stream of water. He jumped back to avoid getting wet, then guided her to the liquid soap and showed her how to lather up. “Make bubbles. That’s how we doctors do it.”

“You’re smart!” Why did everything she say come out like an exclamation? Still, her compliment caught him off guard and he cracked a smile for the first time that afternoon. Okay, so she was kind of cute.

He glanced at his watch again. All of fifteen minutes had passed since he’d been handed the job of childcare provider, and Keela wouldn’t be through until five. Now what should they do?

* * *

Keela stepped out of the therapy room, escorting her last patient back to the waiting room. She glanced in Daniel’s office as she passed, but he and Anna weren’t there. Worry flashed briefly. She followed the patient through the door and asked Abby where they were.

The receptionist didn’t have a chance to respond before the front doors of the clinic flew open and in waltzed Daniel and Anna, half-eaten ice cream cones in their hands. He looked up, and rather than seem guilty about feeding a child ice cream right before dinnertime, his expression clearly read Thank God you’re done.

Anna ran to her mother. “We had fun!”

“You did?” Surprised, she smiled, fixing her daughter’s hair, tightening the lopsided bow and only then daring to look at Daniel again—who stood licking the remnants of his cone, ignoring both of them.

“Okay. So my job here is done,” he said coolly, when he finally noticed her watching him. Then, business as usual, he walked to his office without another word.

She’d imposed her daughter on him, and what could she expect—that he’d love it? Thank the heavens it had ended well and she still had a job. But a flare of sadness made her think how Anna’s own father hardly ever wanted to spend time with her. At least Daniel had taken her for ice cream, maybe not because he wanted to, but because he was a decent guy. That alone made him different from her ex.

“Say thank you, Anna.” She guided her daughter to his office door, intent on showing her manners.

“Thank you!”

He looked surprised, maybe a little bothered by the interruption. Anything he’d done for her daughter had been purely out of duty, that was obvious. Maybe he wasn’t so different from Ron.

“You’re welcome. Okay, sport,” he said nonchalantly, “remember to pump your feet out when you go forward and in when you swing back. Then you can swing really high.” By the end of the sentence, he’d already gone back to focusing on his computer screen.

But that didn’t seem to faze Anna. She gathered her backpack, put her crayons and coloring book inside, then zipped it.

Did he just say swing really high? How high? Keela wondered, helping her daughter put her backpack over her shoulders. “Did you color Dad a picture?” she asked.

“No. We did lots of other stuff.” Anna reached for her mother’s hand, oblivious to Daniel’s lack of attention, then let Keela lead her out the door. “He taught me to swing so high! He said I shouldn’t ’spect him to do all the work.”

“I didn’t say it that mean,” he interjected, without lifting his head.

So he was listening. Keela glanced over her shoulder at Daniel, in his own world, clacking away on computer keys, pretending to ignore them. That guy taught you how to swing? They continued down the hall.

“We looked at bugs and he let me hold a caterpillar and...” She babbled on with a lengthening list of everything they’d done. A surprisingly long list, too. Daniel?

“Is that so,” Keela said, guiding her daughter toward the car.

Things didn’t add up. Daniel couldn’t have ignored Anna all afternoon and still won over her clear adoration. He’d taken her to the nearby park and bought her ice cream from the parlor three doors up. Shown her bugs and who knew what else. The child was practically dancing with joy. Of course, that could have something to do with the sugar high from the cone. Truth was, Anna never came home from the occasional visits with her father happy like this.

Keela tightened the belt on Anna’s car seat, closed the back door and slipped behind the steering wheel, turning the key on the old but dependable sedan.

She had been under the impression that Daniel Delaney was a man driven by his profession. All his time and effort seemed to focus on the clinic, and she respected him for it. She’d heard from Abby about a bad breakup before he’d opened the business, as well as the terrible experience with the last PT, and understood why he might be standoffish with her, or any woman, for that matter. But even when he spoke brusquely to her, she never took it personally. She understood pain and what it did to people. She was part of his staff and wanted to see him succeed, not just for him, but for her job security. They were a team. She and Ron were anything but.

She pulled onto Main Street, passing the ice cream parlor where Daniel had bought Anna her treat, heading for her neighborhood several blocks inland from the beach.

Ron hadn’t changed overnight. No, it had taken a couple years for his true personality to finally break through. He talked a good talk, but when it came to everyday living, the hard part of being a husband and providing for his family—for the woman he’d brought over from Ireland to be his lawfully wedded wife—he’d turned out to be selfish, demanding and miserable to be around. The fact that Anna hadn’t been Andrew seemed suspiciously part of the problem. But mostly, once Keela learned there was no making him happy, she’d quit trying. She’d also quit holding back from pointing out his shortfalls. Things got ugly between them, and he spent more and more time away from home.

After he’d cheated on her, and they’d finally broken up, he’d agreed to pay for her to attend City College for a physical therapy assistant certificate. Payoff money? Guilt? Clearly, he’d wanted to get rid of her, especially since he’d found a new woman, this one a German exchange student. But Keela didn’t care anymore; the old hurt had scarred over and in her heart she’d moved on. Never to be tricked by a sweet-talking man again.

She pulled into the carport beside her aging summer cottage. After the divorce, she’d remembered her first trip to California and the quaint hotel on the beach in Sandpiper, and how much she’d loved it there. Since it was close to the college, she’d found this small place to rent and, though hurt to the core, did her best to get on with her life. Landing a job at the clinic had made a huge difference in her outlook.

Once released from her car seat, Anna flew out of the vehicle and ran like a whirlwind toward the porch. Keela stayed behind, gathering the backpack and her purse.

The day she’d first met Daniel Delaney, she’d tried her best to remain professional but knew her dire need for employment cracked through her job-applicant veneer. Please hire me. Please. Please. Please? His natural good looks had set her off-kilter, but she’d quickly focused beyond his shocking green eyes and his sturdy rugby build, the charming Irish smile she’d recognize anywhere. There was absolutely no reason for her to notice his stylishly cut, thick brown hair, but she had.

Thankfully, he’d hired her on the spot, and she’d promised herself to be the best employee she could possibly be for him. So if he seemed crusty or occasionally abrupt, he was allowed, and she let it roll off her back. That was nothing compared to the nonstop complaints she’d endured from her ex. Now she was part of Daniel’s team. The businessman and doctor was helping her start her new life in the United States completely on her own.

She unlocked the front door while Anna jumped from one foot to the other, her sign for needing the bathroom.

Keela had saddled him with her daughter today and didn’t expect him to appreciate it, but she’d been desperate, once again thanks to Ron. When would she learn she could never depend on that man? Daniel had obviously been unhappy about it, but he’d stepped up to the task and apparently had done far more than an adequate job, judging by Anna’s cheery mood.

Anna lunged for the tiny pink-tiled bathroom. “Dr. Daniel taught me a trick today,” she called over her shoulder.

“He did?” Keela followed her into the room.

After Anna finished her business, she grinned, shut the toilet lid with a bang and climbed onto it, then leaned over toward the nearby sink. “See?” she said as she turned on the water to wash her hands. “I can do this all by myself. I don’t need that little kid’s stool.”

Keela had seen Daniel only as the man who’d hired her and saved her life until now, but today her predicament had pushed him out of the shadows and into the spotlight. And he’d sparkled. What was the saying? Actions speak louder than words. There had to be a lot more going on behind the gruff exterior of Daniel Delaney, because this afternoon, after first looking like he had a bad case of heartburn, the guy had turned out to be nothing short of a star.

After the rough ride with Ron, who’d changed bit by bit from wonderful to demanding, picky and never satisfied, then flat-out mean-spirited over their three-and-a-half-year marriage, she needed to believe there were still good men out there. Or, more realistically, regular guys with good hearts. Guys who could be trusted.

After Ron’s painful betrayal and the divorce, and a year and a half of swearing off men, since she’d proved she had zero skills choosing the right type, something clicked. The thought scared her to no end, but she was a mature thirty-year-old mother now. She’d moved countries and survived. She’d learned to depend on herself and hadn’t done such a bad job of it for her and Anna. Every day, she felt more confident, too.

She helped Anna dry her hands while her daughter babbled on.

Thanks to Ron, the mere thought of opening her eyes to what was around her, namely Daniel, still sent a jittery wave through her stomach.

* * *

Daniel finished assessing his last rescheduled patient, then went to his office, ready to pick up where he’d left off earlier, practicing his presentation for tomorrow, before he’d been interrupted by Anna. Even though the clinic was empty, he closed the door. The winding tangle in his chest since Anna walked in, reminding him of what he’d lost, pinched tighter. He sat, squeezed his eyes closed and, covering them with his hand, pressed his temples with thumb and fingertip. He stayed like that for a few moments, listening to his breathing, fighting off the pain, the grief, grasping at the calm that always eluded him at times like this. Don’t do it. Do. Not. Do it.

But he didn’t heed his own advice. Instead he opened the lower desk drawer, the one with the hanging files, riffling around way at the back until he found the manila envelope. He shook his head, knowing with every fiber of his being that he shouldn’t, but he opened it anyway. Then carefully pulled out the ultrasound picture of Emma at twenty weeks. The day they’d found out she was a girl. A few days later, when a radiologist had given a proper reading of the procedure, something else even more significant was diagnosed.

The knot that had been twisting around his heart since Anna showed up tore loose as his eyes filled and Emma’s perfect little profile went blurry. She’d never had the chance to drink from fountains, swing on swings, wear frilly tutus or even take a breath on the outside. And some days, like today, he was unsure if he’d ever get past the pain.

Chapter Two

Thursday midmorning, Keela was escorting her last patient before lunch to the reception room at the exact moment Daniel came bolting through the door, his smile broad enough to take flight. She glanced at his feet to make sure they weren’t levitating.

He made eye contact and shot his fist in the air. “I did it!” he said through gritted teeth. “They hired me. Our clinic, I should say. Beginning next month, you’ll have to give group physical therapy sessions, since we’re going to be so busy with the City College jocks.”

Keela clapped her hands. “That’s fantastic!”

“I know! Let’s celebrate. Abby, Keela, what do you say? Lunch at The Chinese Dragon, my treat.”

An hour later, having overindulged on the delicious array of dishes Daniel had ordered, Keela finished her green tea and read her fortune cookie. She thought about her patient Joan Haverhill and the quick lesson she’d given on how to read them. “A smile is your passport into the hearts of others...” In bed, she added, then laughed inwardly, but it must have carried to her eyes.

“What?” Daniel said, nursing the last of his beer.

She crinkled her nose and shook her head. “Nothing.” Think fast and change the subject. “Isn’t it exciting that your pitch landed the deal?”

“I’m still in shock.” He finished the celebratory longneck beer, looking a little absentminded. Obviously the guy wasn’t used to drinking at lunch. He broke open his fortune cookie after paying the bill. “Well, would you look at this—‘A dream you have will come true.’ Who says fortune cookies are just a bunch of fluff?”

For a moment Keela gazed at Daniel, who didn’t look away. She got the distinct impression he was seeing her differently, maybe for the first time? Neither blinked during the staring contest, until her heart thumped a quick run when an unwanted thought about his fortune slipped into her mind. In bed. Blink!

Abby opened her cookie, then grimaced.

Grateful for a reason to pull away from Daniel’s deep green and enchanting eyes, Keela watched the fortysomething Abby—with her carefully quaffed and weaved blond hair and meticulously made-up eyes—read her fortune.

“‘Land is always on the mind of a flying bird’? What does that even mean?”

They shared a group laugh, bellies full and spirits flying high, with a little something extra revving up on Keela’s side of the table. Then they all got up as Daniel left an impressive tip for the waitstaff, and headed back to the clinic for the afternoon appointments.

* * *

An hour later, Daniel Delaney sat at his desk and pretended he hadn’t noticed a single one of Keela O’Mara’s attributes. Huge blue eyes? Nah, not his thing. Light brown, shoulder-length hair with gold spun through it? Nope. Never even registered. And that smile, where the sweetest and cheeriest disposition shone bright? Well, he did appreciate that—attributed it to her Irishness—but only because it made working with her as easy as the afternoon breeze off Sandpiper Beach. He laughed gently. Who said he couldn’t be poetic? Besides, he’d need her dependability, since the quiet little clinic was about to get busy. Hallelujah.

He caught himself staring, elbow on his desk, leaning into his fist, practically drooling while daydreaming about Keela and the future of his clinic, then sat straight. Good thing he’d had a beer at lunch and could blame the shift in attitude toward Keela on that. The last thing he needed was to let his thoughts get out of control. The clinic was all that mattered.

Remember Kathryn, how she left you. If that didn’t sober him up, nothing could. Relationships were a sticky process, and he wasn’t the only one with a gut-wrenching history.

He totally understood that by their age, his being thirty-three and Keela’s thirty, everyone, unless they were monks, seemed to have relationship track records, and those histories usually weren’t good. Keela had taken back her maiden name, O’Mara, and her experience slanted toward disaster. As in love, marriage, betrayal and divorce. Yeah, he’d heard most of the story, because the walls were thin in his clinic and Keela was friendly with her clients, many of whom were women. If they dared to ask if she was married, she’d spout her well-rehearsed ten-second reply. Met a man online, traveled all the way to America to meet ’im, fell in love, got married and had a kid all within a year. Now I’m happily divorced, thanks for asking.

Or “tanks for askin’” as it sounded coming from those sweet lips. Nope, nope, nope, not supposed to notice those, either.

But that was the truth Daniel had to live with: a fellow American—thanks a lot, buddy—had soured the lovely Ms. O’Mara’s view on men in general, and most especially American men, of which he was a card-carrying member. Never again! She’d often said that after getting off the phone chasing down yet another late child-support payment. The guy seemed like a total jerk and Daniel wondered what she’d ever seen in him.

He could totally relate to the never again part, thanks to Kathryn before she’d walked away...and he’d begged her to stay, to work things out. In fact, he and Keela could bond on their failed relationships. But he’d never dare discuss what had happened in his personal life with an employee. Only his family knew the whole story.

Ah, geez, all this thinking and overthinking had begun to make the room spin. Why had he had that beer with lunch? To celebrate, that was why, and he deserved it. He clicked on a patient file on his computer for distraction but had to wait while it loaded.

Was he looking? For another relationship? It had been almost two years since Emma had died and Kathryn had left. He dug his fingertips into his hair and gave a quick massage to ease the sudden tension sprouting at his temples and traveling upward, hoping it would help shake him out of this line of thinking. Instead of that happening, his personal stats popped up—thirty-three, still living at the family hotel, rooming with his brothers, Mark and Conor, in a detached three-bedroom suite to save money—but costing his parents good cash, since they couldn’t rent it out. Not exactly a prize, was he? He rationalized he’d be there only until his business was out of the infancy stage. Who knew how hard it would be to take a private practice and make it work? But he’d made great progress today. Soon his bookkeeping would go from red to black and he’d be able to move out of the hotel.

The patient file didn’t have the specific information he was looking for, so he clicked on the medical history.

And while he scrolled through the abundant reports, he went back to thinking about women in general, to get his mind off Keela. He’d had many girlfriends, but he’d never been in a relationship that lasted more than two months. Until Kathryn. Even though being with her had struck the wrath of the universe on him. Kathryn had grabbed his attention the first time they’d met. The more he got to know her, the sexier she got, and they’d fallen into bed early on. She liked that he was a doctor, and he liked that she was not only a successful businesswoman, but personally independent. As it turned out, to a fault. An independent woman who wanted nothing to do with getting married, even after she’d accidentally gotten pregnant. Getting involved with a levelheaded woman might still be an aspiration one day, but only after he figured out the past. He’d loved Kathryn far more than she’d loved him. Turns out, after a man had his heart removed with surgical precision, it took a long time to grow one back.

He closed out the file, started searching through a pile of reports on his desk. A committed relationship would mean trying to live up to his parents’, who seemed to have the ideal. His grandfather spoke about his Mary as if she’d been a saint. Daniel remembered his grandmother as being sweet and kind, and Grandda was definitely prone to exaggeration, but a saint? Still, the old man’s face lit up with love anytime he mentioned her name.

Daniel had thought he’d found that kind of love with Kathryn, but he’d been astoundingly mistaken. He’d asked her to marry him within the first six months, long before she’d gotten pregnant, but she said she wasn’t ready. He’d sensed her hesitation when it came to commitment, but like a fool, he thought they only needed more time together, as though two years wasn’t long enough to make up her mind. After losing Emma, she’d withdrawn and pulled away. Weren’t they supposed to cling together at a time like that? He’d done his best to support her, to reach out to her, even got her bereavement treatment. Her therapist said she needed time. Daniel gave it to her, but she didn’t improve. She kept to herself and pushed him further and further away. Finally, she’d opened up and told him how she needed to be alone to heal, so even while drowning in his own pain and grief, needing her more than ever, he let her leave. Because that was what you did when you loved someone. He was hardly surviving, and in such pain over the loss of their baby he could barely work, yet he put her needs and wishes first. Alone, the pain so astounding he didn’t think he could go on, he tried.

He’d always expected her to come back. He clung to the thought. But she never did. Then one day she’d sent for her things and delivered a cold and calculated goodbye letter. Last he’d heard, a year ago, she was in a relationship with someone new, and he wished her the best, he honestly did.

But Daniel was still stuck in limbo.

He no longer fooled himself about ever being able to find his parents’ and grandparents’ kind of love. He should’ve seen the signs early on, when Kathryn kept putting on the brakes whenever he pushed to get married. She wasn’t into him in the same way, and he couldn’t see it then. The memory sent a sharp pain through him. How had he not seen it? Because falling in love had blinded him.

After the shock and gut-wrenching trauma of losing what he’d held dearest, a family, he was nowhere near ready to look for a relationship again. He couldn’t trust his instincts.

Man, he was frustrated—why couldn’t he find that report? He shuffled a pile of papers around.

Keela popped into his thoughts again, her smile, her cheerful outlook.

And why was he still thinking about Keela? He should’ve noticed and heeded the not-so-subtle omen when his grandfather, after first hearing about his new employee, had said, “Did you know that the name Keela in Irish means ‘beauty that only poetry can capture’?” Where did Gramps get that stuff?

Daniel glanced across his desk at another mound of papers, plus a patient appointment list that promised to keep him working until 8:00 p.m. These days the only commitment he could handle was his medical practice, a full-time job and relationship rolled into one, and it was all he could manage. There simply wasn’t room for anything else. So here he was, working like a lunatic to get his business off the ground, with a PT assistant who’d started to lure his mind off the goal. He frowned and stared at his desk. Maybe that was why he was always gruffer with her than he intended. Self-preservation? You bet.

He sighed. Today had made everything different. He’d landed the City College account. He couldn’t afford to take his eye off the prize. He shivered. What if he lost everything...again? He couldn’t bear to think of the consequences. A kernel of apprehension over the future of his clinic quickly grew to full-out anxiety, which prompted him to call out. “Keela!”

She arrived in his office, sat, brows lifted, eyes sparkling like they had all through lunch. So alluring, so off-limits. Guilt filtered through him. Nip the attraction in the bud, and file it under the heading of survival. He swallowed and forged ahead, but not before noticing her delicate fingers lacing and unlacing in her lap. He’d made her nervous and he hadn’t said a word. Already feeling like a heel, he so hated what he was about to do.

“So here’s the deal,” he said in a firm tone, skipping any niceties. “We’re going to be challenged like never before with the City College athletes. I’ll be spending time away from the clinic to attend their practices and games, and more responsibility will fall on your shoulders. So my question is, are you up for that?”

She sat on the edge of the chair in his office and nodded, her smile gone, a serious stare replacing the earlier glow. The power he wielded over her as her boss pinched behind his sternum, but he couldn’t back down.

“I can’t settle for excuses about back East weather holding up our supplies. It’s unprofessional and can’t happen again.”

“I’ll do my best to keep us stocked. If you give me the okay, I’ll order far in advance or set up a standing order. It’s just we’ve been counting pennies until now.” Her fingers kept lacing and unlacing.

“Not anymore.” This was his lifeline. The clinic had saved him after losing baby Emma, and when Kathryn no longer needed or wanted him. He shuddered when he considered what he might have done without the support of his family and this business venture to pull him through. This 4Cs deal gave him the chance to morph from struggling and heartbroken to successful businessman. His personal life might still be in shambles, but dammit, this clinic would shine because he was in control of this one thing. Work.

“From now on we have to work like a fine-tuned engine. Every minute will be put to good use. Last-minute childcare issues will be your issue, not mine. That can’t happen again. Got it?” Because he might not survive spending another afternoon with her daughter and the heart-wrenching feelings it had brought up of Emma, innocent and helpless, and beyond his control to save.

How could he expect Keela to never have childcare issues or for the vendors to never screw up? She sat quietly, and he felt like an ogre reading her mind, but he continued full-on. “Can you deliver? Because your job depends on it.” There, he’d said it—given her an ultimatum, his employee of the month, and he’d just entered the running for despicable boss of the year.

She looked stunned, anxious, chewing her lower lip as what he’d just said registered. “Yes. Of course.” Insecurity had slipped into her voice.

“Good.” She needed her job; what else could he expect her to say? Bastard.

He forced himself to look at her again. Seeing her squirm over the possibility of losing her job made him queasy, the mistrust he’d just planted in her usual open and honest gaze made him want to kick himself, but he ground his molars and kept quiet. She rose, serious and quiet.

He swallowed with difficulty. Great going. He’d just successfully ripped the shine off their luncheon and put fear and dread into the best employee he’d ever hired.

Once she’d left, he followed her out of his office, on his way to the reception desk in hopes of finding a fresh pot of coffee. Hating how he felt, he swore to never have a beer at lunch again, no matter how much he had to celebrate. What a mess.

That evening, when Keela left for home, she didn’t stop at his door to say good-night like she usually did. He’d been a complete ass, so what did he expect—Mother Theresa?

She didn’t deserve to take the heat for her ex-husband hanging her up at the last minute, but Daniel had heaped it on her anyway. Wasn’t the mark of a good boss compassion, and shouldn’t a skilled businessman be able to find a balance between laying down the rules and reading a riot act? Sitting behind his desk, he dropped his head into his hands.

Spending an afternoon with Anna the other day had nearly been his undoing, seeing what he’d never have, grieving over a frilly tutu. Wishing life could be different. Then today, he and Keela had looked at each other in a special way during lunch. Beer or no beer, he’d felt that zing down to his toes. And for an instant he’d wondered if life could be different. The mere thought of opening up to a woman again had scared the egg rolls out of him, yet he’d considered it for that single moment. Just now he’d overcompensated for both instances by hiding behind the tough-boss act.

And it sure as hell didn’t feel right.

* * *

Friday morning Daniel appeared at Keela’s office door. She’d come in a few minutes early to make sure she was up to date with all her supply orders, and also to mentally prepare for her appointments lined up for the day. He looked...regretful maybe, or was that what she’d wanted to see because he’d been tough on her yesterday? “Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” He stepped inside. “Okay if I sit?”

“Of course.” She stopped what she was doing to give him her full attention.

“I need to apologize for being a jerk. I was being unreasonable and I came down too hard on you yesterday evening.”

“You were right, though. I wasn’t assertive enough regarding the supplies. That company isn’t the only one and I should have made some waves. And I should always have a backup plan where Ron is concerned. It was just that Mrs. Jenkins had that hair appointment.” There she went, overexplaining out of insecurity. “I won’t let that happen again. Promise.” She said everything the way she’d practiced on her drive in that morning, fearing her job was at stake if she didn’t.

“I thought I was supposed to be apologizing to you.” He stared at her for a second while considering her carefully prepared explanation. “I won’t let it happen again, either. Promise.” Then he stood, turned and left.

After she’d married Ron and Anna had been born, Keela had tried hard to please him. She’d done it because she could tell his attitude toward her had changed. He’d had to marry her out of obligation, and though he’d never said it aloud, he’d always sent the subtle message: he was doing her a huge favor.

Just now, with Daniel, she’d fallen into an old and bad habit of bending over backward to please. But Ron had always managed to find fault somewhere, somehow, no matter how hard she’d tried. She was never good enough—like having a daughter instead of a son. Once she’d made a mistake, he’d never let her off the hook. Eventually, she gave up even trying to please him, feeling such a failure, and he’d used that as an excuse to seek a relationship with someone else. Like it was her fault! Once a self-assured young woman, Keela had become unconfident, always doubting and second-guessing herself.

Now, under Daniel’s scrutiny, she’d reverted to old habits. Maybe because all men were the same? But Daniel had apologized, then listened to her explanation and apologized again. In that regard, he was nothing like her ex.

* * *

Daniel finished his intake assessment of the quarterback of the 4Cs football team and arrived in his office to find the telephone light blinking.

“Your mom’s on the phone!” Abby called from the reception desk, making him wonder how long she’d been on hold.

He’d been keeping busy all morning to avoid his thoughts about how he’d come off as a boss, how he’d intentionally intimidated Keela and how lousy he felt about it, and he knew any conversation with his mother would draw him back into the realm of the thinking and feeling. He considered asking Abby to tell her he was busy, but caught himself. Mom always knew when he was avoiding her.

“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” He opted to sound rushed and on the run.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I’ve had a brainstorm and just wanted to run something by you.”

“Okay.”

“Dad and I have been discussing how to draw more visitors to the hotel this season, and I got the bright idea to add more amenities. You know, like massages and facials. My hairstylist has a part-time esthetician who would be willing to do some moonlighting, but I’m at a loss for where to find a massage therapist. You’re kind of in that biz, right? Any thoughts?”

He pulled in his chin. He wasn’t exactly in that biz. He didn’t run a spa, but he did happen to know a former massage therapist turned PT tech. “Keela.” For all the times she had to chase down her ex for child support, he figured she could use some extra money.

“Keela?”

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. This would give him a reason to talk to her again, and to hopefully mend the damage he’d caused yesterday afternoon. He hated how things felt in the clinic today, all strained and quiet. Even though he’d apologized, he suspected that wasn’t nearly enough.

“Yeah, Keela. Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t I bring her to Grandda’s birthday party on Sunday and you can talk to her about it then. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me. She has a daughter, right? Tell her to bring her, too.”

“Sure thing.” Daniel hung up feeling more positive than he had all day. Problem solved?

* * *

When Keela passed Daniel in the hallway, he gave a reassuring smile, the first she’d seen from him all day. Though it did seem forced, it was better than the grim face he’d been wearing. He didn’t look like a man who wanted to fire her on the spot, which helped her breathe a bit easier. By her second-to-last appointment that day, there he was hanging out in her office doorway again. What was up?

He appeared uncomfortable, as if he might have to tell her some bad news. More bad news? A sudden chill traveled up her spine. Insecurity made her wonder, what if he was going to fire her? She was still in the probationary period, and he had the right to call the shots on her future. Now the chill turned to a cold hard lump in her stomach. What would she do if he did?

“Are you available on Sunday?”

Wait, what? “Sunday?” Did he expect her to work weekends now, too? She would if it meant keeping her job.

He stepped inside her office but remained standing, a torn expression on his face.

“Yes, Sunday, it’s my grandfather’s birthday, and we’re having a big party. I thought you and Anna might like to come. It’s my way of trying to make up for being the boss from hell yesterday.”

“Truly?” He’d just veered into completely different territory from Ron, who never even thought about apologizing, or doing something nice to make up for his actions.

“Thought maybe you two could use a day out with fresh air and good food.”

The refreshing shift from “same old story” to “second verse, better than the first” buoyed her spirits.

“A party at The Drumcliffe?” She broke into a grin that came straight from her heart. Yeah, apparently she was that easy. “We’d love to come. Did I ever tell you I stayed at your hotel around six years ago, when Ron first brought me to visit?”

“You’re kidding.”

“I loved that place right from the start. That’s why I came back here to live when we divorced. Paso Robles is okay, but it’s too far inland. Plus I wanted to get away from him and his new lady.” A burst of excitement had her talking more than she probably should, another old, hopefully not annoying, habit. But she’d just been asked out by her boss for a family gathering, and in her mind, that was a big deal. “Something about the cliffs and the ocean reminded me of Sligo Bay, back home. But it’s much less rugged here. Anyway, I think your family owns a beautiful hotel.”

“Wow. Small world. Well, I’m glad you like it. So you’ll come, then?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Oh, another thing.” He’d turned to leave, a pleased smile on his face, but paused. “No gift, okay? The old guy has everything he could possibly ever need. Your company will be more than enough.” Daniel looked back, a new glint in those verdant green eyes. “I’ll pick you up at one.”

“You’re picking us up?”

“I invited you, didn’t I?”

Okay. Now what was she supposed to do with that? She fiddled with her hair, tucking one side behind her ear, a faint sense of happiness tingling in her chest. She wasn’t getting fired, and he’d invited her to a family gathering. Was this an apology date?

* * *

Sunday turned out to be a gorgeous sunny spring day at Sandpiper Beach, and Keela hadn’t been this excited about going somewhere in a long time. Anna was practically bouncing off the walls of the tiny and barely upgraded 1930s beach cottage.

“Yay, a birthday party.”

“Remember, this is a grown-up party, so it won’t be that much fun.”

“Will there be games?”

“I don’t think so, my love, but I’m sure there’ll be cake.”

“Yay! And ice cream?”

“What’s a birthday without ice cream?” Keela hoped there’d be ice cream, otherwise she’d have to take Anna to the parlor near their clinic for a cone afterward.

Her daughter rushed to the cramped living room to peer out the window. “I like Dr. Daniel!”

He’d been surprisingly kind to Anna last Wednesday, even though at first he’d acted uninterested and maybe even a little put out about it. But thanks to her daughter’s approval, and remembering that instant over lunch when something special seemed to click between them, Keela had taken a second look at her boss. The other day, he’d reminded her of Ron, but then he’d apologized and veered into new territory with the invitation. Maybe she liked Dr. Daniel, too?

Butterflies fought for territory in her stomach as she smoothed her hands over her hair and checked her makeup in the mirror of the tiny pink-tiled bathroom. Too much? Not enough? Oh, what did it matter? Daniel Delaney hardly knew she existed. Beyond being a good employee, that was. The invitation was his way to apologize for taking his usual moderately gruff self and upgrading to outright brusque. Sure, she’d noticed, and it didn’t make a lot of sense, especially after their fun lunch together. But once she’d realized he hadn’t planned to fire her, she was fine with whatever he needed to do. This wasn’t a date. The man always seemed to go out of his way to avoid looking at her, unless they had specific patient care to discuss. Yet Thursday over Chinese food he’d watched her with clear interest, nearly nonstop.

His deep brown hair was straight and thick, and she liked how he wore it swept off his forehead and neatly trimmed around his ears and neck. But what she liked the most was his Irish grin, wide and friendly, reminding her of being back home. She hadn’t noticed it before lunch on Thursday, since he rarely smiled like that at work.

He was medium height, maybe five-ten or -eleven, but far taller than her five foot three. She always had to look up to see his eyes. She took a quick inhalation. Oh, those eyes, moss-green and downright swoon-worthy... But wait, she didn’t do that anymore—think about guys. Or swoon. After the heartbreak she’d been through with Ron, and the divorce, no man was worth it. Besides, Daniel was her boss. Only a fool would risk her job by getting involved with the boss.

Anna had to come first these days. Nothing else mattered.

Keela’s phone rang, and when she saw it was her ex-husband, her earlier hopeful mood slumped. What would he be calling about? Ever since his girlfriend, Ingrid—the woman who’d brought about their divorce—had given birth to their son, it seemed Ron had lost interest in Anna.

Stiff upper lip. “Hey, Ron, what’s up?”

“Thought we’d pick Anna up and take her to lunch with us.”

“Oh, shoot, any other day would’ve been great, but we’ve got a birthday party to go to.” Why today? He frequently skipped his visitation days, like last Wednesday, and this wasn’t the usual weekend they’d agreed to, even though he’d never come to get her since the baby was born. Now, out of the blue—

“There’ll be other birthday parties,” he said. “It’s time she met her little brother.”

She could have done that on Wednesday, eejit. Keela had to think fast, since she knew how he always insisted on getting his way. “Oh, yes, I think she’d love to meet her little brother, Diesel.” The baby had to be nine or ten months by now. “But she’s been looking forward to this party so much. She’s dressed and ready to go. How about next Saturday or Sunday? She could sleep over, even—that is if you wanted her to.” Keela also knew not to push Anna on Ron, or he’d pull back even more. The fact that he’d seemed to have nearly forgotten their daughter since he’d had his son made Keela’s heart squeeze. “Would that be all right?”

Silence. “Ron, are you there?”

“We’ll see about next weekend. Okay, gotta go.”

Just like old times, she’d messed up and he’d gotten ticked off. He hung up before Keela could say goodbye, probably avoiding giving her a chance to mention he was late again with his child support payments—was that why he’d skipped out on Wednesday? But that didn’t matter nearly as much as his not even bothering to ask to speak to Anna. That was his routine. If he didn’t get his way, someone had to pay, and today it was her sweet and completely innocent daughter.

Keela had gotten bloody good at taking his crap, but Anna never deserved it. To hell with that stiff upper lip. Her chin quivered on her daughter’s behalf, and her eyes blinked several times. She took a quick inhale, hoping to recover. Anna couldn’t see her like this; it would upset her. Thankfully, she’d had the conversation in the bathroom, and her eager daughter was still keeping watch at the front window. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

“Mom! Dr. Daniel’s at the door!”

A surprising burst of excitement lit up Keela’s chest—Daniel was here—helping her forget about the call. She wiped at her eyes and did a quick once-around in front of the full-length mirror on the bathroom door, ensuring her tan pants didn’t make her backside look too big, and that her tank top with a matching camellia-pink sweater didn’t show too much on the topside. Were her earrings okay? Would it be too much if she slipped on a bracelet?

What was going on with her? It wasn’t like it was a date. It was the continuation of an apology, though this would be the first time she’d ever been with Daniel around his family. Would he be different? He was always so serious at work.

“Mommy, he’s knocking!”

Keela sucked in a breath. Come to your senses. She rushed to the door and, trying not to seem too eager, opened it and peeked around the corner. “Hiya.”

“Hey. You ready?”

Not for what she saw standing before her. Sure, she’d seen him in the medical clinic’s uniform of khaki cargo pants and white polo shirt five days a week, and he’d worn a suit the other day for his pitch session at the college. But today he wore straight-legged jeans with a pale green, collared, long-sleeved shirt and a skinny dark green tie, looking very trendy. The button-down shirt was narrow cut and hugged his torso, giving her the impression he possessed something along the line of washboard abs. She forced her gaze upward to his still-smiling face, seeing something different in his eyes, too. Apparently, while she’d been checking him out, he’d done the same, and now her palms tingled.

“I’d invite you in, but there’s not much to see.” The “cottage” was more like a bungalow, with tiny rooms, kitchen and bath, but it was their home.

“Not a problem. You’re looking great, by the way,” he said, seeming on the verge of saying more. But Anna launched herself from behind.

“Hi. Remember me?”

“How could I forget?”

“How old is your granddad?”

“He’ll be eighty-five today.”

“Wow, is he alive?”

Daniel laughed. “Very much so. Are you ready to go meet him?”

“Yay!”

Even though Daniel played along with Anna and their quick conversation seemed to come easily, Keela sensed something behind his smile. Tension of some sort? Pain? It made her wonder what his story was about children.

They arrived at The Drumcliffe Hotel in a few short minutes, Anna chattering the entire ride, relieving any guilt Keela harbored about not letting her see her father today. She felt a little sad, though, realizing how much her daughter enjoyed people. And since the divorce, what with Keela now working full-time and going to school before that, Anna didn’t get to go out that much.

Mrs. Jenkins, an older neighbor lady, had offered to do childcare for practically a song on weekdays when they’d first moved in, which was a huge help, but Anna didn’t have anyone to play with. If Keela could afford it, she would’ve liked to put her in private preschool, but that was out of the question. She wouldn’t dare ask Ron for more money. At least in the fall she’d start kindergarten and would be around kids her age then. Life was far from perfect, but good enough, and today promised to be special. What more could Keela ask?

Daniel pulled into a reserved parking space near one of the secluded suites. The two-story hotel sat on prime beachfront property and was the main tourist site in tiny Sandpiper Beach. Though she hadn’t visited since moving back to town, Keela remembered it well. It seemed a mystery why such a lovely place had trouble renting rooms. The problem was, she had heard, visitors chose to either continue up the road to Carmel or stop first in Pismo Beach, rather than venture into this sleepy little town. But they didn’t know what they were missing. Sure, the hotel seemed a bit dated, in need of some sprucing up, yet the potential was obvious. To Keela, anyway.

A narrow walkway lined with manicured shrubs separated the hotel from the beach, and nearly all the second-story guest rooms had a magnificent sea view. So much potential. To the right of the hotel was a large grassy area with a putting green, surrounded by palm trees and bushes, and beyond that the dunes. In honor of the birthday and the many guests, they’d set up several round tables with built-in umbrellas. Groups of people milled about, wearing bright springtime colors that complimented the grass, light blue sky and teal-colored ocean backdrop. Keela would never get tired of the sound of the sea, or that special salted scent.

She inhaled, remembering why she loved this town so much. Finding and moving to Sandpiper Beach had been the one good thing about getting her divorce, leaving Ron inland and moving to the coast.

“There he is, Oh Danny Boy. How’s the form? Are y’well?” someone called out.

For an instant, at the sound of the familiar brogue, Keela thought she was back in Ennis. She nearly laughed aloud when she glanced up to see an old fellow speed-walking across the lawn in bright green knickers with high socks, a yellow-and-green argyle-patterned sweater vest and a newsboy cap jauntily sitting atop his thinning crop of white hair. Why did men enjoy dressing in strange costumes for a game of golf? Using his putter as a cane as he approached, Daniel’s grandfather was certainly a vision from the past.

“Get ready,” Daniel said out of the corner of his mouth to Keela. “Grandda! Happy birthday to ya.”

Now even Daniel had a touch of the Irish to him. Keela’s smile doubled as a home-sweet-home feeling circled around her like a hug.

“Is this the lovely lass from Éire?”

“Yes,” Daniel said. “This is Keela.” He glanced at her with a sweet and proud grin that she’d never seen before, and momentarily, she felt off balance.

“’Tis a pleasure, Keela!” The elderly man grabbed her into a bear hug, and laughing, she hugged him back. He smelled like Guinness and her own grandfather’s spicy men’s cologne, and a pang of nostalgia threatened to make her eyes tear up, though she fought it.

“So nice to meet you, too, Mr. Delaney.” She saw the familiar twinkle she’d noticed in Daniel’s eyes earlier, and the same brackets around his grinning mouth. There was no doubt they were family.

“Call me Padraig, please.” He stood there leaning on his golf club, taking her in and seeming to appreciate what he saw. Then his gaze shifted to her side. “And who might this little elf be?”

“My daughter, Anna.”

“Hello, lassie.” He bent over, took Anna’s hand and shook it. She giggled. “What age are ya?”

“Five.” Up went the splayed-fingered hand.

“Almost,” Keela added.

“Almost five. Are we gonna have cake and ice cream?”

He blurted a laugh. “Oh, you bet. We Delaneys know how to throw a birthday party, now, don’t we? Why don’t you let me show you the cake?” With her hand firmly in his, they set off toward a big table on the hotel patio that held a huge cake and a punch bowl. A large, built-in barbecue was going full blast behind the table, the mouthwatering aromas of grilled tri-tip and chicken competing for her attention.

“He’s full of life, isn’t he?” Keela couldn’t help her grin.

“Oh, he’s full of it, all right,” Daniel said, following his grandfather toward the table and a group of people gathered there. The redheaded woman, she assumed, was his mother.

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