A Better Father (Harlequin Super Romance) (19 page)

“I... This is quite a surprise.” Sharon had never sounded so
uncertain in all the time he’d known her. “I don’t know.... It’s such a long
drive, and I don’t want them to fly alone....”

He gritted his teeth and pushed out the words he knew he had to
say. “I wouldn’t want them to fly alone, either. The invitation is for you,
too.”

Sharon sat back in her chair. She stared at him, first in
surprise, then with suspicion.

“Why?”

It was a fair enough question. “I think they’re drifting apart.
I don’t want that any more than you do. I can’t get away until camp is over, so
this is the logical answer.”

And, he realized, it could work in his favor, as well. If he
got Sharon up here, got her to see how great this place was and how Casey was
thriving here...well, it would be silly to think she might drop the suit. She
was too invested in it at this point. But maybe she wouldn’t fight as hard. And
maybe, once it was over and his right to keep his son with him had been
established, once and for all, maybe it would be easier to build a new working
relationship with her if she felt in her heart that Casey was happy and healthy
and safe.

She would always be Casey’s aunt. She would always be in his
life, and long-term, Sam wanted her to be there. She loved Casey and she could
share more of Robin with him than he himself ever could.

They would have to work these things out after the hearing. Why
not start now?

“I don’t know.” Sharon spoke slowly, but to her credit, she
seemed to be giving the idea serious consideration. “We have a lot going on this
month already, and I don’t have the calendar in front of me. But I... This is so
sudden, I can’t...”

A sharp rapping on Sam’s front door gave him an easy exit.
“Look, someone’s at my door, and I know I caught you by surprise. Take a couple
of days to think it over and let me know. There’s no hidden agenda here, Sharon.
I just want what’s best for Casey and his cousins, same as you.”

She gave a quick nod and said goodbye as he ended the call,
gathered Casey and booted it down the stairs while yelling that he was on his
way. She hadn’t seemed overly enthusiastic about the offer, but he couldn’t
blame her. He was kind of blown away himself.

His equilibrium took another direct hit when he opened the door
to find Cosmo standing before him, taut and barely recognizable in a neatly
pressed shirt with an overnight bag at his feet.

“Cos?”

“I’m taking tomorrow off. Won’t be back until lunchtime
Saturday. Don’t worry, I prepped everything I could and lined up folks to do
what else is needed. You won’t have any trouble.”

Sam could feel his jaw sagging but had no time to do anything
about it before Casey lurched forward, reaching for his buddy. Cosmo’s face
softened as he reached for the child.

“Have fun while I’m gone, kid. Make your old man miserable for
me.”

Sam found his voice as Cosmo gently set Casey on the floor
before hefting his bag.

“Uh...is everything okay?”

“Fine and dandy.”

“You gonna tell me where you’re going?”

“Nope.”

Cosmo turned his back on Sam and headed for the darkness beyond
the circle of light spilling out of the house. Taking a wild chance, Sam called,
“Say hi to Myra for me, will you?”

Just like that, Cosmo stopped and stiffened. Not long. Just
enough to tell Sam that his suspicions had been dead-on.

In one of the fastest recoveries Sam had ever seen, Cosmo
headed back into the night. “See ya Saturday.”

“Yeah. See you.” Under his breath, he added a swift and sincere
“Good luck.”

And then he grabbed the walkie-talkie at his hip. He couldn’t
wait to spill the news to Libby.

* * *

B
RIGHT
AND
EARLY
the next morning, Sam dropped his kids at the
games field, hung around long enough to be sure that everyone was behaving and
the counselors had the situation under control, then loped up to the office.
Libby was headed into town for a meeting. The social worker was due a bit after
that. He hadn’t been this nervous since the first time Robin had left him alone
with Casey while she ran to the store.

Half a dozen people stopped him on his way, but he had made
sure to give himself extra time to allow for such occurrences. By the time he
burst through the door he was kind of puffed that he had dealt with them all,
known the answers to their questions and still arrived with five minutes to
spare. Enough time to broach the subject of Sharon and her kids visiting camp,
not enough to have to go into details.

He bounded up the steps, waltzed into the office and allowed
himself a glow of pride when he saw Libby’s pleasant surprise. He’d made her
smile like that. Yeah. Him. And if he was going to be dragged through hell once
the social worker arrived, the least he could do was keep the smile on Libby’s
face and earn himself a few minutes of heaven.

“You’re early.”

“Just call me Mr. Reliable.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, then, maybe I’ll stop telling you
to show up ten minutes before I really need you.”

Her smile softened the words, and he took them in the joking
vein he knew they were intended. Camp wasn’t the only thing he was mastering. He
had almost earned a degree in Libby Kovak 101.

So he felt very secure in offering her his biggest leer and
saying, “Do you mean we have time to kill before you have to leave?”

Her blush was as adorable as he had anticipated. “Forget it,
mister. Hands on the table and all body parts to yourself.”

“Fine.” He heaved an overly dramatic sigh before leaning over
her shoulder. “Did you miss me?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. Just a little?”

She made a great show of checking the clock. “My, look how late
it is. I really need to hit the road.”

“Sure. You do that. Because we both know you’re just running
away to keep from throwing yourself at me.”

The deepening of the roses in her cheeks told him he wasn’t as
far off as she would like him to believe.

She shook her head and started to rise, but he grabbed her arm
before she could make her escape. “One quick thing.”

“I am not kissing you. I don’t care how quick you say it will
be.”

“Did I say anything about kissing? Did I even hint at it? No.
Seems to me you’re the one who keeps bringing it up.” He shook his head. “You
know, I think we’ve stumbled across a case of the lady protesting too much.”

“Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that, pal.” She softened the
words with a saucy smile before adding, “Here’s something to fill the time.
Lesson one.” She pointed to the open file drawer. “My shins are going to be
permanently scarred from tripping over that. How about we practice closing
it?”

He kicked it, too hard, and pain radiated up his leg. “Ow!”

She leveled an amused glace in his direction. “You broke how
many bones playing hockey, and you’re whining over a stubbed toe?”

“Hey, I earned those breaks fair and square. Not like this. I
could swear I closed that sucker.” He wiggled his toes inside his sneaker, then
grinned. “Besides, when I got hurt playing hockey, I had therapy. And massages.
Those really helped. How would you like to—”

“No massages.” She winked. “But you do get points for
trying.”

He’d take points. Full frontal body contact would be better,
but points would eventually have to add up to something mind-blowing. Wouldn’t
they?

Distracted by thoughts of Libby’s hands sliding over him,
rubbing hot peppermint-scented cream into every aching muscle—and he was
developing more aches by the second—it took him a moment to remember what he
needed to discuss with her.

“Listen.” He boosted himself up on her desk and leaned forward
so he was at her eye level. He spared himself a breath of soaking in the
nearness of her, then gave himself a shake and pressed on. “Casey has an aunt.
Robin’s sister. She has two kids, really great ones, and when Casey was with
Robin, he was with them every day. They miss him. He misses them, and last night
when he was talking to them, I kind of invited them to visit. They haven’t said
yes yet,” he added as her eyes widened. “And I didn’t say anything about having
them take part in camp stuff. But I wanted to talk to you about the
possibility.”

“You wanted to check with me before you made definite
plans?”

“Yep.”

“Well.” She leaned back, arms crossed, but eyeing him in a way
that made him think he’d just earned a bunch more points. “Well, well. It seems
you can be taught after all.”

“Yeah?” Silly to feel as though someone had turned on a light
inside him, but it would be even sillier to pretend he wasn’t getting a glow
from her praise. Or maybe that was just the head rush he was getting from
inhaling her coconut shampoo.

“It certainly looks that way.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Do I get a gold star,
teacher?”

Her eyebrows arched and a smile played on her lips, pulling him
even closer. “I seem to be all out of stars.”

“Not fair. I was a good student. I deserve a reward.”

“Yes, you do,” she murmured, and her hand came up to his chest.
He leaned in, aiming for that mouth, fully intent on claiming it once again.

He was so focused that when she pushed against his chest and
sent her chair flying backward, he stumbled off the desk and almost did a
face-plant on the floor.

Her laughter wrapped round him as he straightened up.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” he said with mock
severity.

“Immensely.” She snorted before dissolving into giggles.

This was the Libby he remembered, the one who could tease and
laugh and make his world right with a smile. He’d missed her.

And that, he realized with a start, was what had drawn him to
Robin. It wasn’t the fact that she bore a resemblance to Libby, though as Brynn
had pointed out, lots of people did seem to favor a physical type. But what had
attracted him to Robin was the same thing that had pulled him to Libby all those
years ago—the confidence, the humor, the determination.

He had a type, all right—strong women who took what life handed
them and made it their own, laughing all the way. The same traits he admired
most in his mother and Brynn.

There was nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all. Even better,
he was pretty sure there was nothing selfish about admiring the same qualities
in two women who shared a certain physical similarity.

“Hey. Sam, are you okay?”

He shook his head at Libby’s sudden concern, then realized he
was sending the wrong message. “Fine. Not to worry. I just— You know how all of
a sudden things can come clear when they never were before?”

“Sometimes.” She drew in a small breath. “You want to tell me
more?”

Sam had never pretended to have all the answers when it came to
women, but even he knew that telling Libby he had just figured out why he’d had
the hots for both her and Robin was probably not going to earn him any more
points. He pulled himself away from the desk and headed for the door.

“Another time. I should get back to my group.”

Her eyes clouded, as if his words had pulled a screen between
them. For a second he wondered if he’d hurt her again. But her voice was
cheerful as she said, “Of course. Can’t have you neglecting your duties. Don’t
want to lose your job.”

She was still teasing, still smiling, but the sparkle had fled
from her eyes.

Dammit. It wouldn’t help to tell her the truth, at least not
now when she had to run and there wasn’t time for long explanations, but there
had to be some way to help her. Surely there was something he could say to ease
her mind.

But before he could wrap his brain around the right approach,
she was out of the chair, reaching for her purse and the clipboard he’d come to
hate.

“I’d better hit the road. See you when I get back.”

He watched her go with an ache in his gut. Partly because, with
her gone, there was no one to distract him from the upcoming visit. But mostly
he hurt because he’d hurt her. Again. All because he was afraid to tell her the
truth. All the positive spin in the world couldn’t change that fact: he was
afraid.

And he was sick of it.

So he was scared. Who wouldn’t be? But the cold hard truth was
that keeping silent wasn’t going to do a damned thing to change the outcome of
the court case. The only thing he was impacting was his relationship with Libby,
and sure as hell not for the better.

He’d killed their chances once, when he was young and stupid
enough to think that keeping silent would give him some kind of power over his
fears. He wasn’t that naive anymore. Nor did he think that he would ever be
lucky enough to get a third chance if he blew this one.

Dammit to hell and back. If Cosmo could find the strength to
speak up, then so could Sam.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

L
IBBY
TURNED
OFF
the highway to navigate her car around the bumps and through the ruts
leading to the staff parking lot and realized she was humming. Come to think of
it, she’d been doing a lot of that lately. Since that night on the sofa with
Sam, to be precise.

Was it the smartest thing she had ever done? No. Did she regret
it? Nope. Her only regret was that he was still holding back. Maybe he was
waiting to see if she would be around after summer’s end. She could understand
that. It was a lot more pleasant than indulging other thoughts, such as the
possibility that he simply didn’t want or was incapable of being honest with
her.

It would be so much easier to think clearly if she didn’t keep
remembering how his seduction techniques had improved over the years.

Her good mood had carried her through the frustration of
driving into town only to learn that the person she was scheduled to meet with
had come down with a bug and had to go home, just after she had left the camp
and couldn’t be reached. She’d had a long drive for no reason and she didn’t
really care. She ran into the bakery and treated herself to a decadent cinnamon
roll and the best iced coffee she had ever had, bar none, then sipped and
nibbled her way back to camp.

And, of course, she wondered about Sam. A lot.

She parked the car, but Carrie Underwood was singing about a
cowboy Casanova so she lingered a moment, belting out the words while digging
her phone from her purse for a quick look. Not a lot of messages. Two from her
ill-fated meeting—aha, they
had
tried to contact
her—one from Sam, a couple from parents who called so often that she recognized
their numbers and one that she didn’t recognize but set her heart racing when
she listened to the voice mail.

It was the Uplands Central school district. And as she learned
when she returned the call, they wanted her to come in for an interview.

She sat for another minute after hanging up, staring at a truck
rumbling by en route to the pavilion but barely processing the sight.

And realized she was...surprised.

Not that she’d been invited for an interview. After her
conversation with Mick’s mother, she’d kind of expected that. No, what left her
dazed and staring into space was the fact that she was—well—excited. She was
already anticipating questions and formulating her answers and, holy moly,
picturing a classroom in her mind. With her at the front of it.

But how could she be excited about teaching when, not two
months earlier, she’d planned to spend the rest of her life at camp?

The answer came to her in a flash, much like the way the
sunlight glittered that moment, bouncing off the rearview mirror of another car
pulling onto the lot. It was because a teaching job was her way to get the camp
back. Of course. She’d forgotten for a moment, which made no sense, though her
current Sam-induced hormonal rush could be responsible. She would teach in the
school year and work at the camp in the summers and save her money so she could
somehow buy the camp when Sam eventually packed it in.

If she was a bit excited about the prospect of teaching, well,
that was a bonus. Especially since she no longer believed that Sam would leave
as easily as she had once thought.

In fact, if she were being honest, she kind of hoped he would
stick around for a—

“Excuse me.”

Libby jerked out of the la-la land she’d let herself drift into
and realized there was a woman standing by the open window of her car. She gave
a little jerk and fumbled for her keys.

“Just a moment,” she said, and gathered her trash, phone, purse
and clipboard while raising the windows. The stranger waited patiently.
Something about her made Libby’s teeth ache. She seemed too poised, too
confident, too...

Juggling her various bits and pieces, Libby struggled out of
the car while trying to figure out why the woman had her on edge.

Please, let it be more than just pettiness
because she’s slim and gorgeous and I’m back in the Emergency Bloat
skirt.

The other woman watched Libby with an air of amusement, but
simply said, “I’m Elise Farne, here to see Sam Catalano. Could you tell me where
to find him?”

This woman was too
alert,
Libby
realized. She was too watchful, too observant. In her sleek brown pants and
mustard-colored shirt, she made Libby think of a lioness, all tawny and golden
and ready to pounce.

“He should be with the kids right now. I’m Libby Kovak, the
assistant director. Perhaps I can help you?”

“I’m not here about camp business, thank you. How can I let Mr.
Catalano know that I’m here?”

The easiest thing to do would be to take this—whatever—to the
office and page Sam over the walkie-talkie, but everything in Libby rebelled at
the thought. Not until she had a better idea who the woman was and why she was
here.

“He’s probably at the craft hut with his group. But he didn’t
mention anything to me about an appointment this morning, so I might need you
to—”

“I assure you, he’s expecting me. I spoke to him just yesterday
to confirm our meeting. So if you could let him know that I’m here...”

“I’ll walk you there myself.”

There were times when a decade-plus of talking to kids, staff
and parents came in handy. It meant that Libby had a full arsenal of tricks up
her sleeve when she needed to extract information from someone determined to
keep it from her. Usually she preferred to wait until the other person was ready
to open up anyway, but this was one of those cases when waiting simply wasn’t an
option.

Unfortunately, the woman gracefully navigating the ruts and
gravel—in heels, no less—made Libby’s interrogative efforts look like a kid
trying to wheedle the location of a Christmas gift from a tight-lipped parent.
By the time they rounded the corner, Libby had learned nothing more than the
fact that the woman had driven in from Brockville and that the ride was indeed
pleasant on such a lovely day.

As if the woman’s evasiveness weren’t enough, as they rounded
the corner to the craft hut Libby realized that Sam had set up this meeting for
a time when he knew she would be off the premises—in other words, a time when he
was supposed to be one hundred percent focused on the camp. Scheduling a private
meeting for himself at this time veered on a violation of the rule that said one
of them had to be fully available at all times.

The excitement that had carried her through the past few days
drained away with every step. All she felt now was confused and disappointed and
angry. And tired. So very, very tired.

Then she saw Sam hightailing it away from the craft hut. Tanya
stumbled behind him.

And though she hadn’t believed it possible, the morning slid
even further downhill.

* * *

I
F
HE
DIDN
’
T
PUT
DISTANCE
between
himself and Tanya right now, he was either going to fire her or drop her in the
middle of the woods without a compass. Maybe both.

It had been such a good morning once he made his decision to
speak up. At snack time there was food Casey would actually eat, Mrs. Collins
hadn’t batted an eye when he’d told her to call him when a woman showed up at
the door, and Mick’s father had called with the welcome news that Mick had a new
baby sister. Sam had handed the phone to Mick and grinned like a fool at the
boy’s excitement. When the call ended, the craft hut erupted with slaps on the
back and high fives and fist bumps. In the excitement, Sam had slipped out the
back door to call the kitchen and request a special cake for Mick at dinner.

But the moment he ended the call and turned to go back in the
building, he found himself face-to-face with Tanya.

Literally face-to-face.

“Sam.” She grabbed his shirt and twirled it around her hand
before he could back away. “I need you.”

Please, God, let her mean anything except
that.

“Tanya—”

“No. Please. Let me talk, I... Sam, you have to know how I feel
about you. That night, after the skunk—and it really was a skunk, you have to
believe me—just knowing you were there made all the difference in the world to
me. I need to be alone with you.” She shimmied closer so her breasts brushed his
chest. He sucked in his breath to avoid the contact but she pressed closer. “Let
me come to you tonight,” she whispered, rising on tiptoe to bring her mouth
closer to his. “After lights-out. Let me show you exactly what you mean to
me.”

She leaned in closer. Her hair tickled his nose. She was going
for the kill—er, the kiss.

But while Sam was still trying to get a handle on running a
camp and being a father, there was one thing he knew how to do very well. He
knew how to move.

She tipped her head back and angled her mouth and in that
moment, when she was so focused on getting herself in position, he slumped to
one side, throwing her off balance. She stumbled. Her grip weakened. He ducked,
spinning away from her, reaching back in time to grab her arm so she wouldn’t do
a face-plant.

Tears swam in her eyes as she stared at him, openmouthed.

“Never again, Tanya. Got it?”

Harsh, maybe, but he was in no mood to let her down gently. She
had brought this on herself. “Try anything like that again and you’ll be off the
grounds faster than you can blink.”

“But I—”

“No buts, Tanya. Let it go now and I’ll forget this ever
happened. Push it, and you’ll be on instant probation. Or worse.”

She clamped her mouth shut. Good. He would have been a lot more
reassured if not for the anger he saw flashing in her eyes.

It was gone almost too fast to register, replaced by tears and
sorrow, but it sent a shiver through him that the August heat couldn’t ease.

He turned and headed around the building, choosing to go the
long way rather than brush past her to go through the back door. He heard the
gasp behind him, heard the sniffle of tears, but he didn’t buy it for a
minute.

Tanya was up to something. And the sooner he could talk to
Libby about it, the—

He rounded the building and stopped so fast he almost gave
himself whiplash. There stood Libby, looking more pissed off than he had seen
her since those first awkward days in the office. Beside her stood a woman who
had to be the social worker, here to do his home study.

Ah, crap.

Then, because life wasn’t sufficiently screwed up, Tanya called
out, “Sam, please, you have to give me a chance. Just one more—”

She stopped in midwail. Sam’s muscles tightened as he watched
Libby’s glance flit from him to Tanya and back again. The social worker could
have been watching a Ping-Pong tournament, that’s how fast her head was bobbing
between the three of them.

He took a deep breath, praying for some profound insight that
would enable him to turn this around, but Libby beat him to the punch.

“Sam, this is Ms. Farne. She says you’re expecting her. Tanya,
I need you to deliver Sam’s kids to lunch and then meet me in the office.”

Anyone who didn’t know her would see nothing but her smile,
hear nothing but the brisk efficiency in her voice. But Sam heard an iceberg
bigger than the one that had done a number on the
Titanic.

“Give me one second to wrap things up,” he said to the social
worker before grabbing Libby by the arm and pulling her around the corner.

“I can explain everything,” he said.

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“I will. Tonight. Just let me get through this. Let’s get
through the day, and tonight, when we can have more than five minutes without an
interruption, I’ll tell you all of it.”

“Oh, I see. Would that be tonight, when you finally decide to
come clean? Or tonight, after you’ve had a whole day to concoct some story?”

“Libby, no. It’s not anything like you’re thinking.”

“I had no idea that you could read my mind, Sam. Which, come to
think of it, you obviously can’t. Because if you could, you would know that the
only thing I’m thinking about right now is that I have a camp to run. You know.
That camp you were supposed to be looking after until you got too busy with
everything else.”

She turned her back on him and marched up the hill with a
tightness to her step that let him know it might be possible to have messed
things up worse than he already had—but somehow, he doubted it.

* * *

O
NE
HOUR
AFTER
DELIVERING
Sam over to the mysterious woman, Libby
picked up her glass of iced coffee and wondered what would happen if she were to
spike it.

Tanya had shown up as ordered, but—surprise, surprise—refused
to elaborate on anything. When questioned about the scene with Sam, all she
would say was that it was personal.

Libby was so damned tired of having people use that line on
her.

But much as she longed to find an excuse to fire the girl on
the spot, she knew she couldn’t. Tanya’s work with the kids was as fabulous as
ever. And while there were rules in the staff handbook about harassment, it
didn’t appear that Tanya had crossed that line yet, at least not judging by what
she had seen.

All Libby could do was give the girl a severe warning, which
engendered less response than a weather forecast. She sent Tanya on her way and
stared out the window and wondered what the hell she was going to say to Sam
when he showed up.

Because she knew that the moment he disposed of whoever this
woman was, he would be trotting down to the office. He might offer an
explanation. He might invoke the “it’s personal” line.

And she couldn’t say which prospect frightened her more.