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Isabelle leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb and folded her arms across her chest. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the man and his daughter. Just like she couldn’t help wondering where they would all be right now if she had told Wes about Caroline from the beginning. Would he have changed? Would he have wanted the three of them to be a family?
Had she cheated all of them out of what they might have had? God, that was a terrible thought and one that couldn’t do the slightest bit of good. What she had to do now was concentrate on the moment at hand and not get lost in memories or dreams of what if.
Wes had a book on his lap, and while he read the story out loud, he also tried to use sign language. The movements were a little clumsy, and he got quite a few of the hand signs completely wrong. Isabelle noticed Caroline giggling a little when Wes read the word bear and signed something entirely different. But making mistakes wasn’t important. The fact that he was trying, that he was going to the trouble to learn ASL tugged at Isabelle’s heart.
“Wes,” Caro said and signed, “read the one about Christmas.”
He feigned dramatic shock. “Christmas is over.”
“Not next Christmas,” Caro argued, with a little giggle that rippled through Isabelle’s heart.
“Three stories is enough, Caroline,” Isabelle said from the doorway, and the girl and her father both turned to look at her. Two sets of eyes the color of the sea in the Caribbean studied her. She saw Wes in her daughter every day, but seeing the two of them together like this, the resemblance was heartbreaking.
She wasn’t blind here. Not only was Wes enjoying this time with Caroline, but her little girl already adored him. Once she found out Wes was her father, that affection would be sealed forever. And again, Isabelle felt that twinge of guilt for keeping them apart.
“Mommy...” Caro dipped her head, looked up and let her bottom lip jut out just enough for a really good pout.
Isabelle laughed in spite of herself. “Not a chance, kiddo. Now get into bed and I’ll tuck you in.”
Dragging herself to her feet, Caro sighed heavily, turned and crawled under the covers, tugging them up to her chin. “Can Wes tuck me in tonight?”
Wow. Arrow to her heart. Shifting a glance to Wes, she saw the pleasure shining in his eyes, and that actually took a bit of the sting out of Caro’s request. She’d never had to share her daughter with another parent before. The joys, the worries, the sleepless nights had all been for her alone. But standing in the bedroom with Wes, both of them looking at the child they’d created together, Isabelle could almost see what she’d been missing. It was more than sharing the responsibilities. It was sharing those secret looks of pride and understanding when their child did something cute. Or silly. Or tender.
So Isabelle took a step forward, into that joint custody world. Bending down, she gave Caro a kiss and whispered, “Sleep tight. I love you.”
Then she stepped aside and let Wes be the one to smooth the sheet and blanket, to sweep soft, silky hair back off their girl’s forehead. He kissed her cheek and said, “Good night, Caroline.”
“G’night,” she said on a yawn. “Will I see you some more tomorrow?”
Wes straightened up and glanced at Isabelle meaningfully before looking back at his daughter. “You sure will.”
* * *
For the next week, Isabelle felt like a caged tiger in the zoo. Someone was always watching her—and that someone was Wes. Every time she turned around, there he was. At the grocery store. At Caro’s school—where he’d charmed the little girl’s teacher until the woman was practically a puddle of goo in front of him.
He showed up at her house nearly every evening, bringing dinner with him—which endeared him to Edna, who enjoyed the time off from cooking. He helped Marco pull a tree stump from the backyard, and now Isabelle had to listen to Marco’s glowing remarks about a “city man” who knew how to put in a real day’s work.
But the worst, she thought, as she pulled into the school parking lot, was Caro herself. The little girl was completely in love with her father.
Wes had plenty of charm when he wanted to use it, as Belle was in a position to know. But she’d never really stood back and watched as he made a conquest. The women in town, Edna, they were one thing, but seeing Caro respond to her father’s determination to win her over had been both touching and worrisome. The harder Caro fell for Wes, the easier it would be for him to eventually break the girl’s heart. Though to be honest, she hadn’t really seen any sign of Wes pulling away. Instead, he seemed focused on being an integral part of Caro’s life.
And all of it worried Isabelle. Sooner or later, he would return to Texas. What then? Would he want to take Caroline back with him? Would they end up in a bitter custody fight after all? Or would he have his fill of playing daddy and just leave—breaking Caroline’s heart? Even a best-case scenario was filled with possible misery. Say she and Wes worked it out together and he didn’t get tired of being a father? Wouldn’t he want Caro with him in Texas for at least part of the year?
Isabelle’s head hurt, and she didn’t see any relief in her near future. So she pushed all of those thoughts out of her mind and tried instead to focus on her work.
She went over the last of her digital drawings, adding a touch of color here, smoothing a sharp line there, until she was completely satisfied. Well, completely was a stretch. She was never truly satisfied with her work, and invariably, once she’d sent the drawings off, she would think of dozens of things she could have done differently.
But the most important thing here was getting her latest designs to the manufacturer who could get started on production. Isabelle sent off a quick email, attaching the designs, and then shifted her attention to the paperwork that had been mounting over the last few days.
“You work from home?”
Isabelle jolted in her chair, glanced at the open doorway to her home office and slapped one hand to her chest when she saw Wes standing there. “How did you get in?”
“Edna let me in. Told me you were up here.”
Traitor, Isabelle thought. Her housekeeper was clearly indulging her inner matchmaker. Too bad the woman didn’t know that Wes wasn’t interested in a match of any kind. Isabelle’s heart ached a little at that internal reminder. It would be so much easier for her if she could just get past the feelings for him that kept resurfacing.
He strolled into the room, hands in his pockets, and wandered the perimeter, invading her space, looking at everything. She bit her tongue, because telling him to get out of her office would only make him that much more determined to look around. He took long, slow strides, moving with a sort of stealthy grace that made her insides quiver completely against her will.
