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
“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
