Read Single Dad Sheriff (Harlequin American Romance) Online

Authors: Lisa Childs

Tags: #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Love stories, #Single mothers, #Single fathers, #Sheriffs

Single Dad Sheriff (Harlequin American Romance) (10 page)

BOOK: Single Dad Sheriff (Harlequin American Romance)
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And the boy, despite being older than Tommy, who often claimed he was too old to suffer his mother's frequent displays of affection, clung to him, too.

Over his head, Chance mouthed “Thank you” to his friend.

 

S
OMETHING JUMPED AROUND
in Tommy's stomach when he and his mom climbed the steps to Chance's front porch. It wasn't butterflies; that'd be crazy. Had to be nerves…because sometimes when he got worried about something and couldn't eat, his mom told him he had a nervous stomach.

Maybe she was right about this, too—about leaving Chance and his son alone. But waiting three days before meeting Matthew had been driving Tommy crazy. Since it was spring break, he hadn't even had school to take his mind off Matthew playing alone in the tree house and sleeping alone in those bunk beds. And Tommy not even knowing what he was like…if he was as cool as his dad was.

Tommy missed Chance, too. He'd gone too long without seeing him. But maybe they shouldn't have interrupted him and his son. Maybe Chance would be mad at them. He had his real son now; he didn't need Tommy to play catch or build tree houses. He had Matthew.

And Matthew would probably be really mad, too, that it was Tommy who'd helped build the tree house, and got his dad unrusty playing catch, and slept first in the bunk beds. He probably wouldn't like Tommy at all—let alone want to be like a big brother so that they could all be like a real family.

“Can you knock, honey?” his mom asked. Her arms were wrapped around a brown grocery bag full of all the food she'd cooked. She'd made the cookies Tommy loved, the ones with the big chocolate chunks instead of puny chips. But his stomach had been too nervous for him to eat any of them, even when they'd been all gooey from the oven.

He hadn't touched the lasagna, either, and he really liked peeling off the cheese that burned up against the sides of the pan. When Mom had offered him the cookies and cheese, he'd told her he wanted to wait to eat with Chance and Matthew. But she'd warned him that the Draytons might not invite them to stay. That since Matthew was only going to be here a week, that he might want his dad all to himself.

Tommy didn't blame him. If Chance was his dad, he probably wouldn't want to share him with some strange little kid, either. But if that kid was his brother, it'd be different—he wouldn't be getting just a dad but a whole family.

“Honey?” his mom asked. She shifted the bag of food into one arm and lifted her hand and knocked. Then
she focused on him again. “Everything all right? Do you feel okay? You wouldn't eat earlier, and you look kind of pale right now.” She brushed her hand over his forehead, probably checking to see if he had a fever.

Tommy's throat too dry to swallow, he just nodded.

Her free arm slid around his shoulders now, and she squeezed. As he leaned against her, he felt her heart pounding really hard—like she was nervous, too. But before he could ask her about it, the door opened.

Chance's body blocked the light from inside the house and anything Tommy might have been able to see around him—like his son. His deep voice rumbled out with surprise, “Hey. I didn't think you were coming.”

“We didn't want to intrude,” his mom replied. “But we wanted to bring some things by and make sure you're getting enough to eat.”

“Is that someone else bringing food?” another voice asked. “What is it this time?”

Chance turned to the side so the boy could look out, too. Like his mom had warned Tommy, they hadn't gotten invited inside yet. It was weird. When he and his mom had been working on the house, they'd sometimes just walked in without even knocking. Well, he had. Mom hadn't. And she'd tried to stop him before he'd thrown open the door.

So it was really funny that tonight he hadn't even been able to knock, like some baby. He wasn't a baby, though. He cleared his throat and answered the kid's question. “Mom made cookies—the really good kind—and she doesn't leave 'em in the oven so long that they get dried out and hard.”

“Cool,” the kid answered, like he meant it. He looked
like a short version of Chance with the same blue eyes and black hair instead of Tommy's weird orangish-red.

“I also brought lasagna,” his mom said with a smile. “And a salad.”

At the mention of vegetables, Tommy crossed his eyes and squeezed his lips sideways. Matthew laughed at his fish face.

Chance chuckled and said, “You didn't have to bring us dinner.”

“No,” Mom agreed.

“But we really appreciate it,” Chance said, and he took the bag from her hands. “Thank you.” He glanced down at his son, and his eyes smiled, like he was so happy he was busting. And proud. That must be how dads looked at their sons.

Tommy sighed.

“Matthew.” Chance said the kid's name like he looked at him, with love and pride and happiness. “These are my very good friends—Jessie Phillips and her son, Tommy.”

Tommy glanced up at the sheriff. Had Chance just said his name like he had Matthew's? Like he was proud of him? Like he was happy he was there? Like he might love him?

No. Tommy must have imagined it. It wasn't like he was Chance's son or anything. He had his own dad out there. Somewhere.

“It was Tommy's idea to build the tree house for you,” Chance was explaining to Matthew. “He designed it and helped me build it.”

“Cool,” Matthew said again—like he meant it. “I've never seen a real tree house before. I can't believe I got one. Do you have one?”

Tommy shook his head. “No. We don't have any trees big enough.”

“So we'll share mine,” Matthew offered, “since you worked so hard on it.”

Tommy fought the frogs out of his voice. “That'd be great.”

“Want to go up now?” Matthew asked him. He didn't wait for Tommy's answer before he turned to his dad. “Can we hang out in the tree house for a little while?”

Chance looked at Tommy's mom. “Can the two of you stay for a while?”

“Sure,” she said and stepped inside the house and reached for the bag again. “I can warm up the lasagna and put the salad into bowls.”

“Then you'll have to eat with us,” Chance said.

Tommy blew out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. They hadn't just got invited inside; they'd gotten asked to stay for dinner and to play. This was what he'd been dreaming about ever since Chance had told Tommy his son was coming to visit.

“What about your dad?” Matthew asked Tommy as they headed through the house to the backyard.

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked.

“Is he gonna come over and eat with us, too?”

Tommy shook his head. “Nah, I don't have a dad.”

“You don't?”

“Well, I never met him.” He waited for Matthew to offer to share Chance like he'd offered to share the tree house. But the kid didn't say anything about that; he just opened the back door and headed out into the yard.

Tommy didn't blame him. Sharing a tree house was one thing. But sharing his dad…

Chapter Ten

“I thought you weren't coming,” Chance said over his shoulder as Jessie followed him down the hall to the kitchen. “Matthew's been here for three days already, and you didn't even call.”

Was that hurt she glimpsed in the depths of his dark blue eyes? Or was she just imagining it?

“We always intended to come over and meet your son. I just thought you needed a few days to get to know each other again. And your first meeting with Matthew definitely needed to be just the two of you.” She bit her lip to hold in the question she was dying to ask.
But had it been just the two of them? Or had his ex-wife been here, too?

“It was,” he replied, as if he'd instinctively known what she was dying to ask. “Well, except for my lawyer. He drove Matthew up from Chicago.”

“His mother wasn't able to come?”

“She couldn't get away from the hospital.”

“Hospital? Is she all right?” Jessie felt guilty that she'd been a little bit—okay, more than a little bit—jealous of the woman.

“She's fine—she's a doctor,” he said with nearly the same pride with which he'd introduced his son.

“Oh, that's impressive.” Especially to Jessie, who'd been struggling to take one night class per semester. But, with Belinda babysitting Tommy while she was at class or needed time to study, Jessie had kept at it the past seven years and would soon have her nursing degree.

“Let's hope the judge doesn't think so, too,” he murmured as he placed the bag on the butcher-block counter that complemented the white cabinets and the pale yellow walls of the country kitchen.

“You're impressive,” she assured him. “You're a Marine and a lawman.” If Keith had become even half of the man Chance had, she'd probably lose if he took her to court for Tommy. But she hadn't done a bad job as a single parent. Until her son had gotten fixated on finding his father, he'd been a happy, well-adjusted boy.

“So you think I can win this custody battle?” Chance asked as he stared out the window, watching the boys climb the rope ladder into the tree house.

“I think you can,” she admitted, then wondered aloud, “But do you really want to?”

His dark brows furrowed. “What are you saying? Do you think that I really don't want my son? I just asked you to be here because I was worried that it would be awkward. But it wasn't. It was like we'd hardly been apart—well, except for how much he's grown.”

“I know you want him to live with you,” she said. “But do you really want to take him away from his mother?”

“This isn't about you, Jessie.”

She sucked in a breath in reaction to the sting of his remark. “No, it's not,” she agreed. Her hand shaking, she reached for the handle of the back door. “So Tommy and I should go…”

Chance covered her hand with his, and his chest pressed against her back. His breath stirred her hair as he said, “I'm sorry.”

She resisted the urge to lean back against him, to let his strength and warmth envelope her. No matter how attracted she was to him, they had no business being together.

“I didn't mean that the way it sounded,” he continued. “I just meant that you're not Robyn and I'm not Keith. And you can't compare our situations.”

“What about you?” she asked. “You've admitted that you did exactly that.”

“I know,” he said with a heavy sigh. “And I was wrong.”

“Yes. You were.”

“So don't do the same to me,” he said. “Don't judge me.”

She allowed the tension to leave her body and melted against his chest. “Okay.”

“So you'll stay.”

“Do you want us to stay?”

He tightened his arms around her and lowered his head until his lips brushed her ear. “Yes…”

 

C
HANCE DIDN'T JUST WANT
Jessie to stay. He wanted her. Period. And maybe because of that he should have let her leave. But as the evening wore on, he was happy that she and Tommy had stayed. He'd thought of everything for his son but a friend.

And even though Tommy was younger than Matthew, the boys bonded. But as he'd noticed the first time he'd met Tommy Phillips, the kid had a maturity and determination far beyond his years. He also had that
funny, charming personality that made people want to be his friend. So Chance wasn't surprised that Matthew genuinely liked Tommy.

He was surprised by how much Matthew seemed to like Jessie. He raved over her lasagna and even the salad, having two helpings of each. And when he bit into a cookie, he sighed with ecstasy, as excited as if he'd never had a cookie before in his life. Chance had to tease him about his reaction, even as he sighed in enjoyment himself when he bit into one.

Color flooded Matthew's face. “I don't mean to act like a pig, but Mom doesn't let me eat like this.”

“I'm sorry,” Jessie said, her eyes widening with regret. “Aren't you supposed to have sugar? Does your mom think it's bad for your health?”

Matthew laughed. “No, bad for her apartment. She and Mrs. Ruiz, the housekeeper, think sweets make me too hyper and that I might break something in the house.”

“That's why Mom makes me play outside,” Tommy said. In an apparent imitation of his mother, he pitched his voice high and squeaky and added, “No balls in the house. No skateboarding in the living room.”

“You skateboard?” Matthew asked.

Tommy nodded and then laughed. “Just not very good.”

“I can show you,” Matthew offered. “We have a skateboarding park around the corner from our apartment. I don't get to it that much because Mrs. Ruiz won't let me walk down there by myself. She and Mom think I'll get shot or something. But I know some tricks.”

“So you like your bedroom?” Jessie asked, changing the subject away from the drive-bys, probably because
she'd noticed Chance's tension. Matthew not being able to play safely outside was just one of the reasons he wanted to move his son to Forest Glen.

“I love my room!” Matthew answered enthusiastically.

“Jessie painted it for you,” Chance said. “She worked really hard on it.”

Matthew glanced from him to Jessie and back, as if wondering if they were more than friends. The kid wasn't the only one asking himself that. Chance was, too.

“Thank you,” Matthew told her.

“You're welcome,” Jessie warmly replied. “But no one worked as hard as your father did. He wanted everything to be perfect for you.”

The tree house, the room and bunk beds—Chance had done all that for Matthew. But sitting around the table and talking with the people he cared about made everything perfect for Chance. The house he'd inherited finally felt like his home.

The apartment he'd shared with Robyn hadn't been home for him and apparently her new place wasn't home for Matthew. This house should be the boy's home, and these people his family. Chance had to win the custody case. Emotion overwhelmed him, so much so that he welcomed the ringing doorbell.

Matthew groaned and rubbed his stomach. “That's probably someone else bringing food.”

“Probably,” Jessie agreed as she stood up and began to clear the table.

“It's nice of them,” Matthew said, as he rose from his chair and brought his dish to the sink where Jessie stood. “But it won't be as good as yours.”

On his way to the door, Chance glanced back and noticed Jessie slide her arm around his son's shoulders and squeeze. Matthew, obviously no fool, leaned against her. For a minute, Chance was actually jealous of his son—that his relationship with Jessie could be so uncomplicated. With a sigh of self-disgust, Chance pulled open the front door. His jaw dropped open in shock as he recognized his gray-haired visitor. “Hello, Mrs. Wilson.”

Even though he'd been living in Forest Glen awhile, he hadn't realized how much the townspeople would support him during his son's visit. He hadn't expected any of the casseroles and pies that so many of his neighbors had dropped off. But this woman was the last person he'd figured would come bearing baked goods. Sure enough, though, she held a basket in her arms.

“I brought you something,” she said in her usual brusque, unfriendly manner. “Well, I brought it for you and your boy.” She glanced toward the small SUV parked behind his recently repaired police car. “And I guess Jessie Phillips' boy, too.”

“That wasn't necessary, Mrs. Wilson,” he assured her. “You didn't need to bring us anything.”

“Sure I did,” she insisted. “Every kid needs a pet. And you know I have too many to take care of myself. Dang fool things getting caught up in tractors and car engines and such.”

Chance suppressed a groan because he'd probably need to save his breath if he was right about what she had in the basket hooked over her arm. “Really, it isn't necessary,” he said again.

“Well, if you decide not to keep it, you can drop it off at the animal shelter,” she said, staring at the basket
in confusion. “I don't know why someone dropped this thing off at my house. It's not like I don't have more than enough furry critters.”

“That's probably why animals are dropped at your house,” he pointed out. “People know how much you love them—too much to part with any of them.” He hoped. He'd already made more than his share of trips to the doctor's office.

“I have no problem parting with this kind of critter,” she insisted. “And your boy will love it.”

“He might have the same allergies I have,” Chance warned her. If he was any kind of father, he'd know if his son had allergies and to what. When Jessie had asked Matthew about sugar, he'd had no clue if his son followed a restricted diet. Robyn wouldn't even talk to him.

“I think this is one of those hypoallergenic, nonshedding kind,” Mrs. Wilson assured him as she pulled the furry critter from her basket. The ball of curly yellow fur whined and yipped and licked her fingers.

Chance studied her face, wondering how she knew so much about a stray—a dog, no less—that had been dropped on her property. Had she bought the puppy from a pet store just for his son?

“A puppy!” the boys yelled as they headed down the hall from the kitchen. Both of them ran, skidding in their socks, to the foyer. Barking with excitement, the tiny dog squirmed free of the old woman's grasp and jumped onto the kids who knelt on the hardwood floor to play with him.

“I think they like it,” Mrs. Wilson said with a smile of satisfaction and pleasure. She dropped the basket onto the porch. “There's food and a leash and some other
stuff in there.” The dog was definitely no stray; she had bought it for him.

“Can we keep it?” Matthew asked, his eyes so round with hopefulness that Chance couldn't say no.

He nodded his acceptance. He couldn't disappoint his son or the woman who'd gone to so much trouble to buy him the perfect pet.

“Thank you, ma'am,” Matthew sincerely told Mrs. Wilson, while Tommy, apparently too overwhelmed for words, threw his arms around her and hugged tight.

The old lady stumbled back a step with shock. Then her swollen fingers patted the boy's red head. “You're welcome, honey.”

Chance stumbled as his son threw his arms around his waist. “Thanks, Dad. Everything is perfect.”

Over his son's head, he met Jessie's gaze as she joined all of them in the foyer. She understood and shared the moment of celebration with him, but he also noticed the concern in her gaze. She was as worried as he was that this might be the only visit he had with his son.

 

“S
O MY COOKIES
have been replaced,” Jessie said as she gazed over Chance's makeshift gate into the utility room, where he'd imprisoned the whining labradoodle puppy.

“They named him Cookie,” Chance reminded her, leaning over her shoulder to stare down at the puppy.

She tilted her head to gaze back at him, her breath stalling as she found his face very close—nearly close enough to kiss. “Are you sure you've done the right thing?”

“They'll be fine out there in the tree house,” he assured her. “It's warm tonight, and I made sure the
trapdoor was closed. No one's going to fall out of the tree.”

“I wasn't talking about the boys,” she said. But she wasn't totally convinced that she should have agreed to let them spend the night ten feet in the air. “I meant with the puppy.”

His sigh stirred her hair and raised goose bumps along her skin. “After that allergic reaction, I'm not crazy about things with fur. But you saw how excited the boys got.”

“How hard will it be for Matthew to leave Cookie here when he has to go home?” she asked.

Chance stepped away from her. “I hope it's me he's going to miss more than the dog.”

“I'm sure he will miss you,” Jessie said. “But Robyn might think that getting him a dog wasn't playing fair.”

Would Keith play games with her when he found out about Tommy? Would he compete with her to be the better, more fun parent? Not that Chance had gone out and purchased the puppy; she suspected Mrs. Wilson had done that. No one gave away a specialty-bred dog unless there was a sweet, generous soul hidden beneath her gruff exterior. But Chance had built the tree house and bought all the video games and sporting equipment his son and hers had been playing with all night.

“Not at all,” Chance said. “I didn't plan on giving him that puppy.”

“I know,” she said. “I know. I'm sorry…”

He pushed a hand through his hair, disheveling the dark strands. “This is so hard,” he said, as he turned away from her. “Too hard. Seeing my son again, being with him…” His voice cracked with emotion. “And
knowing that he's only here for a few more days…and that he might not be able to come back ever again.”

Jessie pressed herself against his stiff back and wrapped her arms around him. “You'll see him again. You'll have a relationship with your son.”

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