Second-Chance Sweet Shop (Wickham Falls Weddings Book 7) Read online

A frown found its way over Dwight’s features. “I don’t have time for a girlfriend. Maybe after you go off to college I’ll consider dating again.”

  “But that’s not for more than a year, and you’ll be too old to hit the clubs looking for a girlfriend.”

  His frown grew deeper. “What do you know about trolling clubs looking for dates?”

  “I heard Mom say that you look for women in clubs.”

  Dwight felt a surge of rage he found hard to control and counted slowly until he once again felt in control. Adrienne had a tongue that was lethal as cyanide and sharp as a samurai sword. He had dated a few women since his divorce, and fortunately, he hadn’t had to resort to going to clubs to pick them up.

  He chose his words carefully, because the last thing Dwight wanted was to belittle Kiera’s mother. It was enough that she didn’t get along with her stepfather. “Your mother is wrong.”

  “Then why would she say that, Daddy?”

  He forced a smile. “I don’t know.”

  Kiera met his eyes. “Don’t you want a girlfriend?”

  Kiera was asking him questions he’d asked himself over and over since his divorce, and he knew if he hadn’t a daughter he would’ve considered marrying again. There was one woman who lived in the state’s capital that he’d dated off and on for nearly a year. She’d accused him of talking incessantly about his daughter and decided to end their liaison because she wasn’t able to compete with her for his attention. One thing Dwight had promised himself was that he wasn’t going to hide the fact that he was a single father and his daughter came first in his life.

  “It’s not that I don’t want a girlfriend. It’s just that I haven’t met someone I want to spend time with.”

  “Does she have to be pretty?”

  Dwight shook his head. “No, Kiera, looks are nice, but they’re not everything. I’d like her to be well-rounded so we could have intelligent conversations. And it would help if we both like the same things.”

  “Are you saying she would have to be a dentist, too?”

  “Oh, no,” he drawled. “That definitely would be a deal breaker. I don’t want someone where we’d spend all of our time talking about deciduous, cementum and molars.” The last car on the train passed and the gates lifted, and Dwight drove over the tracks.

  “What made you fall in love with Mom and marry her?”

  Frowning through the windshield, he held the wheel in a death-like grip. “What’s with the twenty questions, Kiera? Have you been talking to your mother and she’s been interrogating you about me?”

  Kiera stared straight ahead. She was so still she could’ve been carved out of stone. “The last time I spoke to her she did ask me if you had a girlfriend.”

  A muscle twitched in Dwight’s jaw as he clenched his teeth. “The next time you talk to your mother and she asks about me, I want you to say, ‘No comment.’”

  “You know how Mom is. Grammie says she’s like a dog with a bone.”

  “Well, this big dog isn’t having it. I meant what I said about feeding her information about me.”

  He wanted to tell Kiera that if her mother was so interested in his love life, then she should’ve never divorced him. After all, she had moved on with a new husband in a new city and loved her work, and from what he could see, she was having the time of her life.

  “I know she’s going to get mad at me if I say that to her.”

  “Let me handle your mother, Kiera. We’re both adults and I can say things to her you can’t or shouldn’t. Your mother legally handed over custody of you to me, so that means I’m totally responsible for you until you’re twenty-one.”

  Kiera rested her left hand over his right on the steering wheel. “I’m glad I’m living with you. Thank you, Daddy.”

  He smiled. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

  He would never forget the sound of his daughter’s sobbing when she called to tell him her mother had made plans to send her to a Connecticut boarding school because Kiera had talked back to her stepfather. The tables were reversed because Adrienne’s husband had issued his own ultimatum: him or his stepdaughter.

  Dwight had canceled all his appointments and flew up to New York with the intent of causing bodily harm to the man who’d promised him he would always protect Kiera. By the time the jet landed at LaGuardia Airport his temper had cooled considerably, and he was able to sit down and convince Adrienne their daughter would do well living with him.

  It was his ex-wife’s husband who convinced her to agree to Dwight’s decision. Initially, Adrienne had balked because it meant losing child support, despite her earning a six-figure salary, but in the end after meeting with her lawyer, she signed the papers.

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  Dwight smiled. “Love you more.”

  And he did. He could not imagine loving Kiera any more than he did. Although he and Adrienne had taken precautions to prevent an unplanned pregnancy, he never regretted becoming a father. He’d loved her just that much. However, it wasn’t the same with Adrienne. Motherhood changed her into a sullen woman who resented having to stay home with a baby while he attended dental school. Dwight had promised his wife that as soon as he passed the dental boards and set up a practice, she could return to grad school to get her MBA.

  No one was more shocked than Dwight when she filed for divorce because she didn’t want to be the wife of a small-town dentist. He’d told her repeatedly that he didn’t want to or could not afford to set up a practice in New York City. Blinded by the bright lights and mesmerized by the hustle and bustle of the Big Apple, where she’d attended college, Adrienne couldn’t get it out of her system.

  He drove into the driveway of his house, tapping the remote device on the visor to open the garage door. Kiera kicked off her booties and unbuckled her seat belt. She was out of the Jeep before Dwight shut off the engine. Shoes in hand, she walked gingerly up the stairs and opened the door that led directly into the mudroom. He followed, removing his boots and leaving them on a mat next to a slop sink.

  “What’s up with her?” Victoria Adams asked Dwight when he entered the kitchen.

  “Her dogs are barking.”

  Victoria slowly shook her head. “I told that girl that she can’t look cute standing around for hours in those heels.”

  He tried not to smile. “Hard head makes for a soft behind.”

  “Either it’s a soft behind or bloody toes,” Victoria drawled. She lifted the lid on a pot of rice. “I can remember the days when I used to go to dances in spikes and thought I was really cute until I had to walk home with my shoes in my hands.”

  Dwight handed his mother the box from Sasha’s Sweet Shoppe. “You’re still cute, Mom.” He had always believed his mother was one of the most beautiful women in Wickham Falls. Tall, slender, with delicate features in a flawless sable complexion, she had been voted the prettiest girl in her graduating class. The once curly hair falling to her shoulders reminiscent of clusters of black grapes was now snow-white and styled in a pixie cut that hugged her head like a cap. “You don’t have to make dessert because Sasha has promised to give Kiera whatever she offers as the day’s special.” He handed her the box with the cheesecake.

  Victoria’s large dark eyes, eyes Dwight had inherited, were bright with merriment. “Well, bless her heart. That’s so nice of her. I need to stop in and buy something. The last time I was downtown she still wasn’t open for business.”

  “Maybe you could get the ladies at the auxiliary to order dessert from her. After all, we need to do our part to support our local businesses.”

  “I’ll definitely suggest it.” She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “It’s going to be another thirty or forty minutes before I finish dinner.”

  Dwight dropped a kiss on his mother’s hair. “Do you need help with anything?”

  “No, I’m good here.”
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br />   “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure, Dwight. Go and hang out in the family room until I call you.”

  Even though his mother had her own kitchen in the guesthouse, she preferred using his. He didn’t complain because it reminded him of the times when he’d come home from school as a young boy to find his mother puttering around in the kitchen while preparing the evening meal. As an OR nurse, she had worked the 7:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. shift. Her shift never changed because she had to be home in time for her son at the end of the school day. His mother dropped him off at his paternal grandmother’s house the night before and picked him up there when the bus dropped him off at the end of the day.

  He rarely saw his special-agent father when he was assigned to the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit in Norfolk, Virginia. After a decade, Mathias requested a transfer and was approved to work closer to home for the Bureau’s Criminal Justice Information Services in Clarksburg, West Virginia. Although he’d traded fieldwork for a desk assignment, the two-hour drive between Clarksburg and Wickham Falls was worth the sacrifice if only to see his wife and only child more often. Mathias’s dream of retiring and taking his wife on an around-the-world cruise vanished when the car he was driving was hit when the driver of a tractor trailer fell asleep behind the wheel. He’d died instantly, and even after twelve years Victoria continued to mourn his passing.

  Dwight had just folded his body down to his favorite chaise when he heard Kiera screaming, “Daddy, I can’t find my cell phone!” He didn’t bother to move because Kiera misplacing her phone had become a regular occurrence.

  “Where was the last time you saw it?” he asked when she raced into the room.

  “I know I had it when you picked me up from school, but...” Her words trailed off. “I must have left it at Miss Sasha’s.”

  “Are you sure?”

  An expression of uncertainty flittered over Kiera’s face. “It’s not in my backpack, so I had to put it in my jacket pocket.”

  “Check your pockets again.”

  “I did, Daddy, and it’s not there.”

  “You know what this means if you can’t find it.” Kiera closed her eyes and bit her lip. Dwight knew she was trying not to cry. “Why don’t you call Miss Sasha and ask her if you left it there?”

  Kiera held out her hand, and rising slightly, Dwight gave her the cell phone he’d set on a side table. He waited, watching her expression brighten when she spoke quietly into the phone. “Thank you.”

  “What’s up?” Dwight asked when she returned his phone.

  “She said she’s talking to a client. As soon as she finishes, she’s going to look for it. And if she finds it, she’ll text you, and bring it over later because she’s very busy right now.”

  He didn’t want to tell Kiera that she just might be putting others out of their way because of her carelessness. But he knew she felt bad enough without him reminding her of how many phones she’d lost or misplaced over the years.

  “I promise not to—”

  Dwight held up a hand, stopping her entreaty. “Please, Kiera, don’t say anything else. I’ll cancel your account if Sasha doesn’t find your phone, but it’s going to be at least three months before you get another one.”

  “You can’t do that, Daddy!”

  “Did you forget what you agreed to when you lost the last one?”

  “No, but...”

  “But nothing, Kiera. You’ve had three cell phones in less than six months.”

  Kiera stomped her foot in frustration. “That’s not fair!”

  “Life is not fair, baby girl,” Dwight countered. “Once you’re old enough to have your own account, then I don’t care how many cell phones you lose,” he said as she turned and walked out of the room. Picking up the remote device resting on a side table, he clicked on the television, channel surfing until he found one of his favorite sports programs. The ringtone on his phone indicated he had a text message.

  Sasha: Found the phone. Will bring it over after 9.

  Dwight: I will come and pick it up.

  Sasha: Don’t bother. I’ll drop it off. I’ll get your address from Kiera’s application. Later.

  Dwight was really annoyed that Kiera had been less than responsible with her phone. She claimed she needed one to maintain contact with her mother and some of her former New York City classmates. But that was not going to happen if she continued to lose phones. And if she wanted to call her mother or friends, then she would have to use her grandmother’s landline or the one at his office. His daughter had always had a penchant for losing things when she was younger: mittens, gloves, hats, scarves and now phones. He used to tease her that she would lose her head if it hadn’t been attached to her body.

  When she’d misplaced her last phone, they’d made a pact that she would have to wait at least three months before he bought her another one. Fortunately, Sasha found it, so this time Kiera managed to dodge a bullet.

  * * *

  It was close to ten when Dwight stood on the porch as he waited for Sasha’s arrival. She had sent him another text saying she was on her way. Lightly falling rain had changed over to sleet once the temperature dropped fifteen degrees in two hours, and he’d turned up the thermostat and started a fire in the family room’s fireplace to ward off the sudden chill.

  He saw a sweep of headlights as her van maneuvered into the driveway. He came down off the porch to meet her when she alighted from her vehicle. She’d exchanged her tunic for a white T-shirt. The scent of her perfume wafted to his nostrils with her approach as she rubbed her bare arms. He couldn’t believe she’d gone out without a coat. A rising breeze lifted the curls framing her round face.

  He cupped her elbow. “Please come into the house, where it’s warm.”

  “I had no idea it was this cold until I left my house.”

  He opened the front door, standing off to the side to let her precede him. “You should always leave a jacket in your car.”

  * * *

  Sasha turned her head so Dwight wouldn’t see her gaping as she walked into his house. The two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch was filled with furnishings for maximum comfort and practicality. She thought of the style as casual country that made her feel immediately at home with a desire to stay and put her feet up. The open floor plan with a great room and a combination of the kitchen, living, dining and family rooms allowed light and air to flow unchecked.

  Warmth and the smell of burning wood enveloped her like a thick blanket. “It’s nice and toasty in here.”

  “What if I make you a hot chocolate to warm you up?”

  Sasha turned to find Dwight standing several feet away, hands clasped behind his back. Her intention was to come and drop off Kiera’s cell phone and then leave, but now she wasn’t so certain she wanted to go back home. “I’d like that, thank you.” Reaching into the pocket of her jeans, she handed him the phone. “She left it on a chair.”

  Dwight set it on the glass-topped coffee table. “Do you take your chocolate with whipped cream?”

  Sasha smiled. “But of course.”

  He reached for her hand and led her into the family room. “Sit and warm up. I’ll be right back.”

  She sat on a cream-covered upholstered armchair stamped with jade green leaves. Kicking off her flip-flops, she rested her bare feet on the matching footstool. Sasha did not know what had possessed her to leave the house in mid-February wearing only a T-shirt, jeans and summer footwear. Pressing her head against the back of the chair, she closed her eyes. She’d prided herself on being levelheaded, rational and always assessing a situation before acting. But somehow all was forgotten whenever she and Dwight Adams occupied the same space. Sasha did not know what it was about the man that had her reacting to him like a starstruck adolescent.

  When he’d offered to come over to pick up his daughter’s phone, Sasha had refused
because curiosity overrode what was easier. He’d been divorced for more than a decade and she wanted to know if his home reflected his life as a bachelor father. However, his furnishings suggested a preference for a home filled with the interaction of family and friends.

  Shifting on the chair, she studied a group of photographs on a side table. There was one of Dwight’s parents in their college graduation finery and another of Dwight in his dress army uniform. The oak leaves on his collar identified him as a major. She smiled when staring at a photo of a younger grinning Dwight holding Kiera, who’d pressed her mouth against her father’s cheek.

  Her gaze shifted as she stared at the flickering flames behind the decorative fireplace screen. Nowhere in any of the photos had there been an image of Kiera’s mother, and she wondered if Dwight’s ex-wife had been responsible for decorating the house, and if he’d elected not to change it because it was a constant reminder of the woman he’d loved and married. Her musings about the man were interrupted when he returned and handed her a mug of steaming chocolate topped with a froth of whipped cream.

  Sitting straight, she took the mug, her fingers brushing against his before he took a facing chair. “Thank you. Aren’t you going to have some?” she asked.

  Dwight stared at her under lowered lids. “No. I had a cup of coffee just before you got here.”

  Sasha tightened her hold on the hot mug. “Your home is beautiful.”

  He inclined his head. “Thank you.”

  She took a sip and the warmth in her throat and chest had nothing to do with the heated liquid, but with the way Dwight was looking at her. Why again, she thought, did she feel like a specimen under a microscope?

  “Was this the original design when you moved in?” Sasha asked. She had to talk, do something other than stare at Dwight staring back at her. “I have never been in any of the homes on this side of town,” she explained. Wickham Falls had a population under five thousand, yet the social lines were as clearly drawn as borders separating one state from another.

  Stretching out his legs, Dwight crossed his feet at the ankles. “I had a contractor remove the walls after my divorce.”