Inhaling a deep breath, she forced the rush of emotion aside. She had two weeks to find out. That was the timeframe she’d given herself, one that coincided with the start of the fall semester and also the beginning of the year at the preschool where Timmy was enrolled.
“Aunt Kara.” She glanced in the rearview mirror to meet her nephew’s disgruntled gaze. “I wanna go home.”
That refrain, coupled with “are we there yet?” had repeated with headache-inducing consistency over the past two days. “I know, sweetie.” Turning around in the seat to face her nephew, she said, “Do you remember the man who changed our tire? Well, we need to go to his garage and replace the one that went flat.”
“But why are we just sitting here?” He drummed his heels against the edge of the seat, revealing his impatience.
“Because Mr. Pirelli is…busy.”
And he had been since the moment Kara parked the van across the shop. The prosaically named Sam’s Garage looked like the kind of place that would have a girly calendar pinned to a wall, but it was Sam who could hold his own with Mr. November any day.
Even from across the street, she could see the wink of his dimples, the flash of bright white teeth, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Little wonder women fell for him, and from what she had witnessed, Sam Pirelli did not discriminate.
A tall, stunning redhead had stopped by, followed by a short, curvy blonde. He greeted them with that killer smile and exchanges were made—keys, cars, laughter, embraces. A petite, doe-eyed brunette then brought him a late lunch in a brown paper bag—a huge sandwich he ate with the gusto of a man who was starving. Not that Kara believed it.
With so many women flocking around, going without hardly seemed necessary. Or even possible.
All of which made her wonder again what her sister had been thinking.
It also made Olivia’s advice ring through her thoughts again.
And once the brunette left, Kara decided this might be her best opportunity to get to know Timmy’s father. “All right, Timmy. It looks like Mr. Pirelli has some free time now.”
And as long as no other women stop by, maybe he can squeeze in a few minutes for the son he’s never known.
The thought was more than a little unreasonable, but then again, so was the jealousy she’d felt. She’d told Olivia the man was a playboy, flirting with any woman who crossed his path. That his interest in her and his angling for a dinner date meant nothing. But watching proof of her words brought to light right in front of her made her feel foolish for thinking she might have been wrong.
The motor roared in protest as she turned the key, forgetting she already had the engine running. Even more flustered now, she sucked in a calming breath as she pulled out of her hiding place and drove the minivan the short distance into the garage’s parking lot.
She’d barely set one foot on the ground before Sam appeared, opening the door the rest of the way and offering her a hand.
“Come for that spare?” he asked with enough question in his voice to suggest she might have shown up for another reason. Like the dinner he thought she owed him.
“That’s why I’m here. For the tire.” One that, hopefully, wasn’t as overinflated as Sam’s ego.
Even though they’d only met that morning, Kara had already tried to convince herself he wasn’t that tall, his shoulders weren’t that wide, his smile wasn’t that tempting. That in an effort to distract her emotions, her mind had simply exaggerated, focusing on unimportant details and blowing them all out of proportion. That was what she’d told herself. Unfortunately, Kara realized as she gazed up into his handsome face, she’d lied.
He didn’t give any ground as she stood, keeping her caught between the V of the open door and his body. His eyes searched hers as if looking for answers to questions he’d yet to ask, and Kara’s heartbeat stumbled uncertainly. Standing this close, she could smell the unfamiliar combination of motor oil and machinery, but also the clean, simple, sexy scent of the man beneath.
“Caramel.”
The unexpected reference to candy took her by surprise. “What?”
“Your eyes. They’re the color of the caramel my mom used to make for dipping apples when I was a kid. My brothers liked the crunch of hard candy, but I always wanted rich, swirling caramel.” His gaze roved over her face, but it wasn’t her eyes he finally honed in on.
Kara swallowed hard, biting back the urge to run her tongue over lower lip. Not in anticipation of a childhood treat, but with a longing for the sweet promise of Sam’s kiss. The shock of her own desire was enough to lock her trembling knees in place. “My eyes are brown. Plain and simple.”
“Oh, I’d be willing to bet there’s nothing simple about you.” His voice held a hint of teasing, but something told her he wasn’t joking. That he knew she had her secrets and wouldn’t stop until he discovered them all. “You had sunglasses on earlier. For some reason with your blond hair and fair skin, I expected your eyes to be blue.”
Another shock quaked down her spine, and Kara braced a hand against the side of the minivan. Sam stepped back, giving her room to breathe, but she still felt lightheaded after his casual revelation.
Marti’s eyes had been blue.
While Kara had worried about Sam’s paternal instincts coming to the fore and that he might somehow recognize Timmy as his son, she’d given little thought to him realizing she was Marti’s sister. Though the two of them had the same coloring and bone structure, the similarities ended there. Her sister had been taller, blonder, hiding her fair skin behind bronzers and spray-on tans.
“Aunt Kaaaraaaa!” Timmy’s impatient call from the backseat broke through her panic, and she ducked past Sam to open the door.
“Sorry, Timmy. Come on out, okay?”
The boy nodded, but his attention was clearly on the man standing behind her, a mix of curiosity and interest in his green eyes.
Sam’s eyes.
And Kara knew in that moment, everything had changed. Whether or not she told Sam about the boy he’d unknowingly fathered, she would never be able to look at her nephew the same way again. The weight of the secret she kept made her long to jump back in the van and drive as far as she could to escape the responsibility.
If the seriousness of the choice she had to make hadn’t been so great, Kara might have laughed. Running from responsibility. That was something she’d never done as an adult. Reaching up, she touched the locket she wore around her neck. For the past twelve years, she’d lived her life on the straight and narrow, determined to make the right choices. To do the right thing.
But what was the right thing? To tell the truth? Or to keep her sister’s secret?
Realizing she wasn’t going to come to a decision right then, Kara held out her hand as Timmy climbed from the backseat, his dinosaur tucked beneath one arm.
“Aunt Kara?” Sam echoed, a hint of surprise lifting his eyebrows, and Kara realized he must have assumed Timmy was her son.
“Um,
