Father, Meet Son

Safe Harbor obstetrician Adrienne Cavill couldn’t love her nephew more if he were her own child. And no deadbeat dad is going to claim the little boy she practically raised.

Detective-turned-P.I. Wade Hunter has missed five years of his son’s life and nothing’s chasing him away this time. That includes the pretty doctor who’s giving his child everything—except the father he needs.

Now that she knows the reasons why he left, how can Adrienne keep Wade from his son, who’s over the moon about having his dad in his life? The rugged ex-cop’s having a similar effect on her. Will Christmas bring Adrienne the family she never thought she could have?

“We’ll never be perfect. We can only do our best, take each day as it comes, and forgive ourselves for honest mistakes.”

Inside Wade, a hard knot dissolved. Hearing the words in Adrienne’s soft voice gave them power.

The power to heal. And the power to bring the two of them together.

Impulsively, Wade reached for her hands and rose, drawing her up. “I need you,” he said, gathering her against him. With her hair flowing around him and her mouth inches from his, they were lost in a private, precious world.

“I need you, too,” she whispered.

After that, there was no more place for words.

Dear Reader,

Readers often ask where writers get our ideas. Sometimes, we can’t give a good answer, because we don’t know. However, I can trace Adrienne and Wade’s story to an article in my local newspaper.

A family attorney cited an influx of nurses from a hospital, eager to terminate the paternal rights of absentee biological fathers. The reason? At the hospital a woman had died, leaving a ten-year-old daughter who’d never known her father. This total stranger showed up, claimed his daughter and moved out of state, away from all her friends and other relatives. Because he’d never signed away his rights, he was able to do that. The horrified nurses hurried to the lawyer to protect their own children.

Adrienne, an obstetrician who works the night shift in Labor and Delivery, believes her late sister was abandoned by the father of her little boy, whom Adrienne plans to adopt. But Wade Hunter has a very different story, and he can prove it. Now who’s going to raise little Reggie?

If you’ve read previous Safe Harbor Medical books, you’ll recognize many of the characters. But if you’re new to the series, don’t worry. Each book stands alone.

Welcome to Adrienne and Wade’s new world!

Best,

Jacqueline Diamond

The Surprise

Holiday Dad

Jacqueline Diamond

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Although Jacqueline Diamond’s more than ninety published novels include romantic suspense, romantic comedy and Regency romances, medical stories are a particular favorite. Jackie’s interest in medicine began with her father, who was the only doctor in the small town of Menard, Texas, before becoming a psychiatrist in Nashville, Tennessee. Jackie and her husband of thirty-five years live in Orange County, California, where she’s active in Romance Writers of America. You can learn more about the Safe Harbor Medical series at www.jacquelinediamond.com and say hello to Jackie at her Facebook site, JacquelineDiamondAuthor.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Excerpt

Chapter One

Wade Hunter trudged up the rickety stairs of the rent-by-the-week apartment hotel. As he climbed to his second-floor unit in the fading October daylight, he repeated the words that had kept him going in the months since the Northern California town of Pine Tree had laid off half its police force: “Today something will change my life for the better.”

He didn’t bother glancing at the handful of mail he’d pulled from his locked mailbox. That could wait until he sat down. His feet hurt from his part-time job providing private security for a cluster of warehouses, his cheek still smarted from the punch he’d taken at his second job as a bar bouncer and his heart ached from losing the close-knit group of fellow officers who’d been like a family.

Quit feeling sorry for yourself. You’ll turn this around.

Inside, Wade tossed the envelopes and advertisements on a chipped end table. After hanging his jacket over the back of a chair, he kicked off his shoes and sank onto the creaky couch. With a sense of homecoming, he picked up his lovingly polished guitar and flexed his hands.

For a few indulgent moments, he fingered chords and hummed a country-and-western song. Not loudly, though. Downstairs neighbors had complained the last time he sang full-out.

What were they complaining about? It had been a reasonable hour, and he’d won prizes in karaoke contests.

Too tired to get up and stick a frozen dinner in the microwave, Wade reached for the mail. Most of it had been forwarded several times—there’d been an interim month when he stayed at a more expensive motel—but there was one address he’d kept current. And here it was, the envelope he’d been waiting for, from the California Bureau of Security and Investigative Services.

His breath catching in his throat, Wade opened it.

His muscles relaxed. It confirmed that he’d passed the exam to earn his private investigator’s license. All he had to do was submit the licensing fee of $175.

Ouch. He’d been saving every penny he could, but that wasn’t easy, especially with child-support payments. Still, this license might help Wade find a job with a detective agency. While he’d prefer a position at another police department, layoffs throughout California made that unlikely in the short term.

Becoming a P.I. wasn’t what he’d dreamed of nearly a decade ago when he’d earned his degree in criminal justice. But if there was one thing Wade had learned in his thirty years, it was to focus on today and let the future take care of itself.

Invigorated by the sense of moving forward at last, he heated a beef dinner before scanning the other mail. Since he kept up with his bills and bank statements online, these were mostly ads. One long envelope, creased and marked with forwarding addresses, bore the logo of a law firm with a return address in the Southern California town of Safe Harbor.

Wade stiffened. The only people he’d stayed in touch with in his hometown were his father and, indirectly, a woman he’d rather not think about. Now here was a letter from Geoff Humphreys, attorney. According to the logo, the man specialized in family law.

No doubt this had something to do with Vicki Cavill. She’d driven Wade out of town by threatening to file false charges that could have derailed his law enforcement career. She’d also deprived him of the most precious thing in his life.

And, goaded by bad advice and his own immaturity, he’d let her.

No more running. Since the first of the year, she hadn’t cashed his child-support checks. The woman was hopelessly disorganized. This wasn’t the first time she’d gone for months before cashing a batch of checks, although it had never been this long.

Now she’d apparently hired a lawyer. Did she plan to shake him down for larger payments? If so, she’d have a fight on her hands.

He tore open the envelope.

* * *

“WHAT DO YOU mean he won’t waive his parental rights?” Dr. Adrienne Cavill stared across the desk at Geoff Humphreys. “My sister barely knew him, and he abandoned his son as an infant. Vicki’s will appointed me as Reggie’s guardian. Why should what’s-his-name have any rights?”

Hearing the shrillness in her voice, she stopped to take a deep breath. Working the overnight shift at Safe Harbor Medical Center’s labor and delivery unit wreaked havoc on her body’s sleep rhythms. And although the hospital’s attorney had mentioned there might be complications when he’d referred her to Geoff, she hadn’t anticipated any serious obstacles to adopting her nephew.

She wished now that she’d pushed harder to complete the adoption right after her sister’s death in a single-car crash last New Year’s Eve, but it had seemed little more than a formality. Also, between working long hours to pay off medical-school bills and providing a loving home for Reggie, Adrienne simply hadn’t had the energy.

“Matters were not exactly as your sister represented them.” With his receding hairline and calm manner, Geoff had a reassuringly paternal air. He was also the husband of a popular teacher at Reggie’s elementary school and a father himself. “He’s been sending checks to her at a post-office box. When I reached him by phone yesterday, he was wondering why they hadn’t been cashed since the first of the year.”

“He was helping support Vicki?” Adrienne hadn’t paid much attention to her sister’s messy finances, aside from the legal necessity of closing out Vicki’s meager checking account and paying off her bills after her death. Suffering from bipolar disorder and drinking heavily, Vicki had spent every penny she earned as a housecleaner, and more. “She described him as a deadbeat.”

“He emailed me copies of the canceled checks.” Geoff gave a sympathetic sigh. “He also says that he sent gifts for his son. I presume she gave them to your nephew without revealing where they came from.”

Adrienne could scarcely speak. “I had no idea.” She rallied quickly. “But he’s a total stranger to Reggie, and Vicki appointed me as guardian.”

Geoff winced. Attorneys ought to have poker faces, Adrienne thought irritably, despite how much she’d appreciated his sympathetic glance a minute ago.

“I’m afraid that under California law, his rights trump yours,” the lawyer said. “His name is on the birth certificate, and he informs me that he took a DNA test.”

“And then skipped town,” Adrienne replied bitterly. “Where was he when Vicki went off her medication and my mom was dying? I moved in with them for Reggie’s sake. He could have used a father.”

“According to Mr. Hunter, your sister threatened to accuse him of abuse and file a restraining order,” Geoff said. “Since he was a police officer, that could have damaged or destroyed his career.”

Vicki had been capable of unreasonable behavior. Despite a sweet and loving nature during her best periods, she’d been unstable, to put it mildly. That didn’t excuse the man’s neglect of his son. “Surely he’s moved on. Married, with kids?”

“Not married, no kids,” Geoff said. “I hate to mention it, but there’s another issue.”

Oh, great. “Which is?”

“As Reggie’s father, he could claim control over the half interest in your house that his son inherited.” The lawyer paused to let that bombshell sink in.

“He could what?” Adrienne wasn’t sure why she bothered to reply, because she understood what she’d just heard. But it was unthinkable. “I’ll see him in court.”

Geoff raised a hand placatingly. “Naturally, a court will take into account what’s best for the boy. You’re an obstetrician with a steady income and a lifelong relationship with your nephew. And Mr. Hunter is, I understand, between jobs.”

“Unemployed?” Typical of Vicki’s boyfriends. “Naturally.”

“However,” the lawyer continued, “a court battle will be expensive and may not be in Reggie’s best interest. In the worst-case scenario, Wade Hunter wins, insists you buy out his half of the house and takes his son away. And since you’ve become his enemy, he refuses to allow contact.”

Tears of frustration burned behind Adrienne’s eyelids. She’d weathered so much these past few years, standing strong for her sister while taking responsibility for Reggie. Did his so-called father have a clue how hard she’d worked to find trustworthy sitters, to maintain friendships that substituted for family and to nurture her vulnerable nephew?

“An antagonistic attitude isn’t in your best interest or Reggie’s,” Geoff went on. “My recommendation is to reach an agreement with Mr. Hunter to share custody or to gain primary custody with generous visitation for him.”

Adrienne felt an urge to pound on something, except that as a doctor, she didn’t dare risk damaging her hands. Also, it would be childish. “What do you suggest I do next?”

Geoff smiled, clearly pleased at her decision to accept his advice. “He’s driving down this weekend to stay with his father, who lives in town. He’s eager to meet his little boy.”

“If he thinks he can blow into Reggie’s life and then out again...” Adrienne halted. Wasn’t that exactly what she hoped Wade Hunter would do? “Fine. Reggie’s sixth birthday party is Sunday but his real birthday isn’t until next Tuesday. I suppose this man will expect to see his son on his birthday.”

“I’ll find out if he can meet with you and me before then to lay some ground rules. How about Monday?”

Since that was one of her days off, Adrienne nodded. “Early afternoon would be best.”

“If it’s any consolation, he seemed like a rational fellow on the phone.”

Okay, so the man had paid support and sent a few presents. Still, it was hard to adjust her mental image when for so long she had pictured Reggie’s father as a jerk.

And he hadn’t been there for his son. Despite Vicki’s threats, he could have tried harder.

As she left the office, Adrienne considered how to break the news to her nephew. At this age, Reggie spun fantasies about his dad being a superhero who would swoop in to rescue him if trouble threatened. All Wade Hunter had to do was show a little kindness, and he’d capture the boy’s heart.

In reality it was Adrienne who’d swooped in to rescue Reggie. And she suspected that once this stranger tired of playing Daddy to a kid with real needs, she’d have to do it all over again.

Might as well wait until Monday to tell Reggie. She’d rather keep everything normal for him as long as possible.

* * *

WHEN WADE EXITED the freeway at Safe Harbor Boulevard, he inhaled the briny tang in the air with bittersweet nostalgia. This used to be his home. After six years away, he felt like a stranger.

Although he kept in touch with his father, Daryl, and they met for the occasional camping trip or for a weekend of watching NASCAR races, Wade rarely made the nine-hour drive to his hometown. His last visit had been years ago, and memories of a wrenching argument with his grandfather still stung. Now he figured he’d stay with Daryl while he secured his claim on his son and put out feelers for a job in the area.

Having worked at the Safe Harbor Police Department early in his career, Wade had applied there, but the department’s tight budget meant there were no hiring plans. He’d received the same response at other nearby agencies.

But while he might not be able to provide little Reggie a home instantly, he intended to demand custody as soon as it became feasible. As for the kid’s aunt, he appreciated that she’d stepped up to the plate in the past, but with a sister like Vicki, how reliable could she be, even if she was a doctor?

Wade steered his black sports coupe downhill from the freeway. At barely eight o’clock on Sunday morning, not much was stirring. He’d left Pine Tree late last night after working a final shift at the warehouse. Every paycheck counted.

To the south, he glimpsed an expanse of blue where the Pacific Ocean sprawled beyond the town’s namesake harbor. Wade could also see the six-story medical center where Vicki had barred him from the maternity ward after Reggie’s birth. Based on whatever she’d claimed about him, a guard had escorted him out, refusing to let him hold his son. Maybe he should have hired a lawyer and insisted on his rights, but the situation had caught him unprepared.

Anger and shame twisted inside him as he stopped for a red light. He’d do things differently now, but at twenty-four he’d been unsure of what it meant to be a father.

When he’d told his captain at the police department about Vicki’s threat to file for a restraining order if he insisted on contact, the man had warned him to keep his distance. Pay the child support and be more careful who he hooked up with in future had been the gist of the captain’s remarks. Wade’s father had put it more succinctly: Save yourself. Get the hell out of Dodge.

Now everything was about to change. He had a son, and he refused to let anyone stand between them.

Except that you have no idea how to be a father. Daryl hadn’t been much of a role model, acting more like a buddy than a parent. And in Pine Tree most of Wade’s socializing had been with other bachelors.

Well, he intended to learn. There were books and the internet and, he hoped, some long-dormant instincts.

A few blocks farther, he turned into an apartment complex and parked in a visitor’s spot. Carrying his laptop, his guitar and a duffel bag containing essential gear, he followed a path to the manager’s unit.

Carefully, Wade twisted the knob. His father, who got free rent by handling caretaker duties in addition to his job as a mechanic, had promised to leave his place unlocked rather than be awakened this early.

The instant the door opened, the smell of beer hit him. He stopped, uneasy. His father had a tendency to go on occasional drinking binges, punctuated by periods of sobriety. Daryl always claimed he could control his drinking, and despite serious doubts about that, Wade realized he had no power to run his father’s life.

He was reaching for the light switch when he heard a snore. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, Wade made out his father sprawled on the couch, sitting with his head thrown back as if he’d fallen asleep while watching TV. A couple beer cans littered the coffee table, but the TV was off. It must have a sleep setting.

Morning light, faint as it was, proved unkind to Daryl Hunter. Even at this angle, Wade could see the pallor of his father’s skin, the red veins in his nose and the thinning hair. Some of that might merely be signs of age, but—quick mental calculation—his dad was only fifty-two. At roughly the same age, the police chief in Pine Tree looked healthy and fit. Or had until he’d gained a few worry lines over the layoffs.

Stepping softly to avoid disturbing his father, Wade headed into the bedroom. The smell of unwashed sheets gave him pause. He hoped this was a weekend spree rather than an indication that his father’s condition was deteriorating.

Daryl had left his career as an Orange County deputy sheriff years ago, supposedly because he hated the shift schedule, although later Wade had wondered if alcohol had been a factor. Then he’d worked for a while at Grandpa Bruce’s detective agency, Fact Hunter Investigations, but Daryl and Grandpa had butted heads. Not surprising considering Bruce’s rigid nature, which was one reason Wade wouldn’t consider applying there now.

After depositing his cases on the carpet, he went out to his car and brought in his large bag and bedroll. In the living room, Daryl had shifted position and was now snoring full force.

Wade unrolled the sleeping bag on top of the bed and took off his shoes. As he lay waiting for sleep, he conceded that two things had become obvious.

He should forget about trying to find a job through his father’s contacts; if Daryl was drinking heavily, a recommendation from him was more likely to work against Wade than for him. Also, the sooner he found a job and his own apartment, the better.

* * *

BY NOON THE rackety-rackety sound of skate wheels outside put an end to Wade’s sleep. Irritated, he prowled out of the bedroom and said a quick hello to his father, who nodded from the small kitchen table. Daryl had poured himself a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice.

“Sorry, no welcome party.” His father gave him a shaky smile. “Extra key’s on the hook there. Bottom left.” He indicated a Peg-Board.

“Thanks.” Wade took it and went to shower, using the towels he’d brought. Then he stripped the bed, collected dirty towels and a box of detergent and went next door to the complex’s laundry room to start a load. Since he’d taken over this chore at thirteen following his parents’ divorce, the process felt familiar.

Back at the unit, Daryl had gone out, leaving a note that he was showing an apartment to a potential renter. Wade poured some cereal and checked his email while he ate. The attorney had confirmed a meeting at his office tomorrow with Dr. Cavill. The messages said she was willing to grant a supervised visit with Reggie on Tuesday, the boy’s birthday.

A supervised visit? The hell with that. Wade didn’t appreciate having this lady boss him around, and he didn’t plan to wait two days to see his son, either. Nervous energy surged through him. My boy. Although he didn’t yet have a sense of Reggie’s personality—how could he?—he felt a connection deep in his gut, a longing that he’d strained for years to deny. He was angry, too, at the woman who’d put him in this position and at himself for yielding.

How would the little boy react to meeting his dad after all these years? While it might be awkward, he hoped Vicki’s sister had had the decency to prepare her nephew for this major life change.

He recalled meeting Adrienne only once. She was blond like Vicki and had barely acknowledged the introduction, muttering an excuse about her busy schedule before brushing past him and out of the house. She’d been in her last year of medical school, as he recalled.

The lawyer had claimed that Adrienne was unaware that her sister had tried to wreck his career and that he’d made regular child-support payments. Maybe, maybe not.

By two-thirty the laundry was done. Daryl had returned and gone out again to repair a tenant’s sink, so Wade locked the door and went to his car. From the trunk, he withdrew the toy police-station set he’d bought for his son’s birthday. Although it was a few days early, a gift might help to smooth their meeting.

Relying on memory, he navigated across town toward the Cavill home. Passing his old hangouts—Krazy Kids Pizza, where he’d celebrated childhood birthdays, the Corner Tavern, where he and his fellow officers used to play pool, even the Bull’s Eye Shooting Range—reminded him that he’d accepted his exile too easily. He’d missed this place.

As Wade left the commercial area and rolled through quiet residential streets, it hit him once again that he was about to meet the most important person in his life. Vicki had, grudgingly, sent a few photographs after Wade threatened to withhold payments. The last one, which he carried in his wallet, showed a boy of about four, blond, with a couple teeth missing. Cute little guy.

Now the kid was turning six. At that age, Wade had still had his mother, along with a dad who wore a uniform and carried a badge. Although Wade had sensed undercurrents of tension, he’d trusted his parents to take care of him.

What about Reggie? The kid must have been stunned and overwhelmed when his mom died. Wade was sixteen when he’d lost his own mother in a small-plane crash three years after she and his father divorced. Although she’d moved away and they rarely saw each other, he’d been devastated.

If only he’d known about Vicki’s death, he’d have rushed down here. Well, he’d do his best to compensate for that now.

After a couple wrong turns, he found the cul-de-sac. Picking the right house proved harder than expected. There were several two-story Craftsman structures with wide front porches, none of which matched his memory of fading beige paint and a patchy lawn edged by boxy hedges.

It had to be the one on the left, almost to the end. Wade recognized that row of sash windows on the second floor with a tiny attic window above. The house had been repainted cream with blue trim and the hedges replaced by blooming bird-of-paradise plants interspersed with hibiscus bushes, fronted by a mixture of miniature roses and colorful annual flowers. The doctor took good care of her property.

From the porch roof hung a bunting banner, each one of its green triangles displaying a picture of a teddy bear. A cluster of green and white balloons fluttered from one of the supports.

As he parked, he saw a bouncy little girl and her parents stroll toward the front door. There was something familiar about the mother, who had short stick-straight hair and the low-hipped stride of a cop accustomed to wearing a duty belt. When she glanced toward him, Wade recognized her as Patty Hartman, one of his fellow rookie officers from his stint at the local P.D. She carried a wrapped present.

After making startled eye contact with Wade, Patty waved. He returned the gesture.

Several more children scampered up the walkway with parents in their wake. They, too, brought gifts.

Reggie’s birthday might not be until Tuesday, but the aunt had obviously scheduled his party for today. And Wade wasn’t invited.

Well, he’d just invited himself.

Chapter Two

With Anne Murray singing “Teddy Bears’ Picnic” from a boom box on the patio, Adrienne hurried along the outdoor tables, distributing containers of Play-Doh along with teddy-bear molds.

“I should have done this earlier,” she fretted to Harper Anthony, whose seven-year-old daughter, Mia, was romping with Reggie in the large backyard. “I’m usually better organized.”

“I’d say you’re remarkably well organized.” That was a high compliment coming from Harper’s fiancé, Peter Gladstone, a gifted teacher and sports coach. He indicated the refreshment table with a tray of cut-up vegetables, the teddy bear–themed yo-yos awaiting the guests and the decorated party hats, plates and gift bags. “This is impressive.”

“That’s due as much to my friends as to me,” Adrienne protested. Through the kitchen window, she could hear newlyweds Stacy and Cole Rattigan bustling about fixing sandwiches.

Harper and Stacy had been close friends with Adrienne’s younger sister since junior high. Both nurses, they’d done their best to steer Vicki into treatment for her bipolar disorder and her drinking, and since her death had pitched in to babysit Reggie when his regular sitter wasn’t available. They’d also become Adrienne’s allies and mutual support system.

Harper, who’d volunteered to take pictures today, snapped the two children as they chased a butterfly. “You seem on edge. Is everything okay?”

“I’ve noticed that, too,” said Stacy, bringing a bowl of teddy-bear graham crackers from the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

With guests due to arrive any minute, Adrienne hesitated to spill the news she’d kept to herself all week. But it had to come out sometime. “It’s about the adoption. Reggie’s birth father is contesting it.”

“What?” Harper stared at her in dismay. “That lowlife?”

Stacy smacked the bowl onto the table. “Where does he get the nerve?”

“And if he takes my little boy away, I don’t know what I’ll...” Adrienne broke off.

“He can’t!” Stacy protested.

“Unthinkable,” Harper added. “If you need money for a lawyer, we’ll help.”

“So will we.”

“Thank you.” Adrienne struggled to regain her composure. “I already have an attorney. Unfortunately, he believes Wade has a case.”

“What kind of case?” Harper’s eyes narrowed.

“It turns out Vicki didn’t tell the whole story.” Adrienne explained about the checks and gifts.

“Sending money isn’t the same as being a father.” Stacy’s hand dropped to her abdomen, visibly enlarged with triplets due in four months. “I don’t know how I’d get through this pregnancy without Cole.”

“A real dad does whatever it takes to protect his kids,” Harper said. “Look how far Peter was willing to go to have children.”

A widow with a young daughter, she’d donated eggs so that Peter—himself widowed—could have a child by a surrogate. Unexpectedly, the two had fallen in love and were now due to be parents next June. They’d been overjoyed to learn that the surrogate was carrying twin boys.

Adrienne glanced toward the interior of the house, expecting to hear the bell, which she’d turned on high for today. No one had arrived yet, though, giving her a few more minutes. “I haven’t even told Reggie his father might be here next week.”

“When are you planning to break the news?” asked Peter.

“As soon as Wade actually shows up. He’s driving down from Northern California.” Adrienne wanted Reggie to enjoy his party without stewing about his father.

“Good plan,” Stacy said. “Considering he’s been the invisible man until now.”

Harper folded her arms. “Maybe he’ll conveniently get lost on the way.”

That would be a welcome break, Adrienne thought. “Just as long as he signs that legal waiver.”

The bell jangled. “The happy hordes descend,” Stacy murmured.

Through the window, Cole waved. “I’ll get it.” Wearing a checkered apron and a dab of chocolate icing on his cheek, he didn’t look like a world-famous men’s fertility expert.

“Thanks,” Adrienne called.

She might as well relax and enjoy the party. No sense dwelling on what next week would bring.

* * *

WADE SUPPOSED HE shouldn’t be surprised to find a man playing host at the front door. Yet the lawyer hadn’t mentioned that Adrienne had a husband or fiancé.

Patty’s family had already gone inside, followed by several other groups. The mild-looking fellow kept the door open for Wade, announcing, “Hi. I’m Cole.”

“Wade Hunter.” No sign of recognition crossed the man’s face as they shook hands.

Cole’s forehead wrinkled. “You were, uh, invited, right?”

“Do lots of little boys have stray men crashing their parties with gifts?” Wade wasn’t sure why he felt cranky toward this guy, except that he’d stolen the father’s place today.

“Sorry. It’s just that we haven’t met.” Despite the apologetic tone, Cole remained blocking the entrance.

“You know all Dr. Cavill’s friends?”

“Not exactly,” the man conceded. “My wife probably does. Stacy. She’s a surgical nurse at the hospital. Do you know her?”

Way to act like an idiot, Wade. “Afraid not.” He decided to cut to the point. “I’m Reggie’s father.”

Still looking puzzled, Cole moved aside. “I didn’t realize... Come on in. The party’s in back.”

The scents of chocolate and cinnamon reached Wade the instant he stepped into the foyer. Quite a charming change from his father’s place, as were the bouncy music and cheerful voices drifting from the depths of the house. His mood lifting, he followed Cole.

Glancing into the living and dining rooms that opened off the hall, he saw comfortable, well-maintained furniture, with bouquets of flowers that he guessed came from the yard. Everything appeared tidy and fresh.

With a twist of longing, Wade recalled the house where he’d lived before his mother left. More modest than this one but just as inviting, it had smelled of lemon oil and baking. He’d hurried in after school each day, eager to eat his snack and spill the day’s events to Mom.

Not that last year, though. Once he entered adolescence, Wade recalled with embarrassment, he’d become surly and quick to rush off with his friends. No wonder his mother hadn’t believed he’d needed her any longer.

Now, passing the staircase, he entered the family room. Judging by the view through the bay window, most of the action was on the patio. “I’d better go check on the food,” Cole said. “Nice to meet you.”

“My pleasure.” Wade stayed where he was, not quite ready to plunge into the mix of people outside.

He was alone in the den except for two school-age girls who stood near the window. They seemed to be debating whether to take their stuffed animals outside and risk getting them dirty. Boys would never argue over something like that, Wade thought in amusement.

“Mischief wants to run around,” said the shorter of the pair, a little charmer with elfin features. “He’s restless.”

“He should follow Roar’s example.” Her taller companion, a graceful African-American girl, cradled her lion. “He’d rather watch the others and write about them later.”

“I guess that’s okay.” The first girl clutched her well-worn bear. “Mischief, we can play later, okay?”

The girls set their little pals in the bay window facing the yard and darted out through the kitchen. Following, Wade spotted Cole hovering near the oven.

“I’d forgotten that boys this age still have girls as friends,” Wade remarked.

“Berry and Kimmie are stepsisters,” Cole said, as if answering an unasked question. “Took them a while to warm up to each other, but now they’re best pals.” A timer rang. “Excuse me. That’s the gluten-free cupcakes.”

“Gluten-free cupcakes?”

“Some of the kids and parents have allergies.”

Wade wondered how people kept track of such things. He’d have bought a cake at the store and been done with it.

Moving through the sunny kitchen, he stopped by an open slider window to take in the scene. A handful of adults gathered on the patio while children galloped on the grass and walkways. Among the three or four little boys, he couldn’t tell which was Reggie.

He ought to recognize his own son. Thanks to Vicki, he couldn’t.

Behind them a vegetable garden still flourished in October. Wade identified squash, peppers and a stubborn tomato plant. Nice touch. His mom used to raise herbs and vegetables, too.

Returning his attention to the patio, he noted a gift table. Should have wrapped this thing, he reflected. At least he’d attached a card.

After setting the box on the pile, he tried to pick out Reggie’s aunt among her guests. Definitely the pretty blonde woman with her hair pulled back, although those coveralls didn’t fit his image of a starchy professional. Why was she hiding in such a shapeless garment? It failed to disguise her attractive figure, however, just as the no-frills hairstyle didn’t detract—much—from her lively face, intelligent light green eyes and full mouth.

Wade registered the instant she recognized him. Disbelief flashed across her face, then disapproval, yielding at last to a painful attempt at a smile. Well, if she’d invited him, she wouldn’t have received such a shock.

As she started in his direction, a tall woman with long brown hair followed her gaze, then said something and indicated the children. Adrienne nodded, and her friend—corralling a couple other parents, including Patty—began distributing yo-yos in the yard.

With the others occupied, Adrienne approached Wade, her expression wary. “I wasn’t expecting you today.” Her warm, low voice stated that as a fact, not a challenge.

Wade decided to try a diplomatic approach. As a police officer, he’d learned that a courteous tone often defused potential violence, not that he expected anyone to start throwing punches around here. “You’ve put together a great party. I didn’t mean to crash, but I was in the neighborhood.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“On purpose,” he admitted. “I was impatient to meet my son. Only I didn’t expect all these people.”

Adrienne swallowed. “I thought it would be better for you to meet him next week, just the three of us.”

“I’d prefer just the two of us.” Seeing her chin come up defiantly, he changed the subject. “How’s he taking the news?”

“What news?”

“About me.” That ought to be obvious, he thought.

She averted her gaze. “I haven’t told him yet.”

Anger boiled up, hot and fast. She hadn’t bothered to prepare his son, leaving Wade to break the news himself. “Did you think about his feelings?”

“That’s all I thought about!” She glanced around, but no one stood near enough to overhear her sharp tone.

“Could have fooled me.”

“You might consider my perspective.” Tension bristled in her voice. “What if you didn’t show up? I’ve spent the past year helping my nephew deal with losing his mom. That’s all he needs, to get excited about his daddy and then be left with nothing.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he said tightly.

“You accused me of ignoring Reggie’s feelings,” she responded. “That’s not fair.”

Much as he hated to admit it, she had a point. “Perhaps.”

She folded her arms. “Look, Mr. Hunter...”

“Wade.”

“Wade. Until a few days ago, I believed you were a deadbeat who dumped my sister and abandoned my nephew.” Her commanding expression warned him not to speak until she finished. “I understand now that wasn’t the case. But I love Reggie more than anything. I will make whatever sacrifices are necessary to give him a stable, loving home.”

“So will I.” He meant that, even though he wasn’t sure how to accomplish it. Nevertheless, he grasped quite clearly what lay ahead when Reggie hit adolescence. This aunt might be strong—no doubt a lot stronger than her sister—but that didn’t mean she could rein in a young man with roaring hormones and a family tendency to screw up. “He needs a dad. I wish I’d been involved all along, but I’m here now.”

Her shoulders tightened. “We can’t resolve this today.”

“Agreed. Well?”

“Well, what?”

“I’d like to meet him,” he said with strained patience.

Adrienne’s lips formed a thin line before she answered. “Let’s wait for the right moment, okay?” she asked. “So we can do this discreetly, without disrupting the party.”

Since he disliked creating a scene, Wade had no problem agreeing. “That suits me.” In the yard, the children had spread out to experiment with their yo-yos. “Which one is he?”

Adrienne looked astonished at the question and then responded wryly, “The dirt magnet.”

Wade laughed. No question, that was the blond boy vying with a couple girls to spin his yo-yo the farthest. The knees of his jeans were smeared with something brown and crusted, while a large leaf stuck to his hair.

One of the parents in the yard plucked off the leaf and said something about it. Reggie’s mouth formed the word “Yeah?” and he took the leaf, examining its shape.

“That’s Peter Gladstone, my friend Harper’s fiancé,” Adrienne said. “He was Reggie’s coach at sports camp last summer. He teaches biology and physical education.”

“I went to sports camp when I was a kid.” The implication that other men had filled the role of father figure troubled Wade. Still, that was better than no father figures at all. “I suppose it’s good for Reggie to have his coach as a friend.”

“It is.” Adrienne edged away. “I should be out there running the party.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

“They’re going overboard with the yo-yos.” She waved at a boy swinging his wildly. “Hey! Cut it out!”

Peter moved in and calmed the child. Otherwise, Wade would have been tempted to intervene and possibly assign a dozen push-ups to take the edge off the kid’s exuberance.

“It’s time for the teddy-bear modeling session.” Facing the youngsters, Adrienne cupped her hands over her mouth. “Play-Doh, everybody!”

As the parents shepherded the children toward the tables, Patty spotted Wade. “Hey, Reggie!” she announced in a voice loud enough to halt a fleeing perp a block away. “Look, your dad’s here!”

Beside Wade, Adrienne stiffened. So much for waiting for the right moment, he thought, and prepared to meet the son he’d missed for all these years.

* * *

A BEAM OF sunlight lit Reggie’s face as the little guy registered what Patty had said. Adrienne’s chest squeezed. How would he react? Even if things went well today, she dreaded to think how devastated he’d be if, eventually, Wade let him down.

The man had a muscular, self-contained presence that under other circumstances she’d have found attractive. Not today. He’d come where he wasn’t invited and had the nerve to criticize her. Had he waited until Reggie’s actual birthday, she’d have laid the groundwork.

Well, there was no going back after Patty’s blunt declaration. Her friend—who’d married hospital embryologist Alec Denny and become stepmother to seven-year-old Fiona—had a kind heart but rough edges.

Reggie trotted toward them and then stopped in confusion. He blinked at Wade as if the man had stepped out of a TV set. “Is he really my dad?” he asked Adrienne.

“Yes.” How was she going to handle this? Wade’s untimely arrival had forced her hand. “It’s...a birthday surprise.” Boy, does that sound lame.

“Hi, Reggie,” the man said. “Happy birthday.”

“Uh, hi.” The little boy reached out and patted his father’s arm gingerly, as if Wade were a crouching lion, both fascinating and scary.

“Hugs!” Patty called, cheering them on. It occurred to Adrienne that since she hadn’t told her friend about Wade in advance, Patty must have known him in her former job at the police department.

A smile illuminated Wade’s rugged face. Bending down, he closed his arms around his son. After a moment’s uncertainty, Reggie’s arms encircled his neck. On the sidelines, Harper snapped a picture of the tableau.

“How about going inside so we can talk in private?” Wade said.

Reggie looked up uncertainly. “Is that okay, Aunt Addie?”

Refusing might bring on an awkward dispute. “Just for a minute. I’ll make sure you don’t miss anything important out here.”

With a deep breath, the boy she loved with every fiber of her being took the big man’s hand and went indoors with him. Reg was so small, so powerless. Don’t let him become a pawn in this guy’s ego trip.

While Peter steered everyone’s attention to a game, Harper joined Adrienne on the patio. “Is he being a complete jerk?”

She wasn’t sure how to respond. The man was tearing her world apart, and she hated him for it. But she’d seen his tenderness and the glint of moisture in his gray eyes as he’d embraced his son.

“Not a complete jerk,” she responded at last.

“Let us know what we can do,” Harper said loyally.

“I will.” Adrienne thanked heaven for her friends.

* * *

SITTING ON A couch in the den to be near Reggie’s height, Wade searched for the right way to begin. He settled on, “Did your aunt tell you anything about me?”

The little guy shook his head.

Waded wished they could skip this difficult conversation and cut to the fun part, where he taught his son to surf or play Frisbee or trounce an opponent at Ping-Pong. The guy stuff, instead of all these emotions.

It struck him, though, that this conversation might stand out forever in his son’s memory—the key moment when Reggie found out the truth about his dad. Turning points like this stayed with a person. One holiday when Wade served charity meals to the homeless, he’d sat down later with an eighty-year-old man who’d reminisced about the day his father came home from the war, describing with heartfelt clarity the details of an event seventy years in the past.

Let’s start with the important part. “I love you,” Wade said. “I’ve always loved you.”

“Mom told me you didn’t care.” The boy’s tongue traced a gap in his teeth where a new one was growing. “That you left us.”

“She forced me to leave.” Much as he disliked maligning the dead, Vicki didn’t deserve to get off easy.

Reggie considered this. “How?”

“Your mom had security guards throw me out of the hospital. She told them I was violent, but I never did anything like that.” Wade’s anger rose at the memory. “She lied about me and tried—well, threatened—to have me arrested. I’m a police officer. I’d have been fired from the police department.”

Reggie folded his hands in front of him. “Mom acted kind of crazy sometimes.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Wade said. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you. I should have been.”

“Aunt Addie keeps me safe.”

A spurt of gratitude replaced his annoyance at the doctor, temporarily anyway. “I’m glad she’s taken care of you. Now I’m here to do that.”

“Why?” Reggie asked.

“Because I love you.”

“I mean, why’d you come back now?”

A reasonable question. “I just found out your mother died. I’ve been living up in Northern California.” Wade brushed his palm across his son’s cheek. “I drove to Safe Harbor as soon as I could.”

“How long will you stay?”

Suggesting that he might remove the boy from his home would be a bad idea, Wade surmised. “Forever, if I can find a job.” Silence descended. After waiting a bit, he said, “Any more questions?”

“No.” Although the boy would probably think of plenty later—this was a heavy conversation for a young kid, Wade acknowledged. Reggie glanced past him out the window. “Did you bring that police-station set?”

Swiveling, Wade saw his gift sitting atop the others. “Sure did.”

“Can we play with it?”

He’s a normal kid. Toys first. Wade chuckled. “I’d like that. But everybody else brought presents, too. It might hurt their feelings if you play with mine and not theirs.”

“All right.” Reggie wiggled impatiently. Standing in one place for more than a few seconds was obviously a foreign concept at this stage of his development. “Can I go outside?”

“You bet.”

The boy stepped forward and then halted. “What should I call you?”

Longing seized Wade. Go for what you want. “Daddy sounds good to me.”

The child appeared to be weighing the matter seriously. “Now that I’m six, I’d rather call you Dad.”

“Done.” Wade held up his hand. To his satisfaction, his little boy ran over and fist-bumped him before scooting out.

That had gone well, or so Wade assumed. If only he knew more about kids and their thought processes.

Well, I’ll learn.

* * *

REG TROTTED OUT, eager to join his friends. Adrienne couldn’t tell much from his expression. Through the window, he’d appeared to do more listening than usual, while his father appeared to have treated the boy with respect.

She still wished the man would leave them alone.

Wade rejoined her on the patio. “He says you took care of him when his mom...didn’t. Thank you for that.”

“He seems in good spirits.” A bit grudgingly, Adrienne added, “Thank you for handling that tactfully.”

“Did that hurt?”

“Did what hurt?”

“Thanking me.” His playful tone took the edge off his words. At close range, she noted that his eyes were silver-gray, like Reggie’s. Adrienne had never seen anyone else with that exact shade.

“Yes,” she answered honestly. No matter how civil this man was, nothing changed the fact that he might try to take her child away. “We’re meeting tomorrow at the lawyer’s, right?”

Wade’s head tilted in accord. “I’m surprised a doctor like you is free on a weekday.”

“I work an overnight shift in Labor and Delivery, plus some evening office hours.”

His forehead furrowed. “Who stays with Reggie?”

“He has a regular sitter—she’s licensed.” Adrienne resented being interrogated. Still, she supposed the question was warranted. “He sleeps at her house with her family. Occasionally on weekends, if she has other commitments, he stays with Harper or Stacy.”

“That can’t be easy for him.” Wade shifted position, showing signs of restlessness. Just like his son.

“I sleep while he’s in school, and I’m usually here when he gets home.” Enough about that. I don’t have to defend myself. “You’re a police officer. Surely you’ve worked overnights.”

“Well, yes.”

“Then you should understand that we adapt as best we can. Especially parents.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m sure I’ll find out.”

The implication chilled her. “He lives here. With me.”

“For now,” Wade said coolly. “Well, I think I’ll take off. Don’t want to interrupt the party any more than necessary.” He went over to Reggie, who was eagerly pressing his mold over a mound of soft Play-Doh, and rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, kid, I’m leaving, but I’ll see you Tuesday on your actual birthday.”

“And we’ll play with the police set?” The little boy gazed up at him. “Shoot some bad guys?”

“Shoot some pretend bad guys.” Wade’s grin transformed him into the young, open-faced man he’d been when Adrienne had met him all those years ago, she recalled abruptly. If she wasn’t careful, she might start to like him.

Her earlier image of him as a crouching lion came to mind. No matter how appealing he seemed, there was no telling if or when he might pounce.

Chapter Three

For Wade, social events, unless they involved watching football games, quickly wore thin. The aversion dated from his childhood, when family gatherings had usually degenerated into arguments involving either Mom vs. Dad or Daryl vs. Grandpa Bruce.

This one seemed pleasant, though. Wade was glad he’d had a chance to meet, or at least observe, some of the other parents. They obviously played a major role in Reggie’s life.

When he’d speculated about seeking employment out of town and taking Reggie with him, he hadn’t considered the other people in his son’s life. Moreover, everything about Reggie, from his healthy appearance to his trusting nature, showed Adrienne’s loving care. Wade had to admit that the aunt was doing a fine job. Still, if it came to a choice between claiming his son and losing him again, Wade knew which choice he’d make.

He cut through the kitchen. “Leaving already?” Peter, the teacher and coach, was arranging candles on a bear-shaped chocolate cake while a couple other people worked at the counter. “I don’t blame you. If you aren’t used to being around kids, the noise level can be grating.”

“Yeah, it’s new to me.” Wade searched for a polite question and hit on “Which one’s yours?”

“Mia, the little girl with short brown hair and a snub nose, is about to become my stepdaughter,” the man said. “Harper and I are getting married the day after Thanksgiving. Adrienne’s been kind enough to let us have the ceremony here.”

“Generous of her.” Seemed like a lot of work, but women enjoyed planning weddings. And birthday parties, and Christmas celebrations, Wade thought wistfully, remembering his mother. Once again his heart went out to his son. Vicki might have been—had been—a messed-up individual, but she’d still been Reg’s mom.

After a polite farewell, Wade turned to go. Patty popped into his path holding a tray of sandwiches. “Hungry?” she asked. “There’s peanut butter, tuna fish and grilled cheese with tomatoes. It tastes good even though it’s healthy.”

His stomach growled as his hand hovered over the tray.

“Take one of each. They’re small.” She shook back her fine, straight hair. “Hey, so I guess there’s a story about why you left town. I never bought that stuff about wanting a change of scenery.”

“Yes. A long story.” He bit into the first sandwich. The cheese nearly melted in his mouth.

Patty set the tray down nearby. “While you’re eating, here’s my pitch. We could use another hand at the agency and you’d fit right in. Mike Aaron bought it, you know.”

Wade had no idea what she was talking about, although he did recall Mike Aaron as a detective at the P.D. “Which agency?”

“Fact Hunter.” Patty regarded him curiously. “You knew your grandfather sold it, right?”

“I had no idea.” Wade hadn’t spoken with his grandfather since their bitter quarrel several years ago. Although Bruce Hunter had been furious that Wade had refused to quit his job in Pine Tree and join the investigations agency, the old man hadn’t mentioned selling it.

Maybe he’d been irate because he’d hoped his grandson’s joining him would allow him to keep it afloat. No doubt Bruce had had too much pride to admit he couldn’t keep running the place by himself in his seventies. Well, he should have said so. Might not have changed anything, but Wade, who’d resented what he’d seen as an attempt to control him, might have responded more gently.

“You and your grandpa don’t talk much, eh?” Patty said. “Well, Mike bought the agency a couple years ago with his brother, Lock.”

“Lock? Don’t think I’ve met him.” Despite Wade’s urge to leave, those sandwiches were tasty. Judging by the number of trays still on the counter, there were plenty for this crowd.

“Short for Sherlock, which is perfect for a detective, huh? He was a sheriff’s deputy in Arizona,” she explained. “Yeah, well, then I came on board when I got married. Being a stepmom’s important, and I’d had it with those night shifts—you understand.”

Mouth full, Wade nodded.

“Mike’s brought in some new clients and we’re stretched thin,” she went on. “Fraudulent insurance claims, attorneys needing evidence, companies doing background checks on new hires. Dull stuff, but it pays the bills. You could work on your P.I. license under his supervision.”

“Just got it,” Wade said.

“Perfect!” Scrounging in her pocket, Patty withdrew a business card. “There’s the office number. I’ll tell Mike to expect your call.”

“Pushy little thing, aren’t you?” he teased, although she was only a few inches shorter than him.

“Always.”

Wade took the card. Fact Hunter Investigations. Who’d have imagined he’d ever consider working there? “Maybe I will.”

“Good seeing you.” She reclaimed the tray. “Reggie’s a cute little dude.”

“I think so, too.”

As he ducked out, it occurred to Wade that his father hadn’t bothered to mention the sale of the agency. Surely he’d heard about it, if only afterward.

It would be a stroke of luck finding a position in Safe Harbor. Being a father was a complicated business, Wade could see. Living near Reg’s friends and aunt would mean not having to tear his son away from familiar surroundings. They’d be able to get acquainted gradually, building a relationship step-by-step.

Things looked promising. A little too promising. In Wade’s experience, the minute you got comfortable, matters exploded in your face.

All the same, he might give Mike Aaron a call.

* * *

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE a clue he was coming?” Harper asked as she and Adrienne tossed out the last dropped teddy-bear grahams and torn pieces of party hat.

The other parents had helped clean up, too, so there wasn’t much left to do. With Stacy tiring easily due to her pregnancy, Adrienne had sent her and Cole home.

Mia and Reggie had carted his gifts to his room. The pair, who acted more like brother and sister than friends, was playing happily with all those new toys, judging by the squeals and giggles drifting from the upstairs window.

“We’re meeting with the attorney tomorrow to set some ground rules.” Since Adrienne didn’t care to discuss Wade further, even with a close friend, she changed the subject. “You’re sure you want to plan the wedding outdoors? The weather can be tricky in late November.” While Southern California enjoyed mild winters, that didn’t preclude rain.

Concerned about the cost of a wedding, Harper and Peter had discussed asking his parents, who lived inland, to hold it at their house. But their place was fairly small, so Adrienne had offered up hers. She enjoyed seeing her home full of friends.

“I prefer a garden setting, and if we keep everything outside, there’s less cleanup.” Since it was the second wedding for both bride and groom, they were taking an informal approach. The guest list was short, and the only members of the wedding party would be Peter’s father as best man and Mia as flower girl. Instead of a white gown, Harper had selected a knee-length dress in autumnal shades: golden-yellow, tawny-brown and red-orange.

“Of course, we can move inside if necessary,” Adrienne mused.

“You’re incredibly thoughtful.” Harper dropped a lump of hardening Play-Doh into the trash bag. “Some people prefer to reserve Black Friday for their Christmas shopping.” They’d scheduled the wedding for the day after the holiday.

“I’d rather be with friends.” Prowling across the grass, Adrienne retrieved a crumpled teddy-bear birth certificate. The kids had filled them out for their stuffed animals.

“You do have plans for Thanksgiving dinner, right?” Harper asked. “We’re going to eat with Peter’s parents. You’d both be welcome, I’m sure.”

“I’m on duty that night. But yes, we have plans.” Those involved treating her nephew to supper at a favorite restaurant, after which he’d join his sitter and her family. While it was painful being away from him, someone had to deliver the babies. Also, the trade-off was that Adrienne didn’t have to work Christmas Eve or Christmas night.

“If you’re sure...” Harper stopped as childish voices drifted from an upstairs window.

“Don’t open that!” Reggie shouted.

“I want to play with it,” Mia answered stubbornly.

“No way! My dad gave me that.”

His dad. The boy had already accepted Wade in that role. It hurt, even though Adrienne knew that fathers were important. Reg used to cling to Mia’s father, Sean. His death in an off-road vehicle accident had been hard on them all. Recently, Peter and Cole had grown close to Reggie, but they were both still busy adjusting to their new families and had limited time.

So many losses. Maybe she ought to be grateful that Wade seemed eager to step in, but she didn’t trust him.

“I let you play with stuff my dad gives me,” Mia responded. Although the little girl treasured the memory of her late father, she’d begun referring to Peter as her dad.

“Put it down!” Reggie sounded on the verge of a meltdown.

“Okay, okay.”

“Overtired,” Adrienne assessed. “Let’s call it a day.”

“Good idea.” Harper waved to Peter, who’d just emerged from stowing tables and chairs in a storage room that opened directly to the yard. “Let’s go scrape Mia off the carpet.”

Soon they were gone. In the kitchen, Adrienne paused to center herself. The refrigerator hummed as if happy to be stuffed with leftovers. On a rack above the old stove, light gleamed off the copper pots and pans that she rarely used. But they’d been there as long as Adrienne could remember, and she treasured them.

With a jolt, the attorney’s statement came back to her. Wade could lay claim to Reggie’s half of this house if he chose to, and its contents, as well. Adrienne wasn’t even close to paying off her medical school debts. There was no way she could buy him out.

He hasn’t asked for anything yet. She’d have to be on her guard, though. All the more because of Wade’s undeniably appealing masculinity, which had—much as she disliked admitting it—stirred a tantalizing physical awareness.

Good job being attracted to the wrong guy, Adrienne. Again.

After a disastrous engagement during her residency, she’d sworn off men for a while. Then, during her mother’s final illness nearly four years ago, she’d moved in to this house to help Vicki and Reggie. Between her work schedule and their needs, Adrienne lacked the emotional energy to pursue a relationship. Not that she’d been tempted by anyone.

And she wasn’t tempted now, not on any serious level. Especially since she had no idea what would happen when they met with the attorney tomorrow. Once Wade had a chance to reflect about this house and its obvious value, would he remain civil or would he show a different, greedy side?

She hoped he wasn’t that kind of person, for her nephew’s sake as well as hers. Like it or not, Reggie’s father was going to loom large in his son’s emotional landscape.

Rapid footsteps—Reggie rarely moved at any speed slower than high gear—prepared her for his arrival in the kitchen. Instead of his favorite stuffed animal or the tablet computer he used for educational games and homework, he carried the police station still wrapped in plastic.

“You want to build that in the family room?” she asked.

He clutched it tighter. “I’m saving it till my dad can play with me. On my birthday!”

Again, the word dad shook her, a reminder of what Wade’s arrival meant: that nothing would ever be the same, that they’d have to work out an arrangement. As for the possibility of losing Reg entirely, Adrienne refused to dwell on that. Because she’d fight this man with everything she had, if it came to that.

“Okay.” She hadn’t planned any particular activities for Tuesday beyond a special early dinner. Her office hours started at 6:00 p.m. on Tuesdays, so even on Reggie’s birthday, she had to drop him at the sitter’s by 5:30 p.m.

Wade might not be thrilled about sandwiching his visit between Reggie’s return from school and Adrienne’s departure, but... What was it he’d said? I’d prefer just the two of us.

Despite the urge to maintain tight control, she recognized that doing so might antagonize the man. Maybe she should allow an unsupervised visit. Surely Wade could be trusted to deliver his son to Mary Beth Ellroy’s house at a reasonable hour.

Reggie broke into her reflections. “What’s for dinner, Aunt Addie?”

“Aren’t you stuffed?” She hadn’t kept track of what he’d eaten earlier, though. In his excitement, he might have left most of the food on his plate.

“I’m hungry.”

Time to turn back into Mommy, Adrienne thought as she opened the refrigerator. “Lots of sandwiches and veggies, and cake and ice cream for dessert.”

“Yay!” Her nephew pulled his step stool from under the sink and stood on it to retrieve his favorite plate and cup from a cabinet. Slightly chipped, they belonged to a beloved set that had been in the family for generations.

Sooner or later everything would belong to Reggie. Unable to have children of her own, Adrienne had taken for granted that he would grow up here, secure in her love and his inheritance.

A pang twisted through her. I won’t lose him. I can’t.

She ducked her head, refusing to let Reg see her distress. Tomorrow she and Reg’s father were meeting with the attorney.

She just hoped Wade Hunter didn’t intend to spring any unpleasant surprises.

* * *

AFTER THE AIRINESS of the Cavill house, Daryl’s apartment felt cramped and dark. Wade didn’t mind the worn furniture and nearly bare shelves, which he dusted before putting away the food he’d bought, yet he couldn’t help contrasting the place to Adrienne’s comfortable home.

When he’d imagined bringing his son to live with him, he’d had a vague idea about them settling into a buddy-type relationship, the way he and Daryl had during his teen years, after Mom had left. The reality of a six-year-old boy was another matter entirely.

“Sorry about the food situation,” remarked his father. “Working two jobs, I don’t have time to cook.” The oil stains on Daryl’s hands testified to the weekdays he put in as a mechanic at Phil’s Garage, in addition to his duties as apartment manager.

“You eat mostly fast food?” That might explain his father’s thick waistline and sallow complexion.

“While you fix three-course meals?”

“I try out a recipe now and then.” Wade also stocked salad fixings. Still, he was hardly a model of healthy nutrition, he conceded as he arranged boxes of cereal and pasta along with canned food.

“Those for your kid?”

“I wasn’t planning to...” He stopped. Bringing Reggie here struck him as a bad idea, or at least an awkward one, yet the boy should meet his grandfather. “Listen, his birthday’s Tuesday. You interested in getting together?”

Conflicting emotions played across the deep-etched lines of Daryl’s face. “That’s a lot for the kid to take in, considering he’s only just met his father.”

“So?” Wade wasn’t sure why he pressed the issue, since he didn’t relish introducing his father to Adrienne at this touchy stage of their negotiations. But Reggie was part of two families. He’d been kept away from this side of his heritage too long.

“That woman drove you out of town.” Daryl’s lip curled.

“Vicki?” Wade said. “She’s dead.”

“Yeah, well, I lost my grandson and in a lot of ways my son. Now suddenly I’m supposed to turn into warm, cuddly Grandpa. I’m not sure I have it in me.”

Wade couldn’t argue. While he used to wish he and his father were closer, Daryl kept his emotional barriers raised. “You didn’t act like it was a big deal when I left.”

“I’m not saying it was a big deal.” His father opened the fridge and reached for a beer. His fingers curled, and he chose an orange soda instead.

“Okay. We won’t rush it with Reggie.”

“How about the old man?” That was Daryl’s way of referring to Grandpa Bruce. “I’m sure he’d love having a great-grandson. You never told him about the boy, did you?”

“No. You didn’t, either?”

“I figured it was your call.”

“He had a low enough opinion of me without adding unwed father to the list.” Although Wade and his grandfather had still been on speaking terms when Wade left Safe Harbor, their relationship had always been tinged with criticism and blame.

Despite above-average grades, Wade hadn’t been a good enough student to please Grandpa. The truth was, he’d been distracted by the turmoil at home. There’d been his parents’ divorce, his mother’s death and Daryl’s moody nature. Also, some late-night calls to pick up his father when Daryl was too inebriated to get behind the wheel.

When Bruce heard about one such rescue, he’d accused his grandson of enabling Daryl’s drinking. While that might have been true, a son owed his dad loyalty. Plus, by preventing Daryl from driving under the influence, Wade had kept his only remaining parent out of jail. So when Vicki’s pregnancy had come to light, Wade had assumed Grandpa would see that as yet another example of his weak character.

Thinking about his grandfather reminded him of Patty’s news. “How come you never mentioned that Grandpa sold Fact Hunter?”

Moving to the living room, Daryl sank onto the couch. “You guys were on the outs, so why bother?”

Wade followed him in. “Now that I’m here, he’s sure to find out about my son. I should tell him before he hears it somewhere else.”

“It’s up to you.”

“How’s his health?” In his mid-seventies, Bruce Hunter suffered from a bad cough due to years of smoking.

“Good enough for him to have a girlfriend.” Daryl’s finger tapped the TV remote. “He brings his car into the garage, and she picked him up once.”

“What’s she like?”

“Female.” He clicked on the TV and switched channels to watch a football game.

That ended that discussion. Wade went to fetch the laundry. The conversation had reminded him of how far he’d strayed from his family. Now that he was becoming a father in every sense of the word, it was time to mend fences.

Whether his grandfather was willing to bury the hatchet, however, remained to be seen.

Chapter Four

From the parking lot, Fact Hunter Investigations looked much as Wade remembered it, with a few modest upgrades. In the windows of the second-floor office, almond-colored blinds had replaced his grandfather’s gold curtains, while on the street-level door, the firm’s name had been stenciled in a more modern font. The entrance, which led directly to a staircase, was wedged between two other establishments: the Sexy Over Sixty Gym and, where an escrow office used to be, an electronics repair shop.

He recalled that the stairs were steep, with a freight elevator available for the handicapped. However, Grandpa used to say that most clients preferred to conduct business by phone and the internet or to have a detective pay an office or home visit.

Once, the prospect of entering that building as an employee had loomed like a prison sentence. He associated P.I. agencies with retired or partially disabled officers, not young men eager for the challenges of police work. Plus, the idea of being under his grandfather’s thumb would have been enough to send Wade fleeing even had he not already held the position in Pine Tree.

Now Bruce’s ownership was gone, and so was the job up north. Wade had emailed his résumé to Mike Aaron last night and to his surprise had received an immediate response inviting him to drop by for an interview. “Just phone first,” the new co-owner had written.

Wade’s hand went to his pocket, cupping the bulge of his mobile. And missing the weight of his service weapon.

He wasn’t ready to place the call. Instead, he put the car in gear and drove out of the lot, heading south toward the ocean.

Bruce Hunter’s condominium complex occupied bluffs above the harbor. Emerging from his sports coupe, Wade drew in a deep breath of salt air and tilted his face to the autumn sunlight. Seagulls mewed overhead, while below the bluffs traffic hummed along a highway. Less than a quarter mile farther south, boats bobbed at anchor in neat rows extending from a curving wharf. A few sails dotted the waters of the harbor.

He’d missed living near the ocean. While Pine Tree’s mountainous locale had provided a beautiful setting for hiking and exploring, this was Wade’s native habitat. All the same, he was far from certain of his welcome.

Dropping in unannounced might be tempting fate or, more likely, his grandfather’s temper. Wade might even catch the old man in an embarrassing position with this new girlfriend. Wouldn’t that be interesting?

Someone had propped open the gate. Amused to find Grandpa Bruce occupying a complex with such lax security, Wade followed a walkway to the old man’s two-story unit and pressed the bell.

No response. He tried again and still heard nothing stirring. Where would his grandfather be at 10:00 a.m. on a Monday? Wade couldn’t picture Grandpa hanging around a seniors’ center.

From behind a screen of bushes, the thump of rubber-soled shoes reached his ears. Bruce Hunter came into view, sweat darkening his California Angels T-shirt and athletic shorts hanging loose on the old man’s bony frame. Gray hair laced with black clung to his scalp.

He slowed his pace, studying Wade coolly. “Figured you’d drop by sooner or later.” His voice had a dry rasp.

“Daryl told you I was here?”

His grandfather took out his key. “Nope. This is a small town.”

Wade stepped aside, disappointed at losing the element of surprise. As usual, Bruce had the upper hand.

The door opened into a living room almost military in its neatness. The brown couch and tan carpet were freshly vacuumed, while the carved wooden cabinets and chest were buffed to a sheen. They had belonged to Wade’s grandmother, who’d brought them from Germany when she married.

Karlotta Hunter had been buried before he was born, so he knew little of her except that she’d met Bruce while he was stationed in her country and had died when their son was in college. The official story was that she’d awakened late at night, tripped on the staircase, fallen and hit her head. The unofficial story, from Daryl, was that due to her unhappy marriage, she’d taken to drink, which had contributed to the accident.

Alcoholism ran deep in this family. It had skipped Bruce, although he had his own compulsion: chain-smoking. Apparently he’d quit, though, since the place no longer reeked of tobacco.

Wade settled on a polite greeting. “You look well.”

“I look dirty and smell worse.” His grandfather started up the steps. “Help yourself to coffee. There’s no beer.”

At 10:00 a.m.? The old man was assuming the worst, but Wade didn’t bother to correct him. “Thanks.”

He took his coffee black in a souvenir mug from Catalina Island. From a day trip with the girlfriend, perhaps? Over the buffet in the dining room, Wade studied the array of framed photos, hoping for a glimpse of the new lady, but these were all familiar faces.

Grandma Karlotta had sad eyes and old-fashioned braids wrapped around her head. A young black-haired Bruce stood stiffly erect in his blue dress marine uniform. Daryl at about the same age sported a combat utility uniform, better known as camouflage. At his college graduation, Wade posed in mortarboard and gown. There was no picture of Wade’s mother.

Upstairs the shower ran for about a minute, followed by a brief fit of coughing. It ended quickly and sounded less alarming than in the old days.

Bruce descended within minutes, his pants and shirt pressed, his hair slick. “Guess you’ve got some news for me,” he said without preamble.

How much had he heard via the grapevine? “About my son?” Wade asked.

The old man’s nostrils flared. “The one you abandoned.”

How typical of him to state that as fact rather than a question. “No, I didn’t. His mother threatened to file false abuse charges. She was...troubled.” Wade saw no reason to go into detail. “I’ve been paying child support.”

Bruce’s scowl eased. “Glad to hear you aren’t a deadbeat.”

And I’d have appreciated your not assuming the worst. Wade hadn’t come here to fight, however. “I figured you might like to meet your great-grandson once I get visitation squared away with his aunt.”

“His aunt?” From the refrigerator, Bruce took out a glass bottle of orange juice. “You’re his father. Don’t be a weakling. Take your son and tell her to get lost.”

Wade hung on to his temper. “I’ll handle this my way.”

“Suit yourself.” Bruce poured juice into a glass. “Yeah, I’d like to meet the little guy, whenever this aunt snaps her fingers and gives you permission.”

“I’m here to make peace, but that isn’t going to happen if you keep insulting me.” Wade poured the remaining half of his coffee in the sink. It was decaf anyway.

Avoiding his gaze, his grandfather peered at a framed California Angels team photo on the wall. It bore half a dozen signatures from the players. “You tossed off a few insults of your own the last time we met.”

Had he? “Such as?”

“Called me a rent-a-cop, for one thing,” Bruce snarled.

“Sorry about that.” Wade had lashed out in the heat of the moment.

“Your apology is too late.” Resentment that must have been festering all this time blazed from his grandfather’s face. “I had to sell the agency I spent years building because my son’s a drunk and my grandson holds me in contempt.”

Behind the anger, Wade sensed the hurt. “I don’t hold you in contempt. And you never told me the future of the agency was on the line.”

“I shouldn’t have had to.”

“I’m not a mind reader,” Wade said. “Now I’d like to let bygones be bygones.”

“Why? Because you need a job?” Bruce fired back. “Guess you’re not too proud to be a rent-a-cop now.”

“Guess I’m not.”

That stopped his grandfather. “You’re applying there?”

“Already have,” Wade said.

They faced each other across the kitchen. If he’d thought it would do any good, Wade would have repeated that he hoped they could reconcile, but he should have known better. He’d tried to smooth things over before and it hadn’t worked then, either.

After their argument he’d sent his grandfather Christmas cards despite receiving none in return. Then last December his card had come back with Bruce’s address crossed out and the handwritten notation “Don’t know him and don’t want to.”

Some people liked to hold a grudge. Don’t be one of them, Wade told himself, and took the plunge. “I was thinking that you, me and Reggie could see a baseball game sometime.”

“Maybe.” If Bruce longed to meet the boy—which he probably did—he disguised it well. “Do me a favor, will you?”

“What’s that?”

“Since you wouldn’t stoop to work at the agency when I owned it, don’t insult me by doing it now just because you got fired.”

“Laid off,” Wade corrected.

“Whatever, as you young people like to say.”

“I’ll take it under consideration.” If he stayed here any longer, Wade might lose his temper the way he had during their last meeting. “See you around, Grandpa. Thanks for the coffee.”

“See you.” Bruce walked him to the front. From the corner of his eye, Wade saw his grandfather watching as he rounded the side of the building.

At Fact Hunter Investigations, Wade reflected, he had an excellent shot at a suitable position that would allow him to stay near Reggie. Despite the old man’s request, it seemed unlikely that passing it up would do any good. More likely, his grandpa would see compliance as a weakness.

You couldn’t please him, so why try? On his cell phone, Wade pressed Mike Aaron’s number.

* * *

SEATED IN THE attorney’s waiting room, Adrienne glanced irritably at her watch. Wade was ten minutes late, and she had to be home in an hour to meet Reggie’s school bus.

Doubts and speculation were driving her crazy. In her medical practice, she was accustomed to dealing with uncertainty. Patient outcomes couldn’t always be predicted, and in surgery she had to change tactics instantly if complications developed.

Yet she’d lain awake last night, struggling with the unknowns about Reggie’s father. Would he break his son’s heart by playing the doting daddy until he got bored? Or would he demand full custody, ignoring Reggie’s attachment to Adrienne? In either case, what about Reggie’s rights to the house and its contents?

The man was no knuckle-dragging Neanderthal, Adrienne conceded. But she’d grown up with a bipolar father whose mood swings had kept the household teetering on the brink between his warm, expansive side and his abrupt withdrawals. Her sister had been equally unpredictable. There was no telling how many sides Wade Hunter had or which would emerge today.

Then she saw him through the blinds, cutting across the parking lot. He was carrying... Were those flowers?

She barely had time to rise and smooth her powder-blue dress before he blew into the room on a crisp breeze. Wearing a dark suit, with a trace of early gray at the temples, he had a distinguished air offset by the apologetic gleam in his eyes.

He regarded her appreciatively. “I like your hair down. That’s a good color on you, too.”

Adrienne rarely wore dresses and usually put her hair in a twist or ponytail. Nervous about this meeting, she’d taken extra care today. “Thanks. Listen...”

“I didn’t mean to be late.” Wade held out a decorative pot containing a yellow miniature rose. With shiny green leaves and copious buds, it would fit perfectly into her front bed. “Just landed a job, and on my way from the interview, I passed a flower shop. It occurred to me that a peace offering might be appropriate.”

“I love miniature roses. Thank you.” A peace offering—better than hostility, in Adrienne’s opinion. Then the rest of his statement registered. “You’re going to work at the police department?”

“Private agency. Fact Hunter.”

“Congratulations.” Clearly, Wade didn’t plan to leave town soon. That might be good...or not. It meant less of a likelihood that her little boy would be carted away to some distant place, yet having his father living nearby was far from ideal.

The inner door opened. Geoff Humphreys emerged, greeting Adrienne before turning to the new arrival. “Mr. Hunter? Pleased to meet you in person.”

“Me, too.”

After shaking hands, they went into the comfortably appointed office. “Did I hear you say you found a job at Fact Hunter?” the attorney asked.

“Founded by my grandfather, although if there’s an opposite to nepotism, that’s what I have.” In an upholstered chair, Wade sat straight with legs slightly apart, as if accustomed to a heavy equipment belt. Adrienne had seen Patty sit the same way.

“Mike Aaron owns it now, doesn’t he?” Geoff didn’t explain how he knew that.

Wade tilted his head in acknowledgment. “That’s right.”

“Mike’s wife is a colleague of mine,” Adrienne put in. “Dr. Paige Brennan.”

Wade blinked. “A cop and a doctor? That’s an unusual combination.”

“It’s not uncommon around here. Patty’s married to an embryologist, Alec Denny, although he’s a Ph.D., not an M.D.” In case that sounded snobbish, she added, “As Alec keeps reminding everyone.”

“What about this brother of Mike Aaron’s?” Wade said. “Ever meet him? I like to know who I’m working for.”

“Lock’s a good guy,” Adrienne told him. “He married a surgical nurse, Erica. They have a little boy—almost a year old.”

“Does this town put something in the water?” he asked. “Seems like everybody’s getting married and having kids.”

“We’re a friendly bunch.” Despite her attempt at a light tone, Adrienne felt an all-too-familiar tensing in the gut at the reminder that she would never be so lucky. She was grateful when Geoff cleared his throat, drawing their attention to the topic at hand.

“While I realize you’re just getting acquainted, we should discuss a parenting plan,” he said. “That describes how parents will handle a variety of practical matters in their child’s life. It prevents misunderstandings and minimizes conflict.”

“We could all use more of that,” Wade muttered as Geoff handed out printed sheets. “Minimizing conflict, I mean.”

Adrienne scanned the list. Although she appreciated order, she found it daunting. It called for plans regarding visitation, both regular and for vacations and holidays, instructions as to dietary requirements and internet use, details of how to handle contact with extended family members and parents’ dating partners, and numerous other issues. “Is this really necessary?”

“It will be eventually,” Geoff said. “We don’t have to carve anything in stone right now.”

“This visitation business,” Wade put in. “I don’t know my work schedule yet.”

“I can imagine your hours might be somewhat irregular,” the lawyer noted. “Perhaps you’d be willing to stipulate that you accept Dr. Cavill’s current babysitting arrangements.”

Adrienne could see Wade’s muscles tightening. “Is that a problem for you?” she asked him.

“I haven’t met the babysitter yet.”

How dare he question her choices? Adrienne gripped the pot in her lap. Peace offering or not, she was tempted to chuck it at Wade’s head.

Yet as Geoff had warned earlier, antagonizing the man was likely to backfire. She’d done research on the internet, hoping to find that Vicki’s will and Adrienne’s longtime care of Reggie put her in the driver’s seat. To her dismay, the articles she’d read had confirmed that Wade’s rights took precedence over hers.

She’d been shocked to discover that in California and many other states, even rapists could sue for child custody and/or visitation. Considering that Wade was the injured party here due to Vicki’s threats toward him, what chance was there that a court would side with Adrienne?

That didn’t mean she was giving up on maintaining primary custody. But she’d have to win over Wade with diplomacy, not temper tantrums.

“You should consider living arrangements,” Geoff persisted. “What about overnight visitation, for instance?”

“I’m sleeping on my father’s couch, so I can hardly take Reggie home with me.” Wade shook his head. “I’m not ready to work out a parenting plan. It sounds like a good idea for later, though.”

“I don’t mind if we play this by ear for a while.” In time, Adrienne thought, Wade might accept that staying with her was in his son’s best interest.

“To a certain extent, that may be necessary,” the lawyer said. “However—”

“What about this business of supervised visits?” Wade pressed. “I don’t see why I can’t spend time alone with my son.”

The attorney frowned. “You are a stranger to him.”

Wade leaned forward, storm clouds gathering in his expression. This could blow up in her face, Adrienne realized. Besides, she’d already considered the matter, so why quarrel about it?

She raised her hand in a stop gesture. “It’s fine with me if Wade wants to have private time with Reggie tomorrow evening. My office hours start at six, and he’s looking forward to assembling that toy police station with his dad.”

As she spoke, Wade nodded. It felt almost as if they were on the same side.

“Toy police station? Did I miss something?” Geoff asked.

She explained about Wade stopping by the birthday party. “They aren’t strangers anymore. I’m comfortable with an unsupervised visit. I’m sure my nephew will be fine.”

Wade’s pleased expression lasted only seconds before he broached another subject. “That sounds good, but won’t you be at the hospital all night? Does that mean I should sleep over?”

Adrienne hadn’t thought of that possibility and didn’t care for it. “His regular sitter, Mary Beth Ellroy, and her family are planning a celebration for Reggie—cake and a few small presents. If you could drop him off at her house around eight, that would be great. That’ll give you a chance to meet them, too.”

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