Bonnie Winn - Substitute Father

“Granted. But Kealey didn’t want me to get to know her. She was equally relieved to have the date end.”

“That’s not exactly a glowing review of you, either!” Rachel reminded him.

“So it’s not.” Luke hesitated. “Do you think she’ll hold it against me?”

“You’d better hope not. For the children’s sake.”

Luke glanced back toward the living room. In a matter of hours he’d turned his life upside down. And now the fate of three innocent children depended on whether he could change his tone with Kealey Fitzpatrick.

He shook his head, knowing he had a better chance of getting rid of his older sisters before they drove him crazy. And from the increasing noise level in the other room, that, too, would be damn near impossible.

KEALEY FITZPATRICK hitched up the strap of her shoulder bag. After rechecking her skirt, she made certain her jacket was straight, then smoothed her hair. It was ridiculous to be nervous, she knew. After all, this was just another case, another group of children who would probably be inducted into the foster care system. Then why had she been unable to sleep the previous night, caught up in thoughts of Luke Duncan?

In fact, when their supervisor had assigned her to the case, Kealey had immediately questioned Rachel. Although Rachel denied having anything to do with their supervisor’s decision, Kealey was skeptical. Rachel had always been disappointed that her matchmaking efforts between her brother and Kealey had failed. Somehow she had thought that complete opposites should attract.

But that only happened in the movies. Despite her nerves, Kealey smiled. That was her solitary, secret vice—beautiful, romantic movies, especially those from the black-and-white era. Funny. Color, much like real life, intruded into the fantasy.

Climbing the steps on Luke Duncan’s porch, Kealey adjusted her purse strap yet again and rang the bell. After considerable time had passed, she pushed the button again.

However, when the door was suddenly yanked open with more force than she expected, Kealey nearly toppled backward.

Luke Duncan stared for a moment. Then to her surprise, he rearranged his expression into a more pleasant one. “Morning, Kealey. Won’t you come in?”

Nodding, she stepped inside.

Since he still looked distracted, she managed a small smile. “Is everything all right?”

He shrugged. “Just a little debate about clothes.”

Kealey glanced at his casual jeans and T-shirt in question.

Luke’s expression grew a bit exasperated. Then his face cleared as he managed a faint chuckle. Stepping aside, he revealed Troy who was clad in a striped purple-and-green shirt paired with red-and-yellow plaid pants.

But Kealey didn’t respond as he expected. Instead, her face brightened as she walked up to the youngster. “Looking good, Troy.”

He grinned. “Thanks!”

She smiled as well. “Do you remember me from last night?”

He nodded. “Uh-huh. Are you Luke’s girlfriend?”

Taken aback, she cleared her throat. “I’m with the county Department of Social Services. We make sure children are well cared for.”

Troy shrugged skinny shoulders. “Luke’s taking care of us okay. We don’t need nobody else.”

Her gaze flew to meet Luke’s.

But he didn’t qualify Troy’s comment. “How about some coffee?”

“This is a professional call, not social.”

“Don’t professionals drink coffee?” Luke asked with ease, his lips curling upward.

Kealey felt herself tighten and wished she had the ability to relax, to take life as easily as most other people did. “Well yes, but—”

“Come on into the kitchen.” Luke took her elbow, eliminating her need for a response. “Coffee’s fresh and strong.”

“Did you have trouble getting the children to bed?” she asked, accepting the mug he offered, dragging her gaze from the appeal of his dark, sleep-tossed hair and handsome features.

“Nope. They were so tired they could have slept on rocks. Not that they had to,” he hastened to explain. “As you saw last night, my family brought over some beds.”

Kealey thought of Rachel’s fuzzy family stories, how she’d deliberately ignored them. “That was generous of them.”

“I asked for pajamas and got the complete setup for three. Beds, clothes, toys, you name it, they brought it over. Of course, along with the help comes the advice.” He pinned her with an even stare. “And I’m not really in the market for advice.”

Kealey stiffened. “Despite what you may think, I take my job very seriously—”

“I never doubted it.”

“And as such, I’m responsible for the children’s welfare. That means their care and how it’s administered.”

Luke met her eyes and for a moment she thought he would protest. Instead, he shrugged. “Then you’d better check out what they’re eating for breakfast.”

Momentarily distracted, she glanced around the tidy, if masculine kitchen. While the house didn’t resemble the sleek contemporary interiors of many bachelor pads, it was clear its resident was all male. No fussy curtains draped the large bay window or the long, tall glass panes over the aged copper sink.

Also evident were the clean lines of the mission table that dominated the center of the farm-style kitchen. It, too, was unsoftened by fabric covering. Nonetheless, the room was incredibly inviting. Perhaps it was all the bright sunshine or the spacious dimensions. She glanced away from Luke’s searching gaze. She supposed it might have something to do with the house’s owner.

Hearing the other two children approaching, she glanced toward the doorway. Brian held his younger sister’s hand. Even though it was apparent he took a protective role in regard to his younger siblings, she could see the fear disguised beneath a cultivated layer of bravado. And she was an expert at recognizing that particular fear.

“Hello,” she greeted them. “Do you remember me from last night?”

Brian nodded warily. “Yeah.”

“I’m here to see how you’re doing.”

Both children stared at her suspiciously. Then Luke turned away from the stove, his attention focused on her as well.

“I’m with the Department of Social Services,” she explained.

Dead silence greeted her words. The only betraying action was the flexing of Brian’s hand as he clutched Hannah’s more firmly.

Luke filled the gap. “We’re having scrambled eggs, guys. Everybody take a seat and we’ll start with some milk.”

Although Brian entered the room, his distrustful gaze remained on Kealey. Casually she glanced at the half glass Dutch door at the rear of the kitchen, wondering if the boy was calculating an escape plan. Also wondering how she was going to connect with this one.

“Brian, you take charge of the toast,” Luke told him. “Bread and butter’s on the counter. I’ve made six pieces, we’ll need four more. Hannah, see if you can find some jelly in the fridge.”

Reluctantly the children parted to obey him. Troy was distributing plates and silverware rather unevenly on the table. As he did, Luke handed him one more plate, then placed a platter of bacon in the center of the table, not commenting on the unorthodox place settings. She made a mental note, knowing most adults automatically corrected such oversights, unconsciously chipping away at the child’s self-esteem.

Absently counting the plates, she was surprised to see five. “Are you expecting company?”

“I wasn’t exactly expecting you,” Luke replied.

“Oh, but I’m not here to eat breakfast.”

“You’re here. It’s breakfast time. Don’t fight the inevitable.”

She curled her fingers a bit more tightly around the mug as her discomfort rose. Then she glanced at the children who had stopped what they were doing to stare at her.