Chapter 5
A mostly private pool was a new treat for Andie and one she could get used to fast. Clay had given her a key to the wrought-iron gate he’d installed to keep Payton safe.
Hot sun, cool water, a padded lounge chair that was more comfortable than most of the beds she’d slept in, and a pile of new books. Life didn’t get much better than this.
Andie lay on her stomach with a biography of a local zoologist and founder of Turtle Town, a rescue center for endangered sea turtles at the north end of town.
Not something that would’ve caught her attention necessarily, but the bookstore owner had recommended it and had gone on about the turtle project.
Three chapters in and Andie was hooked and determined to visit the turtles.
The gate to her left creaked and she saw Payton out of the corner of her eye, realizing she must not have gotten it locked after she’d come in. She waited to see what the girl would do.
“Hi, Miss Andie.”
“Hey, kiddo.” Andie used the store receipt as a bookmark and put the book down. “What’s up?” Payton looked to the sky and shrugged, making Andie laugh.
“What are you doing?” Payton asked.
“Reading about the Turtle Lady.”
“Turtle Lady?”
Andie nodded. The turtle rescue center would be a great place for Clay to take his daughter. “She started a reserve called Turtle Town here on the island.”
“What’s Turtle Town?”
“It’s where they rescue sick sea turtles and try to heal them. You can go and look at the big turtles.”
“How big?”
“As big as you,” Andie said, grinning until she saw the child’s frown. “But they’re nice turtles. In big tanks. They can’t get out, but you can watch them swim.”
“Do we hafta?”
“You don’t have to. Only if you want to. And if your daddy will take you.”
“Why do you have all those butterflies on your back?” Payton asked, moving to the side of her chair.
“It’s a tattoo.”
Tattoos, actually. What had started as a single butterfly on her shoulder blade had grown into a flock. Each time Andie visited her cousin Jonas in Illinois, she had his tattoo artist friend add to it.
“My daddy and Mr. Evan and Mr. Derek have tattubes but not a butterfly.” Payton stared at Andie’s upper arm. The tattoo covered a fourth of her back, swirled up to her shoulder and down a couple inches on her arm. “I like butterflies.”
“Me too. You know why?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Not only are they really pretty but they’re free to fly wherever they want.”
Payton studied her thoughtfully. “Yeah.”
“That’s why I got one on my back.”
“Can I get one on my back?”
“Not till you’re a grown-up. Tattoos hurt.”
Payton considered what she said, then shook her head. “I don’t want a tattube.”
“Then you never have to get one,” Andie said, chuckling at Payton’s sound logic.
“I have a butterfly book,” Payton said, abandoning her serious tone of five seconds ago. “Wanna see it?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll go get it.”
“I’ll be here.”
Clay stepped back out of sight on the middle landing of the outdoor stairway, where he’d been watching Payton and Andie. He couldn’t get over how open and easygoing his hard-edged renter was with his daughter. Not to mention how accepting Payton was of Andie.
She’d broken a rule, though, and he couldn’t let it go unmentioned.
“Payton,” he said quietly but firmly when she was two feet away from him, oblivious as she sang something about butterflies.
“Hi, Daddy.” She gave him a look that said she knew she was busted and was waiting to see what he would do. “I’m getting my butterfly book.”
“You went downstairs without me.” He kneeled to her level.
Payton nodded slowly, nailing him with those brown eyes.
“That’s against the rules, honey.”
“Sorry, Daddy.”
“Come here,” he said and lifted her into his arms. He took her upstairs as he explained. “You always have to have an adult with you in the backyard. It’s dangerous to go near the swimming pool alone. You could get hurt badly, girly.”
“Miss Andie’s a adult.”
So she was. “But she’s not the adult in charge of you. You have to have Daddy or Aunt Bridget or Miss Macey or Miss Selena...”
“Or Mr. Evan?”
“Yes.”
“And Mr. Derek?”
“Exactly. Those are the adults who take care of you.”
“Miss Andie has tattubes, just like you,” she said as they went inside. “Hers has a butterfly.”
He gave his imagination free rein as to where it might be located. Shaking his head and grinning, he realized Payton had just successfully distracted him from disciplining her, even if it was innocent on her part.
“Payton, I need you to be clear on this. When can you go to the backyard?”
“When there’s a adult.” She proceeded to list the appropriate names again, adding her grandparents to the list.
“And nobody else.”
She shook her head dramatically, eyes big.
“Not Miss Andie.”
“I like Miss Andie.”
“I like her, too, girly, but she’s just our neighbor. In a few weeks she’ll move away.”
Clay hadn’t let Payton out of his sight for more than two minutes and she’d escaped down nearly forty steps.
He’d caught up in time to see her wander through the gate and had stopped his full-speed pursuit when he saw Andie there, interested in how she would act with his daughter when he wasn’t around.
But that didn’t mean he wanted to make a habit of running into her.
She’d handled his daughter’s never-ending questions well and had seemed to take the girl seriously instead of dismissing her.
Points for the biker girl—if he were keeping score. But it was his daughter’s life, not a game. And he couldn’t afford to like anything about the Harley-riding woman too much.
Once in their place, Payton went up to the top floor, a small, low-ceilinged attic room he’d hired Selena to cover with murals of fairies and butterflies and rainbows.
She returned a few seconds later carrying one of her favorite books, Blue Butterfly, under one arm as she made her careful way down the stairs to him.
“Come on, Daddy.”
“Come on what?”
“We hafta show Miss Andie my book.”
“You weren’t supposed to go down there in the first place, Payton.”
She craned her neck to look up at him. “I promised her.”
Clay held in a grin, realizing Payton had picked up the phrase from him.
“I’ll take you down this time, but if I ever catch you in the backyard without one of your adults, I’ll have to take your butterfly book away for a few days.”
“Put it in time-out?”
“A long time-out. Let’s go show Miss Andie your book and then we’ll make lunch.” He wanted to check out the tattoo anyway.
Going down to see Andie was a mistake, Clay thought as soon as they opened the gate. From
upstairs, his view had been partially blocked by the bushes and foliage along the fence. The eyeful he got now wasn’t something he would forget anytime soon.
She wore a red-and-black string bikini and was stretched out on her stomach.
His eyes were drawn to the firm curves of her barely covered ass and her long, slender legs, then up to her narrow waist. Her skin was lightly tanned and looked as smooth as ice cream and just as mouthwatering.
And that was a completely inappropriate thought, especially when you were holding the hand of your three-year-old daughter.
“See?” Payton said, touching the tattoo on Andie’s upper back without hesitation.
Andie jerked her head around and Clay suspected she’d dozed off in the sun.
“Payton, don’t touch. Not good manners.” There was no way not to see the giant tattoo.
Somehow, though, it wasn’t obnoxious or gaudy, as he’d expect something that size to be on a slender, pretty if rough-edged woman.
Instead he found it intriguing. Fitting.
Andie-ish. He wanted to lean closer and inspect the detailed scrolling, the designs in the butterflies’ wings, and the flowers.
“It’s okay,” Andie said. “Did you bring your book, Miss Payton?”
“See?” She held the book out and Andie sat up, lowering her feet to the pavement, providing Clay with an excellent view of her cleavage.
Andie opened the book in front of her and Payton wormed her way between Andie’s knees, facing the pages. As she usually did, Payton began narrating the pictures on the pages, making up her own story to go with the images.
“Once upon a time, there was a garden full of flowers…”
Clay wandered to the opposite end of the pool to check the water temperature and the skimmer. They didn’t need to be checked, but he was grasping for any damn thing that would distract him from the view.
That all worked fine until Andie and Payton were done flipping through the book and his daughter called out to him.
“Can I go swimming, Daddy?”
“I thought you wanted lunch, girly.” He had to get her into some swim lessons so he wouldn’t worry about her around the pool this much.
She shook her head. “Swimming. Please?”
“We’ll go get your suit in a minute. I need to talk to Miss Andie.”
“Am I in trouble?” Andie said, grinning as if she knew that, in that bikini, she was all kinds of trouble.
“Payton is. She’s not supposed to come down here without me. I hate to ask, but if she does it again while you’re out here, would you let me know right away?”
“Sure, but she was no problem. She’s a great kid.”
“Payton, wait for me,” he called out. She was halfway up to Andie’s landing. “Thanks. I agree. But she’s not your responsibility,” he said to Andie, more harshly than he’d meant to.
Andie sized him up. “You don’t want me to be seen with her. Probably smart. This yard isn’t very private.”
“Nothing personal.”
Their eyes met and neither spoke for several seconds. “Of course,” she finally said. And the truth was that it was, indeed, very personal.
She nodded as she gathered her book and drink. “I’ll get out of your way so you can enjoy your pool.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I do, but it’s okay. It’s best this way.”
She stood and picked up her towel, her smile regretful…or was that wishful thinking on his part?
It was going to be hard enough keeping Payton away from Andie and as detached as possible. The more pressing challenge, it appeared, could be to keep himself detached.