Erin gave up pretending to sleep at about five-thirty in the morning. She’d done fine when she’d first gone to bed, drifting off with a dopey smile on her lips. Then about midnight she’d awakened suddenly, jerked into consciousness by a frantic dream she couldn’t remember.
Since then she’d tossed and turned. Trying to think soothing thoughts didn’t help. Trying to think about Parker had only made matters worse, because once she’d started recalling the previous evening she hadn’t been able to think about anything else.
Maybe it was the terrace, Erin thought as she stood up and stretched. The worn stones, the vines climbing the side of the house, the scent of the ocean and the sound of the surf on the shore. It was a living, breathing romantic postcard and she was stuck in the center of the picture. So much for being the more logical of the twins.
Maybe it was the man himself, but Erin didn’t want that to be true. If only they’d kept the conversation on Stacey and Christie where it belonged. If only she could stop thinking about him. If only he hadn’t kissed her.
That kiss. That damn kiss. It had been so unexpected. One minute they’d been calmly talking and the next he’d excused himself to go work in his office. On the way out, he’d kissed her. As if it were a common occurrence.
Had he meant to? Did it mean anything?
Yes, it means something, she told herself. It means you’re losing your mind.
She crossed to the bathroom and quickly washed her face. After brushing her teeth and combing her hair into sleek order, she returned to the bedroom and dressed. A quick peek out the curtained window showed her that the sky was still dark. There was no hint of the sunrise so she couldn’t tell what kind of day it was going to be. She walked into the closet and grabbed a pair of jeans. Mornings were usually cool at the beach.
Five minutes later she poked her head in to check on her daughter. Christie was sound asleep, her worn teddy bear tucked under her arm. Erin adjusted the covers, then started along the hallway. The old house seemed to creak with her every step. She crept down the stairs, holding her breath and keeping to the side by the wall. As she passed the second floor, she wondered which room was Parker’s. She hadn’t been with Christie during the tour of the upstairs of the house.
She tried not to think of him sleeping, but trying wasn’t enough. Pictures of him in bed-what did he wear, if anything at all?-flashed through her mind. Her lips tingled as if he’d just repeated the brief kiss.
“Forget it,” she said softly as she reached the first floor and walked toward the kitchen. Three lights on the terrace shone through the living room windows and illuminated her way.
“He’s not interested in you,” she went on, trying to talk some sense into herself. “He’s made that clear. It was just a thank-you sort of kiss. Meaningless.” Except in her suddenly unruly mind.
It was the terrace, she decided as she entered the kitchen, flipped on the light switch and started looking for the coffeemaker. There was no other explanation. She wasn’t melodramatic or romantic. That had been Stacey’s problem. She loved her sister dearly but had never understood her need for drama. Life had a certain rhythm. People took turns. It was balanced and orderly.
She found the coffeepot and the coffee, then poured in the water and sat on a stool to wait. The kitchen was large and bright with big windows overlooking the side garden. Unlike the rest of the house, this room had been completely modernized. Oak cabinets and new appliances lined three walls. The huge center island had a cook top and a sink as well as an eating area running along one side. The cobalt blue bar stool seat cushions matched the tile splash guard along the stretch of wall between the counters and the cabinets.
The smell of coffee revived her. Erin leaned on the counter and wondered why this was happening to her. What was it about the situation that made her act so out of character? She’d always been so calm about everything, taking things as they came, waiting until the time was right, until it was appropriate to respond. Waiting for her turn. Unlike Stacey, she’d never grabbed at life with both hands.
The coffee finished dripping. She slid off the stool to get a cup at the same moment the back door opened. Kiki stepped inside and the two women stared at each other.
Erin registered several facts at once. First, Kiki wasn’t wearing the dress she’d had on the previous night although she recognized it as the garment slung over the housekeeper’s arm. Second, the pink jogging suit was the exact color of the blush climbing the other woman’s cheeks. Third, there was the distinctive sound of a car driving away.
Kiki recovered first. “The coffee smells great.”
“Help yourself.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” She set the dress and her purse on the small table in front of the window, then walked over to the cupboard above the pot and pulled down a cup.
Erin stared at her. “Are you just now getting in?”
“Why, yes.”
“But it’s nearly six in the morning.”
“I know, dear.” Kiki held out the pot. “Do you want some?”
“What? Oh, thank you.” She waited while the housekeeper poured coffee then added cream into the steaming liquid, and glanced at the other woman. Kiki was getting home at six in the morning? She’d been out all night?
“I’m always available to baby-sit,” Kiki said, “but in the past, if Parker didn’t need me in the evening, I went out.” She took a sip of her coffee, then smiled. “Don’t look so shocked.”
“Do I?” Erin resumed her seat on the stool. “I don’t mean to be. It’s great that you have a…life.”
Kiki settled next to her. She grinned. “What you mean is that it’s nice that I have a man. It’s true what they say, you know. Life does begin at forty. I’ve been living mine for nearly fourteen years.”
“You’ve been dating the same man for fourteen years?”
Kiki laughed. “Honey, no. Not the same man. Several men. I go out, I enjoy myself. Sometimes I don’t come home before dawn.”
Great, the housekeeper had a more interesting life than she did, Erin thought glumly. Joyce had been right. She was living like a nun.
“What’s his name?” Erin asked.
Kiki leaned one elbow on the counter and looked at her. Bright blond hair fell over the housekeeper’s forehead. Lines crinkled around her blue eyes as she smiled. “Which one?”
“How many are there?”
“Three.”
Three? “Three different men?”
“You’re looking shocked again. It’s not all that uncommon.”
“It is to me.”
“You young people are so conservative. You should live a little. Play the field. I recommend it highly.”
Erin thought about that for a minute. She hadn’t had a date since Christie was born, and Kiki was keeping company with three different men. “Do they know about each other?”
“Of course.” Kiki raised her hand and began ticking off fingers. “Dan is nearly sixty. His wife died a couple of years ago. He likes living by himself and doesn’t plan to remarry. Still, a man has needs, so I see him once a week. Next is Roger. He’s my age and he’s divorced.”
Erin made the mistake of taking a sip of her coffee while Kiki was talking. She swallowed it the wrong way and started choking. Kiki pounded her on the back, then waited politely until she was done.
“Better?” she asked when Erin finally caught her breath.
“Sure,” Erin croaked. “Go on.”
“I also see Roger once a week. Now Skip is my boy toy.”
Erin had learned her lesson. This time the cup was only partway to her mouth. Coffee sloshed over the side, but she managed to keep it off her sweatshirt.
“You have a boy toy?”
“That’s what I call him. Skip is younger, barely forty, I think, although he’s never said. He’s also divorced and not ready for a relationship. But he’s a man, and a man has-”
“Needs. Yes, I’ve figured that part out.”
“I see Skip at least twice a week.” Kiki leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Younger men have more powers of recovery, if you know what I mean.”
Erin felt a flush climb her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “Who were you with last night?”
Kiki sighed dramatically. “Skip. A few hours with him and I feel like a new woman.”
“They know about each other and don’t mind?”
“I’m very honest with them. Everyone is getting what he or she wants, so why would anyone mind? I’m discreet and careful. Skip and I even use condoms. Imagine, a woman of my age.”
“Secretly you’re nineteen,” Erin muttered.
Kiki laughed. “I know.”
“I’ve never known anyone like you.”
Kiki’s laughter faded. She slid off the stool and walked over to the cupboards. While she pulled out flour, spices and an open box of raisins she said, “Oh, I’m not so different from everyone else. I was thinking of cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Would you and Christie like that?”
Erin’s stomach growled. “Sounds wonderful.”
Kiki brought the ingredients to the opposite side of the center island. “Christie is a sweet girl. I’m sure she brings you a lot of joy.”
“She does.”
Kiki glanced up at her. Sadness filled her eyes. “I had a child once. A little boy. He died when he was twelve. A car hit him while he was riding his bike.”
Erin’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“It was a long time ago.” Kiki began measuring out ingredients. “My marriage failed. Many do, you know, after the death of a child. There’s so much suffering and need. I was clinically depressed for nearly three years. Then one day I began to get better.” She wiped her hands on a towel by the island sink. “One of the things that wore me down was the regrets. The things I should have said to my boy. All the places we could have gone.”
The animation fled her face leaving her looking old and tired. Erin ached for her. “Kiki, I-”
“No. Don’t you worry about me. When I left that hospital, I swore to myself I wouldn’t ever have regrets again, and I haven’t.” She smiled then, the skin by her eyes crinkling and her generous mouth turning up. “I live my life the way I want and there’s not many who can say that.”
Kiki finished mixing the dough, then sprinkled flour on the counter and dug through the drawers for a rolling pin. Erin sipped coffee and watched her. She admired Kiki’s spirit and willingness to go on despite the tragedy in her life. She remembered how immobilized she’d been after Stacey died. If it hadn’t been for Christie, she didn’t know what might have happened.
Did she have regrets? Erin wasn’t sure. She couldn’t regret Christie. The bright young child was so much a part of her life, she couldn’t imagine a world without her. She was sorry she, Erin, hadn’t gone on to graduate school. She’d had dreams of studying photography, of taking pictures that made people feel something. Stacey used to tease her about wanting to find her work in coffee table books across the country. Erin had been pleased by the idea. But after Christie entered her life there had been neither time nor money to pursue her dream.
Sometimes she regretted that she was so alone. She didn’t miss any specific man, but it would be nice to have someone to share things with. Instantly her mind conjured up an image of Parker. Her lips tingled as she remembered their kiss.
It wasn’t a kiss, she reminded herself. It was a brief peck, the kind one might give a distant relative. At least it was to him, and that’s what mattered. It was one thing to have fantasies in the privacy of her own mind. It was quite another to try to force someone into making those fantasies come true.
Kiki sprinkled cinnamon and raisins on the dough, then rolled it up. “Sounds like someone else is up,” she said.
Erin tilted her head. She could hear creaking from the stairs and the faint sound of laughter. She glanced at the clock and was surprised to find it was nearly seven.
“I hope Christie didn’t wake up Parker,” she said as she slid off the stool.
“Don’t worry if she did. That man needs a little shaking up, and I think she’s just the person to do it.”
Erin gave her a quick grin, then left the kitchen and headed for the living room. As she crossed the hardwood floor, she glanced up. The sun had moved past the horizon and faint fingers of light filtered into the room. She could see the groupings of furniture and the stairs beyond.
Parker came into view, his long, lean legs moving easily. Christie sat on his shoulders. She clung to his head and squealed with delight.
“Mommy, Mommy, look at me!”
“I see you.”
Parker and his daughter were laughing. Erin noticed their identical smiles and felt a faint twinge of discomfort. She’d known coming here and introducing Parker to his child would change everything. It had been the right decision, but nothing would ever be the same again. She would always be Christie’s mother although now that precious love would be shared.
“You’re up early,” Parker said when he reached the bottom stair. “Couldn’t you sleep?”
No, and it was his fault. She’d hoped that the hours of darkness would have given her a little perspective on the situation, but they didn’t seem to have helped. He was just as good-looking as he’d been yesterday. Worn jeans possessively hugged his thighs. His flannel shirt had been washed to the point of fading. It caressed his broad strength with the clinging attention of a lover.
“I often have trouble sleeping in a new place,” she said.
“I slept the whole night,” Christie said.
He reached up and grabbed her under her arms. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He lifted her over his head and lowered her to the floor. Christie landed on her feet, then raced to give her mother a hug. “I got dressed my own self,” she said proudly.
Erin glanced at the red shorts and mismatched pink-and-blue shirt. “I see that. You did a fine job.”
“I even brushed my teeth.” She opened her mouth to show proof. Her dark hair stood up in little tufts, so she’d forgotten that, but it was pretty good grooming for a four-year-old.
“I checked your room, but you were gone,” Christie continued. “So I came downstairs. That’s where I found Daddy.”
Parker gazed at her fondly. “I was already working when I heard these very quiet footsteps.”
“I can guess how quiet,” Erin said. Parker didn’t have a problem meeting her eyes so apparently he wasn’t spending every other minute reliving their kiss. Forget it, she ordered herself. Forget it before you make a fool of yourself.
Parker sniffed the air. “Ah, I see Kiki is making cinnamon rolls.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got some work to do this morning. What do you think about a picnic lunch on the beach around noon?”
“I want to go to the beach now,” Christie said and stomped her foot.
“But I have to work now.”
“Why?”
He bent over and touched her head. “So I can pay for this house and the beach and our picnic lunch.”
Christie looked up at him and wrinkled her nose. “Okay.”
“Would you like that, Erin?” he asked.
“The picnic sounds great. I’ll keep Christie quiet this morning.”
“This might be a good time to check out the library on the second floor,” he told her.
“We’ll go investigate.”
“Intestivate,” Christie repeated.
“Almost,” Erin told her. “Let’s go eat breakfast.”
She held out her hand and Christie took it. She tilted her head. “Are you coming, Daddy, or are you going to work now?”
“I’m going to work. Kiki will bring me some breakfast later.”
“Okay, bye.” She waved with her free hand, then turned and headed for the kitchen. “I didn’t know my daddy was going to be this nice. I’m glad we found him.”
Erin glanced over her shoulder and saw Parker staring after them. He must have heard Christie’s comment. The masculine planes of his face were harsh with longing. Erin knew what his regret was-he regretted all the time he’d lost with this precious child.
The remains of their picnic lay scattered on the blanket. Kiki had prepared sandwiches and two different kinds of salad. The cookies had disappeared quickly. She’d even provided juice for Christie and wine for the adults.
Erin sat cross-legged on the blanket. A warm breeze ruffled her hair. The temperature was close to seventy-five, the sun was bright, the ocean a brilliant shade of blue.
“Ooh, it’s so cold!” Christie screamed as the white foamy fingers of a wave tickled her bare feet. The ocean surged away from the shore, and she raced after it, only to shriek and run back when it flowed in again.
Parker had stretched out on his back, one hand under his head. His wineglass rested on his flat belly. He turned toward Christie. “If you see little bubbles in the sand, that means there are crabs hiding there.”
“Really?” She bent over and checked for the narrow holes. “But I can’t dig very fast.” Her smile turned sly. “If I had a puppy I bet he could dig faster than any old crab.”
“Nice try,” Erin said. “It’s not going to work, but it’s a very nice try.”
Christie raced toward them, swooped down and picked up the inflatable beach ball Kiki had unearthed from somewhere. It was bright yellow and nearly too big for Christie to hold. She flung it in the air and raced after it.
Parker continued to watch her for several minutes. “If you and Stacey are identical twins and Stacey is Christie’s mother, what does that make you?”
“Her aunt and her legal guardian.”
He turned his head until he was looking at her. “I know that. I was thinking about the biology. Genetically, aren’t you more her mother than her aunt?”
“I’m not sure.” She frowned. “I suppose I am. Identical twins share DNA. In theory I guess I could be her genetic mother.”
Which raised another interesting theory. If she and Parker had a child together, they could have one exactly like Christie. Of course the odds were against it, but next time she couldn’t sleep, she would mull it over in her mind. It sounded more interesting than counting sheep.
She reached for her wine.
“Did you legally adopt Christie?” he asked.
Her hand froze in midair as a shiver raced down her spine. “Why do you want to know?”
His mouth softened with concern. He stretched out his arm and grabbed her hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was curious not probing. I swear I have no plans to kidnap Christie or sue for custody.”
His fingers squeezed hers. Awareness coursed through her easing away the fear. She liked the feel of him holding her hand. Foolishly it made her feel safe. She settled her gaze on his chest, watching the rise and fall from his breathing.
“I overreacted,” she said. “I think it’s this situation. Even though I tried to plan for everything, it’s still very strange to be here with you, to watch you with Christie.”
He gave her fingers a final squeeze, then released her. “She loves you. Nothing can change that.”
“I know. Christie has a big heart. She could love the world.” In the distance the little girl laughed and tossed her beach ball in the air.
“Robin and I talked about having children. We met in high school. We were both computer nerds back before it was popular.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Everyone thought she was kind of goofy looking, but I thought she was pretty.”
A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. She itched to push it in place. Instead she curled her fingers toward her palm and willed herself to pay attention to his story. Maybe if he talked about his late wife enough, she, Erin, would stop being so attracted to him.
“We went to the same college. She was brilliant.”
“What were you?”
His half smile turned into a grin. “Merely smart.”
“I doubt that.”
“It’s true. Robin thought like a computer. We started the company and were wildly successful. Then one day she didn’t feel well.” His eyes fluttered closed.
Erin wondered what he was remembering, then figured it was better that she didn’t know. She stared across the sand to where Christie was digging for crabs. The waves rushed in and filled her handiwork. She sat back on her heels and laughed.
“It took the doctor a while to figure out what was wrong. Finally they diagnosed amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Lou Gehrig’s disease,” he added, before she could ask.
“How horrible. For both of you. But-” She frowned. She knew Robin had been dead for several years. “It’s ultimately fatal, but I thought it moved slowly.”
“You mean it shouldn’t have killed her yet?” His voice was harsh.
“Yes,” she said softly.
“You’re right. It shouldn’t have. Robin got the flu. It turned into pneumonia and she died of that.”
He still hadn’t opened his eyes. She couldn’t read his expression, but she felt his pain. And his guilt. But why would he feel guilty? He couldn’t have prevented her from dying. He wasn’t a medical expert.
“How long has it been?” she asked, vaguely remembering he’d mentioned it yesterday but not recalling the exact amount of time that had passed.
“Just over five years. She died in April. It was the same year your sister was here as a programming intern.” He raised his hand to his face and rubbed his forehead. “I should have canceled the program. I wasn’t in any shape to help those kids. But I knew they’d given up lucrative summer jobs to come here and work with me. In a way, I thought it might help me recover. I was wrong.”
Erin sucked in a breath. “You loved her very much.”
He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Yes.” I still do. He didn’t say the words but she heard them.
The last confusing pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Stacey had fallen for the emotionally tragic Parker. He had been her dark prince personified. With her need to create the most drama in a situation, Stacey could have inflated all kinds of half-truths into what she wanted to believe. She had been ripe for romance and Parker had fulfilled her every fantasy. Except one. He had never even known she was alive.
Her throat tightened painfully. The situation had been a disaster waiting to happen. If only Stacey had told her what was going on. She might have been able to help her. Erin sighed. She was wishing for the moon. Stacey wouldn’t have wanted to hear the truth. She was more interested in her romantic fantasies.
But if she had contacted Erin, maybe Stacey wouldn’t have died.
“I’m sorry,” Parker said.
Erin blinked at him, trying to figure out what he was apologizing for. Surely he couldn’t read her mind. He set his wineglass on the blanket, then sat up.
“I didn’t mean to dump all that on you,” he said.
“It’s okay.”
“For some reason you’re easy to talk to.”
The compliment made her want to smile. “Maybe because we’re strangers,” she said. “I’m safe.”
“Possibly. And I’ve been hiding out here too long. Maybe I have become a recluse.”
No problem, Erin thought. He was a recluse, and she was turning into her sister. She’d wanted to grin like a fool because he told her she was easy to talk to. Now she was crushed because he practically told her it was because she was convenient. Anyone would have done. Get a grip!
He rose to his feet. “I’ll try not to be a self-centered bore,” he promised.
“Gee, what kind of bore will you be?”
He grinned. Her heart shifted into overdrive.
“An entertaining bore.” With that he sprinted down the beach toward Christie.
Erin watched him go. Sunlight gleamed on his dark hair and he moved with the loose-hipped grace of a natural athlete. He was far too handsome for her peace of mind. Thank goodness she was the sensible Ridgeway twin. If she wasn’t, she might be in danger of falling for him, and the last thing she needed was a broken heart.