Storybook Dad (Harlequin American Romance) Read Online Free

Storybook Dad (Harlequin American Romance)
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to make my name. See?”
    Stepping back, she looked again at the wiggly line and
recognized it as an S. Three additional letters
later, he was done. “Your name is Seth?”
    “Yupper doodle.” His broad smile reached his bright blue
eyes.
    His Ocean Wave Blue eyes…
    She glanced from Seth to the man and back again, the
confirmation she sought virtually certain. But still, she asked, “Do you know
your last name, Seth?”
    “Of course I do, silly. But I can’t write that name yet. It’s
too big and kinda tricky. Especially the first letter.” Seth cupped his left
hand to the side of his mouth and tipped his head upward. “Gam says I just need
to pretend the circle at the top changed its mind and is runnin’ away from the
line.”
    Squatting down beside the boy, she left a space between Seth’s
efforts and her own, talking him through the letter he’d just described. When
she was done, she nudged her chin in its direction. “Is this the letter?”
    “Yupper doodle.” He leaped to his feet and came to stand on the
opposite side of Emily. “ R for R-R-R-Reynolds!”
    * * *
    M ARK CRANKED THE REEL slowly, hoping the slight movement would be
enough to capture the attention of even one member of the fish population that
inhabited Lake Winoka. If it did, at least he’d have something else to think
about besides Emily Todd.
    From the moment he’d left Bucket List 101, his thoughts had
continuously returned to the attractive woman, earning him more than a few
curious looks from Seth throughout the afternoon. Mark understood the fear she
felt, sympathized with her need to pretend her loved one wasn’t ill. He’d been
there and done that throughout the entire year leading up to Sally’s death.
    It had been a mistake. A mistake he’d undo in a heartbeat if
given the chance.
    But there would be no more chances. He couldn’t rewind time no
matter how much he wished he could. Instead, he had to find a way to live with
the guilt of choosing his job over his dying wife over and over again. At the
time it had made such sense. Work was how he coped. The more he worked, the less
time he had to think, and to feel.
    But it had been wrong. For Sally. For Seth. And for him.
    No. Mark wasn’t going to let Emily make the same mistakes.
Somehow, some way, he was going to help her realize that by facing her loved
one’s illness head-on, she’d be saving herself the added torture of guilt at the
end.
    Determined to help, he reeled in the rest of his line and made
his way across the rocks. Once he had Seth settled in bed for the night, he
could go about putting together a packet of information for Emily. Maybe with
more information, she wouldn’t feel the need for denial.
    And maybe, just maybe, helping Emily would enable him to shed
some of his own insomnia-inducing guilt.
    He stepped off the last rock and onto the sand and looked
toward the castle he’d left Seth to finish while he fished. But instead of
finding his son elbow-deep in sand, he spotted him standing beside a kayak and a
petite blonde woman.
    Mark quickened his pace, only to slow it again as the identity
of the women became clear.
    “Emily? Is that you?”
    “Hi, Mark,” she answered.
    Eagerly, he jogged forward, fishing pole in hand. “Can I help
you get in your kayak?”
    A look of something resembling irritation flashed across her
face. “If I can lift a kayak on and off my car, and carry it from the parking
lot to the lake all by myself, I’m quite certain I can get into the water,
too.”
    He drew back at the animosity in her voice. “Oh, okay. No
sweat. We’ll leave you to it, then.” Cupping his son’s shoulder, he tried to
steer him in the direction of the parking lot, but Seth wiggled free and ran
back toward Emily.
    “Take me with you. Pretty, pretty please? I’ve never, ever, ever been in a boat like that before.”
    “Seth!” Mark stepped forward, waving his fishing pole. “You
can’t just invite yourself in someone’s boat like that,
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