“For an architect, you make a pretty good shark.” Hadley leaned against the front porch rail.

David blew on his nails, pretended to polish them against his shirtfront. “It’s a special talent, honed over numerous trips to the beach.”

“The girls sure loved it.” While Hadley relaxed in the sun, she’d watched the “shark” go under the water time and time again to grab Brynn’s and Lia’s legs. “Between that and the sand castle, they had a perfectly lovely afternoon.”

“I can’t recall the last time I heard Brynn laugh so much.” A soft look filled David’s eyes. “Seeing her happy means the world to me. With everything she’s been through…”

Hadley placed a hand on his arm. “She’s resilient. Brynn will be just fine.”

His gaze met hers. “Your being here has helped.”

Just hearing that, having him say it, had tears pushing against the backs of her lids. Blinking rapidly, she turned away, sliding her hand along the railing. “Do you think if I’d promised her a Monopoly marathon, Brynn would have come home with us?”

“Not a chance.”

Hadley whirled. “But she loves board games.”

“The puppet theater Lia got for her birthday is set up now. Brynn was dying to see it.” David lifted his hands, let them drop. “She likes playing with her friends.”

Expelling a resigned breath, Hadley climbed the steps. When she reached the porch, instead of heading directly inside, Hadley turned and rested her back against the rail. “You probably think I’m being ridiculous.”

“Not at all.” Understanding filled David’s eyes. “You’re simply going through what I did a couple of years ago. Being home with me and Camille had always been enough for Brynn. All of a sudden, she wanted friends over. Or, like what happened today, those friends’ parents invited her over.”

“Darn Lia’s mother,” Hadley muttered, only half joking.

“When I complained, my mother told me to remember it’s good for Brynn to play with kids outside of school.” David joined her at the rail. “Being reminded these socializing activities are good for her made her absence easier to accept.”

“I know you’re right.” Hadley sighed. “Children learn and grow by being with other kids. As an only child, I spent most of my time with the kids in the neighborhood.”

“Me, too.”

Her surprise must have shown.

“While I wasn’t an only child like you, my sister and brother were a number of years younger, and we didn’t have much in common. Of course, that’s changed now that we’re adults.”

“Okay.” Hadley expelled a melodramatic sigh. “You’ve convinced me. I’m not going to ruin what has been a wonderful day by whining.”

The smile he shot her sent a flood of warmth rushing through her veins.

“Andrea and Jim are good parents,” he assured her. “We can trust them.”

We.

It was the first time David had ever referred to the two of them as a unit, at least as far as Brynn was concerned. Though pleasure surged, Hadley told herself it likely was a simple slip of the tongue.

She glanced at the darkening sky. “Is rain in the forecast today?”

“Last I knew it was a twenty percent chance.” He stood beside her and studied the clouds. “Weatherman David Chapin says it appears closer to one hundred percent.”

Big fat drops splatted on the walkway and the steps to the porch. The rising wind carried the rain to where David and Hadley stood.

“Time to head inside.” She backed away from the rail.

“Agreed.” David had the door unlocked and open in seconds.

“Just in time.” Hadley tried not to shiver as a gust of wind rattled the windows.

They stood for several seconds, watching as the wind did its best to bend the trees. The droplets now fell in sheets.

“How ‘bout I rustle us up some food?”

Those intense gray eyes boring into her made rational thought difficult. But he wasn’t asking her to strip naked, Hadley reminded herself. He was just offering food and, perhaps, conversation. “Sounds good.”

The smile he flashed had her feeling even more off-balance. “I’ll start dinner.”

They actually started with showers—taken separately—to wash off the sand, then met up in the kitchen.

They made the meal together. Nothing fancy, just thick beer bread and homemade vegetable soup his mother had dropped off yesterday.

At the beach, summer had reigned supreme. Now the rain and drop in temperature made it feel like fall was knocking at the door.

Once they’d finished eating, they moved into the living room with glasses of wine. Hadley dropped down onto the overstuffed sofa facing the cold fireplace.

To her surprise, instead of choosing one of the chairs, David sat on the sofa. Not right beside her. A couple of bodies could have easily fit between them. But something about sharing the piece of furniture felt…intimate. Dismissing the feeling as ridiculous, Hadley angled to face him when he spoke.

“Camille called just as I got out of the shower.” David took a long drink of wine.

Inclining her head, Hadley studied him. “What did she want?”

“She feels badly about leaving Brynn so abruptly. She wants to stop over sometime this week and say a proper good-bye.”

Hadley gazed at him over the rim of her glass. “What did you say?”

“I told her I’ll look at the schedule, call her back tomorrow.” He shrugged. “I’ll see what we can work out.”

“How do you think Brynn will react to her visit?” Hadley’s heartbeat quickened. “Camille has been like a mother to her.”

David’s brows pulled together, and he slowly shook his head. “Brynn is fond of Camille. But saying she’s been like a mother is a stretch. Whitney made sure she and Brynn never got too close.”

“Was Whitney jealous?”

Hadley took his careless shrug to mean she should draw her own conclusions. They weren’t difficult to draw.

Even though Whitney had often been absent, she hadn’t wanted her daughter to form a bond with anyone else. Hadley was glad the woman lived out of state, fiercely glad she was no longer a big part of Brynn’s life.

“How could she do that to her child?” Condemnation rang heavy in Hadley’s voice. “She didn’t want Brynn, but she didn’t want her to love anyone else.”

“It’s easy to judge Whitney harshly.” David’s eyes were hooded now, giving no secrets away. “Things are rarely as black-and-white as they appear. Whitney never objected to my mother and Greer being a part of Brynn’s life. But Camille wasn’t family and could leave at any time. Which she did.”

How could he be so gracious, Hadley wondered. Or did he still have a thing for his ex? The thought brought a swift stab of pain.

“I suppose.” It was the best Hadley could come up with at the moment.

She must not have sounded very convincing, because David’s lips twitched.

“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The twitch became a full-out grin. “You have a mama bear look in your eyes.”

“I don’t want to see Brynn hurt.” Hadley expelled a ragged breath. “Not more than she already has been.”

She started when she felt David’s hand cover hers.

“Believe me, I understand. I feel the same.”

Hadley met his gaze, and something fluttered in her belly. She remembered the kiss and the desire that had filled her. Getting involved sexually with David would be foolish.

Worse, her actions could end up hurting Brynn.

That was something she was determined not to do.

* * *

David saw Hadley’s guard go up, even before she slipped her hand away. As disappointment surged, he told himself she was being smart.

He was playing with fire. “With Brynn at Lia’s, this is our opportunity to become better acquainted.”

Though he and Hadley had spent numerous hours together, much of that time had been in the company of other people. He’d seen how Hadley related to others and his daughter, but there was still so much about her he didn’t know.

“I suppose you’re right.” She gazed up at him, her expression unreadable. “Do you want to talk?”

“Talking is good.” David’s gaze fell on the deck of cards Kyle had shoved at him the last time he’d seen him. Eliza’s new husband had instructed that once he and Hadley used them, David should pass them along to another couple. Relationship cards was what Kyle had called them. “These are cards with questions. We could answer a few.”

A dimple he hadn’t known she possessed flashed in Hadley’s left cheek. “I’ve heard about those cards.”

Puzzled, he tilted his head. “What have you heard?”

“They’re lethal.”

“They’re just cards.” He flipped the deck over in his hands. “With questions on them.”

A blond brow arched. “Have you read any of the questions?”

“Forget the cards. It was just a thought.” David started to place the deck back on the end table.

Her hand on his arm stopped him. “From what I understand, you have to answer at least three of the questions before you can pass on the deck.”

“Seriously?” He scoffed at the idea of being required to do anything related to a game. “Who says we have to follow the rules?”

“Good point.” Hadley’s teeth caught her lower lip for a moment before she gave a dismissive wave. “I’ve been listening too much to Ami’s sisters.”

“I got these from Kyle,” he pointed out.

“One of them must have passed the deck on to him. Or to Eliza.”

David sat back in his seat, considered. “If they played along, maybe we should, too.”

His gaze settled on Hadley as he left the final decision up to her. “What do you think?”

“Lethal.”

“Is that a no?”

Her lips curved. “I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.”

There it was again, that tell-it-like-it-is spirit he admired. With Hadley, what you saw was what you got. There would be no surprises.

“How bad could answering three questions be?”

Her blue eyes twinkled. “Exactly.”

David found himself looking forward to the game. “If these are as lethal as you say, we’ll need another glass of wine.”

“We might need a bottle.”

As David headed to the kitchen, his steps were light. He didn’t care what the Bloom sisters had told Hadley.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

Hadley took a sip of her second glass of pinot while David shuffled the cards. He had big hands. Not the kind that would hurt a woman or child, but ones made to soothe. To caress.

God, she hoped these questions didn’t deal with sex. She was already having difficulty keeping her mind off of David’s mouth. She kept imagining the pleasure his lips could give. Not only when melded against hers, but when pressed against other parts of her body.

Heat traveled up her neck.

“Cut?”

She blinked. “What?”

He grinned and held out the cards. “Do you want to cut the deck?”

Not trusting her voice, she gave her head a shake.

“How do you want to play this?”

She cleared her throat. “What do you mean?”

“Should we each answer the same question? Or only answer the one we draw?”

There was no right or wrong answer. “It seems to me we should answer the same questions.”

“We’ll draw three.”

“And we’ll take turns going first,” Hadley added.

He cocked his head, frowned. “That means one of us will go first twice.”

“With an odd number of questions, there’s no way around it,” she pointed out.

“We could do four.”

“Let’s see how we feel after we get through three.” She studied him for a moment, then smiled. “We’ll do rock, paper, scissors. The loser goes first twice.”

David hesitated. “Doesn’t it seem rather juvenile to decide the rotation based on that?”

“Maybe I’m a kid at heart.” Her teasing had a smile blossoming on his lips. “We need to make this fun.”

She had the feeling it was past time David had fun.

Hadley won the rock, paper, scissors challenge. It was obvious David didn’t play that game often. Rookie male players usually went with rock. That’s why she’d chosen paper.

“Appears I’m on the hot seat.” A smile hovered at the corners of David’s lips. “But your turn is coming.”

Hadley simply smiled, filing away the knowledge that David wasn’t a sore loser.

He surprised her by taking a card from the top of the deck, instead of delving into the center. He flipped the card over, read it, scowled. “This is unfair.”

Puzzled, Hadley leaned over, bringing her dangerously close to him. She didn’t recognize his cologne. Whatever it was, she liked it. The fresh citrus scent did strange things to her insides.

She forced herself to read the question. When you were growing up, did you have any favorite family traditions? Do you have any now?

Hadley met his gaze. “What’s wrong? The questions seem fairly straightforward.”

David pointed to the card. “What’s wrong is there are two of them.”

“You picked it.” She leaned back. If she didn’t put distance between them, she might kiss him. God, he smelled good. “I’m sure your family has plenty of traditions.”

As if realizing this was a battle he couldn’t hope to win, David took a contemplative sip of wine.

It should have been a simple matter for him to pop off an answer. Easy, because she’d meant what she said about his family having lots of traditions. Instead, he took his time and considered his choices.

So methodical. So cautious.

“Probably my favorite tradition, and you’re right about there being many in the Chapin household, occurred on Christmas morning.” His lips curved, and the warmth of remembrance filled his eyes. “Long after we quit believing in Santa Claus, we’d hurry downstairs to open gifts. Hot chocolate with whipped cream and slivers of candy canes would be waiting. A ring of kringle, fresh from the oven, filled the air with the scent of cinnamon, vanilla and yeast.”

After recently visiting his family home, Hadley had little difficulty seeing it. The scene he described sounded like something straight out of a Hallmark movie. A flood of longing gripped her.

She cleared her throat. “Please tell me you’ve kept up that tradition for Brynn.”

That type of heartwarming holiday scene was something Hadley had always wanted for herself, something she’d wanted for her children.

David hesitated. “The cocoa comes out of the microwave, and the kringle comes from Ami’s shop rather than fresh from the oven, but yes, I’ve kept those traditions for Brynn.”

“I bake kringle for Blooms Bake Shop.” Hadley couldn’t keep the wonder from her voice.

“You’ve been a part of Brynn’s Christmas and you didn’t even know it.” He touched her arm. “Your turn.”

She blinked.

He flashed a smile. “Your turn to answer.”

Hadley shifted. Instead of letting herself get caught up in his traditions, she should have been searching for one of her own.

“My father usually worked holidays.” She kept her tone matter-of-fact. “Extra money was always needed.”

David didn’t bother to hide his surprise. Or his disapproval. “Even Christmas?”

She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “The year my mom left, it was shortly before the holidays. The November through New Year’s Day time period was difficult for him.”

Opening his mouth as if to argue the point, David shut it without speaking.

“If we’re talking traditions, I’ll go with the first day of school.” Hadley smiled. “My dad would stay up—he worked nights—and we’d go to a diner close to our apartment and have breakfast. Then he’d drop me off at school.”

“Any special things you’d eat?” David prompted.

She shook her head. “Not for me, anyway. It was just nice to sit at a table with him and talk.”

“Didn’t you do that every night?”

Hadley gave a little laugh. “We mostly ate at the counter or in front of the television.”

Though David kept his face impassive, disapproval radiated off him in waves.

“It might not have been ideal, but Dad did his best.” She lifted her chin. “But I think that’s why I enjoy making a meal and sitting down to eat it.”

“It’s a two-part question.”

“Kringle. For years, I’ve baked it on Christmas morning.” Hadley saw no reason to add that she enjoyed that particular tradition alone. “Next.”

Once again, David picked the top card.

“You know you don’t always have to pick from the top. There are a bunch of other ones in the middle.”

Her teasing tone didn’t appear to faze him. He flipped over the card, then exhaled a heavy breath.

Hadley smiled at his pained expression. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad.”

When he didn’t respond, she lifted the card from his fingers. Do you blame yourself when a relationship fails?

She glanced up at David, her eyes meeting his. “This is pretty heavy. We can skip it. Just draw another.”

“No.” He gulped down the rest of the wine in his glass. “I drew it. I’ll answer it.”

Which meant he likely wouldn’t be handing out passes when it was her turn to answer.

“First, I need to clarify that I haven’t been involved in many ‘relationships.’ I dated in high school, but no one seriously. That was true for my first couple years in college. Then I met Whitney. She was my first serious relationship.” His eyes grew shuttered. “A relationship that led to marriage, then ended in divorce.”

Why did it seem worse, Hadley wondered, that Whitney had obviously been his first love? Out of all the girls in high school and women in college he’d date, Whitney had been the one he’d fallen in love with and married.

Hadley remained silent.

After what seemed an eternity, David continued. “Do I blame myself for our marriage failing? I take responsibility for bringing Whitney to Good Hope. I brought her here, even though deep down I wondered if small-town life would be a good fit.”

“Did you force her to move here?” The question seemed to come from far away, even though Hadley knew it had originated from her own lips.

“Of course not. I’d never do that.” David set down his empty wineglass and raked a hand through his hair. “Whitney was excited about building a new house. But—”

“But…” she pressed when he didn’t continue.

“She quickly lost interest.” Though David tried to hide the emotion, hurt deepened his dove-gray eyes to slate. “I tried to involve her in the house plans. I wanted her involved, but she told me she trusted my decisions. That should have been a red flag. She didn’t care enough to provide input.”

He pushed to his feet and strode to the window. “Perhaps if we’d stayed in Chicago, we might still be married.”

“At what cost?”

He whirled, his gaze piercing.

Hadley slowly got to her feet. “At what cost to you and Brynn? I don’t presume to be an expert on your marriage. From the little I observed, Whitney didn’t want to be married and she certainly wasn’t interested in Brynn.”

“You don’t know—”

“I saw enough.” Hadley refused to let him play the martyr. “She checked out of your marriage long before she left you.”

“These cards are a lot of fun.”

His dry tone had her nearly smiling, until he gestured with his head toward the question on the card.

Only then did Hadley realize he was telling her he’d answered and it was now her turn.

“Do you blame yourself when a relationship fails?” His assessing gaze never left her face.

“Yes.” Hadley spoke without thinking, which was never a good thing. “But not in the way you think.”

He returned to the sofa, and she dropped down beside him.

“I blame myself for getting into a bad situation in the first place. For failing to see what was right in front of me.” A bitterness filled her tone that she couldn’t suppress. “I pride myself on being a smart, savvy woman, yet I make huge errors in judgment.”

David’s expression sharpened, those gray eyes like finely honed swords. Instead of speaking, he simply nodded and waited for her to continue.

Hadley clasped her hands together in her lap and did her best to focus on the question. “I won’t take the blame when the other party is clearly a screw-up, but I will take responsibility for not heeding warning signs flashing in yellow neon.”

“Someone hurt you.” The softly spoken words and concerned expression were bad enough. When David reached over and covered her hands with his, Hadley wanted to weep.

Calling on her inner strength, she managed a shrug.

“You loved him.”

“What?” Hadley shook her head. “No. No. No. I never loved him.”

The vehemence in her tone had David’s eyes widening.

With great effort, Hadley brought herself under control. If she didn’t, this discussion could lead to revelations she wasn’t prepared to make. “Let’s leave it that I take the blame for not seeing what was right in front of my eyes.”

“What did—?”

“My turn to draw.” Hadley cut him off, ready to move on. More than ready to push all thoughts of Justin Mapes from her mind.

David held the cards she attempted to grab. “Technically, I’ve only drawn two cards.” He tried to hide an emerging grin. “Who knew you were so eager to answer?”

“Yes, but as you pointed out, the first card had two questions. Give me those cards.” Her brusque order only caused his smile to widen. After a second, he handed her the deck.

She shuffled.

He declined to cut.

Hadley picked a card from deep in the deck and read the question.

“Is it another twofer?” David studied her with an intensity that had her squirming.

“Nope.” She kept her voice offhand. “Just one. An easy question.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Who ever said life was fair?” She’d meant the words to be teasing, lighthearted even. She was halfway through uttering them when an image of Justin flashed before her.

“Hadley?”

Something in the way David said her name, something about the way it rolled off his tongue, had her relaxing.

She held the card high and read aloud, a freshly filled glass of wine in the other hand. “Are you into public displays of affection?”

“That’s the question? That one doesn’t even require any thought.”

“Don’t blame me for drawing an easy one.” She waved an airy hand. “You’re the one who kept picking the top card instead of going for the middle.”

“Since you consider it easy, you must have an answer.”

“I don’t mind displays of affection as long as they’re tasteful. Holding hands, an arm around the shoulders, even a kiss now and then, those are okay with me.” Hadley remembered how good it felt when David touched her. Then she thought of Justin, and her blood went to ice. “When it’s someone you like.”

His gaze searched hers. “Are you saying you don’t mind when I take your hand?”

“I’m saying I like it when you touch me.”

The bold declaration surprised them both. Heat flashed like a lightning bolt in David’s smoky gray depths. “That goes for me, too.”

Hadley resisted the urge to fan herself. “It appears mutual attraction has been confirmed.”

David took her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. “The question now is, what are we going to do about it?”