Page 16 of Tell Me Again
Whatever.
He hated that word. But there was no time to argue. The door to the cabin opened and Sam walked out, her giant beast of a dog at her side. She wore a pair of faded jeans and a loose white T-shirt, her hair pulled back into another messy ponytail. It was hard to tell from here, but he guessed she was once again makeup-free. Trevor’s chest tightened as she greeted his daughter. Both of them looked awkward and uncomfortable and so damn similar it made his skin itch.
In the past few days, Grace had developed a new, obsessive interest in fashion and the modeling world. She’d begged for magazine subscriptions and headshots and would he contact this modeling agency in Denver? Trevor had enough worries as a parent without adding a potential career fraught with issues ranging from distorted body image to drugs to eating disorders. How the hell was he supposed to keep her safe if she was part of that crazy world?
He understood Sam was mostly retired, but she still had contacts and a reputation as one of the most successful, sought-after models in recent history. Add the fact that Grace was quickly becoming her doppelgänger, and he knew Sam could open doors with one quick phone call. Doors he wanted to remain tightly shut.
Everything in his life felt like a minefield—one false step, and he’d be blown into next week. He took a little comfort in the fact that neither Sam nor Grace seemed to know what to do now that they were together. Sam bent and ruffled the dog’s fur and then tucked a piece of stray hair behind her ear. It was a nervous gesture he recognized from years ago.
Yes, he thought selfishly, let this be awkward. Maybe Grace would see that it was a mistake. Maybe she would walk back to the truck and they could drive away and pretend this can of worms had never been opened. He’d find Sam another contractor, pay triple out of his own pocket if it meant he didn’t have to see her again. If he could ignore the tug of attraction he still felt for her, pretend that he didn’t want to pull her into his arms and press his mouth to hers. Set aside the need and want that had been burning a hole in his gut since he’d walked into her house last Friday night.
But when Grace glanced over her shoulder at him, the look in her gaze made every selfish thought disappear. It was the same look she gave him the first day of kindergarten and the morning she got on the bus to sleepaway camp when she was eleven. His daughter needed him. She wanted a relationship with Sam, and she needed Trevor to help her make it work. He couldn’t disregard that silent plea.
And he didn’t want to. It had been a long time since his girl had needed him for anything more than groceries, money for clothes, and as her designated chauffeur. If Sam Carlton was the price he had to pay for a renewed connection with Grace, he’d ante up.
As soon as he slammed the driver’s side door shut, the dog’s ears pricked and he loped over to greet Trevor with a snout shoved to the crotch.
“You gonna buy me dinner, bud?” he asked, pushing away the dog’s wet nose.
“Frank, off,” Sam called and when Trevor looked up she was grinning at him. The dog gave him one last nudge then turned to walk with him up the path.
Christ, her smile almost brought him to his knees. It wasn’t the smile from magazine layouts and perfume commercials. It was genuine enough to make his heart race.
He didn’t show it, though. If he was good at anything, Trevor knew he had a hell of a poker face. Instead he patted the dog’s enormous head and gestured to the main cabin. “This is a gorgeous place to come for summer camp, huh, Gracie?”
His daughter gave a short nod. “It’s named after my mom,” she muttered, glancing at Sam through her ridiculously long eyelashes.
Sam smiled but it was filled with heartache. “I wish I would have done more to help your mother—my sister—when she needed it. I founded Bryce Hollow as a way to help kids who’ve been in trouble get their lives back on track.”
“Did you call it hollow because that’s how you feel inside?” Grace was looking fully at Sam now.
Trevor inwardly cringed. Here was the daughter he knew and loved. The one who didn’t hold back. He expected Sam to be horrified, but he should have known better. If he predicted one reaction from Samantha Carlton, she could be counted on to do the exact opposite.
She let out a hoot of laughter. It had been years since he’d heard her distinctive belly laugh, but he’d never forgotten it.
“In my five years of running this camp,” she told Grace, pushing away the hair from his daughter’s face, “no one has ever asked me that question. You’re a smart one, Grace Kincaid.” Her expression turned serious. “I’m not sure if that’s why I chose the name, but I did feel hollow after your mother died. There was a special bond between us. Even when we were so angry we couldn’t stand to speak to each other, I still loved her. She was a part of me.” Her gaze was tender and open. Sam had never been comfortable showing her vulnerable underbelly, so the fact that she was offering this part of herself so willingly to Grace meant something.
“Do you think she was sick?” Grace asked, shooting a look at Trevor.
Trevor held his breath, waiting to see what she would answer.
Sam’s gaze never left his daughter. “Yes,” she answered after a moment. “Your mother was sick, but that had nothing to do with you.” She glanced at Trevor then back to Grace. “You’re lucky to have such a great dad. You know that, right?”
Grace chewed on her bottom lip. That couldn’t have been the answer she expected, because it surprised the hell out of Trevor.
“He should have told me about you.”
“Your father was doing what he thought was right. It’s his job to protect you, Grace. My mother was a real piece of work, and I didn’t know my dad. I never had anyone to look out for me.”
Me, Trevor wanted to shout. You had me. I wanted to protect you. To take care of you. To love you.
But he kept his mouth shut because he’d let her walk away, so what right did he have to make any claim on her now?
“He’s a good dad,” Grace mumbled with an understated eye roll. She had a whole language of eye rolls. “Even if he—”
“Is a stick in the mud?” Sam asked with an arched brow.
Grace smiled and shook her head.
