Page 50 of Single Chance

None of it could distract me.

As hard as I tried to stay put, I popped up seconds later, paced up the two stairs to the kitchen level, trooped through my office, and peered out the blinds.

And there she was, pulling into the driveway.

I headed to the garage and hit the opener. Her arrival would be less public if she parked in the garage, but I reminded myself we weren’t going for private. She was moving in. It would not be a secret.

Her pregnancy… That was a different story for now. We hoped to controlwhenthat secret came out.

As Rowan killed the engine, I walked to the driver’s side door.

“Welcome,” I said when she opened it. I didn’t have to fake my smile at the sight of her.

She looked harried but beautiful in her lavender puffer coat, her chestnut hair tousled beneath her gray stocking cap with a big, furry ball at the tip. Her cheeks were pink, her brown eyes tired but pretty as she climbed out.

“Thank you.”

I glanced at her backseat, expecting it to be overflowing with her belongings. There was a box, some pillows, and an overstuffed bag.

“That’s not very much stuff,” I said.

“The trunk’s pretty full.”

The trunk wouldn’t hold a lot, but then she’d warned me she wouldn’t take up much room in my house.

I opened the back door, prepared to carry her things inside, but Rowan stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“I want to meet Sam first,” she said.

“You can absolutely meet her. We might as well take a load in while we go.”

She squeezed my arm again and shook her head. “Not yet. Please?”

Confused, I tried to read her expression. She bit her lower lip and glanced toward the house.

“Sam first,” she said. “Empty-handed. I’d rather not look like I’m here to invade her territory by lugging my crap in.”

I straightened and studied her.

“I don’t want to put her on the defensive,” she continued. “This is her home. She’s yourdaughter, Chance. This first meeting is important.”

She was right, and I hadn’t thought of any of that.

I nodded, feeling like the worst dad ever. I’d been uptight about Rowan arriving, about her meeting my daughter, and still, I hadn’t come up with ways to make it easier for Sam.

My appreciation for this woman grew every day. Surface things had drawn me to her on New Year’s Eve—her looks, an expression in her eyes, her smile—but the deeper I got to know her, the more I liked her.

I was awed by her determination to be independent and to get back on her feet after what she’d been through with her grandmother. She’d jumped into a job where she had no relevant experience and, from what I’d seen so far, learned fast, figured out a lot on her own, and asked questions when she needed to. She was easy to get along with, likable, and now she was determined to win my daughter over.

Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I walked beside her through the garage, my hand on her waist without thinking about it.

Once in the kitchen, I glanced at the door to the basement and felt like I needed to warn Rowan.

“Sam might not be friendly,” I said in a low voice. “I’ll apologize in advance in case she’s rude. I didn’t raise her to be rude but?—”

“She’s fourteen. I understand. I’m the intruder here, Chance. And I’m a big girl. I can handle a little teenage rejection.” She smiled, but I could see through it to her nervousness.

I took her hand and squeezed it. “Here goes nothing.”

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