“Riley is-”
“Your paramour, of course! No need to explain. He’s such a handsome hunk, you’re a lucky woman, but then he’s a fortunate man to have such a beauty as you on his arm. Spencer’s filled me in on your accomplishments over the years. I know how bright you are. He’s proud of all three of you girls.” She paused, as if debating what to say next. “But he always thought you were special,” the other woman said, lowering her voice.
Riley tried not to laugh at her sudden whisper. It wasn’t as if Annabelle or Micki was anywhere near to hear the comparison.
Sophie reached out and grasped the other woman’s hand. “Thank you,” she said softly, her heart and all of her emotions bared in those two small words.
For the first time in years, he softened toward his biological father and all because of how he’d treated Sophie. Spencer’s instincts had been on target. He’d been right to single her out and give her the attention she obviously craved.
But warring with his unexpected admiration was an old childhood jealousy because Sophie and her sisters had received the love and approval Riley had always sought and failed to achieve. He forcibly reminded himself he was no longer that needy child, and it helped to ease his flash of pain.
“He’s not my paramour,” Sophie said in her haughtiest tone, her pert nose in the air.
Maybe it was her vehement denial. Or maybe it was how appalled she sounded by the notion of being linked to him, as if their recent truce and the lingering sexual tension didn’t exist. Riley’s ego, wounded first by Spencer’s lack of acknowledgment and then by Sophie’s blatant disregard, took over.
He stepped forward and slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Now, honey, didn’t we talk about you getting over this shyness? Of course we’re lovers and Ms. Atkins obviously has no issues with our relationship, so why hide it?”
Sophie turned her head to him, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. “Riley…” Her voice held a warning edge.
He raised an eyebrow, silently challenging her to deny the heat where their bodies touched and the pulse-pounding desire thrumming through them even at that moment.
Spencer’s sister, meanwhile, watched avidly.
“Ms. Atkins,” Sophie began.
She shook her head. “Darla, please.”
Sophie smiled. “Darla. Riley needs-”
“I need to speak to you,” he said, cutting off any details Sophie might have let slip.
Why tell the chatterbox that he was Spencer’s son when they were looking to keep the news quiet? In case Sophie didn’t get his drift, he squeezed her waist, hoping she took his cue to remain silent about the truth.
He glanced at her delicate profile. Although she continued to scowl, no doubt still unhappy about his pronouncement that they were a couple, she kept her mouth shut tight and he exhaled in relief.
“Come in, come in.” Darla led them into the house.
Riley noticed she didn’t comment on their need to speak to Spencer.
Was his father here? Riley’s gut cramped at the notion of finally coming face-to-face with the man who’d avoided him all his life.
Riley held on to Sophie, long enough to whisper in her ear, “Just when are you going to ask her if the old man’s here?”
“I thought I’d finesse the situation. If Spencer isn’t here, and she doesn’t know that he’s missing, I don’t want to worry her.”
“What did you say?” Darla asked.
“Nothing,” Sophie replied, and pulled Riley along.
Together they entered a small kitchen with red and black wallpaper, modern appliances and homey clutter all over the place. The place was well lived in, Riley thought. Unlike his mother and stepfather’s home, which was an old estate on acres of land with servants to keep things immaculate and clean. The contrast was striking and yet Riley liked the warmth he sensed in this house. He wouldn’t be surprised if Spencer had decided to hide out here until the scandal blew over.
Following Sophie’s lead, Riley settled into a chair at the kitchen table, letting Sophie direct the conversation. They declined the offer of drinks and snacks, and they made small talk until Darla finally asked, “So what are you doing in Florida?”
The question didn’t bode well for their search, Riley thought.
“When was the last time you spoke with your brother?” Sophie asked, instead of replying directly to the other woman’s question.
“Oh, that Spencer’s an erratic one. Sometimes he calls daily, sometimes more often and when he’s busy during draft season, we don’t hear from him for weeks on end.”
“We?” Riley asked out of curiosity.
“My sister, Rose, lives here, too. She’s at the market. It’s grocery day and this is her week, which is a good thing because my sciatica is acting up and I don’t think I’d be able to bend and put things into the cart easily. Unless of course I wink at that cutie they hired. He might be willing to help me,” she mused.
“Isn’t that jailbait?” he whispered to Sophie.
She nudged him in the ribs.
“It’s hard to find a man over seventy with all his hair and his own teeth. Ian’s got both.” Darla glanced at Riley, a twinkle in her eyes.
This was a smart cookie, Riley thought. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was talking in circles on purpose to distract them.
“Draft season’s coming up,” Riley said, picking up on her thread of conversation. “Does that mean you haven’t heard from Spencer lately?”
“He checks in,” she said vaguely.
“He took a sudden vacation but didn’t say where he was going,” Sophie said. “We were hoping you’d know where to find him.”
Darla leaned forward in her chair. “Why didn’t you just call and ask me?”
Sophie blinked. “We did. Often. Nobody answered.”
“Oh, that Rose. She’s got herself a new boyfriend and doesn’t answer call waiting when she’s talking on the phone. I always tell her she’s such a chatterbox. Nobody enjoys hearing incessant nonsense.” She sniffed as if she were above such things.
Riley did his best not to laugh.
“Well, we’re hoping Spencer will call tonight seeing as it’s my birthday and all, so you may get lucky yet.”
“Happy birthday,” they both said as if on cue.
“Thank you,” the redhead said, beaming.
Riley glanced at Sophie but couldn’t tell whether she was buying Darla’s story. For Riley, the jury was still out.
Darla rose from her seat. “Now you’ll stay here for as long as you’re in Florida. Spencer would never forgive me if I didn’t treat family right.”
The woman had no idea how right on the mark she actually was with that particular word, Riley thought. He tried not to wince while Sophie immediately reached out to him in understanding, her hand covering his thigh. He wondered if she realized how intimate the gesture was or how often she’d touched him in the past few hours, mostly when she was looking out for him or protecting his feelings.
He liked it. A lot.
“We don’t want to cause any trouble, so we’ll stay in a hotel,” Sophie said.
Darla shook her head. “Nonsense.” She waved the suggestion away with her hand. “Didn’t Spencer tell you this is sort of like a retirement community, only better because we don’t rent, we own it all. Spencer bought the land years ago and helped us develop it. Rose’s daughter, Amy, runs the place and lives in one of the homes. You’ll meet her soon enough. Luckily one of our patio homes that we normally lease is empty. The place is clean, fumigated and immaculate. You two will be quite comfortable.”
Had she come up for air? Riley wasn’t certain. He couldn’t focus on anything except the notion that he and Sophie would be sharing a patio home. She continued to prattle on, giving him no time to digest the information now or even decide how he felt about them living together for the duration of their stay in the Sunshine State.