Falling for the Single Dad by Lisa Carter

Caroline expected. Less tension—none, in fact. More fun. More comfortable than she’d allowed herself to imagine. Small talk wasn’t a problem with Izzie around.
    Caroline found herself sharing memories of a childhood on the Shore. Happy memories of sun-drenched summers, crisp autumn skies, the beauty of the fog-shrouded tidal marsh in winter. And her vision for a marine rescue center.
    The food was good. The conversation and company even better. In the glow of the hurricane lamp on the table, a portion of the loneliness she’d carried with her for so long seeped away.
    Izzie managed to drag out of Caroline the moment she decided to become a turtle lady. It had begun with a turtle entangled in one of her father’s nets in the old days before stricter fishing regulations were put in place.
    â€œDad and I carefully cut away the rope and lowered the turtle over the side of the Now I Sea . I was so proud because Dad said he needed my help. We watched the turtle—a loggerback, I realize now—slip beneath the blue-green waters of the inlet and disappear from sight.” Caroline leaned against the back of her chair.
    Weston took a sip of sweet tea. “So it was your dad and that experience that inspired you to become an aquatic veterinarian.”
    â€œI love my dad...” Izzie squeezed Weston’s hand.
    The gesture caught at Caroline’s emotions, the ones she tried so hard to keep in check. “I love my dad, too. I just wish—” She blinked and looked away.
    â€œWere you close?”
    She gave him a sad smile. “When he could drag me away from the hurt animals I collected. He’s always loved animals, too. Something we shared. Amelia was his fishing buddy. Lindi and Honey were Mom’s little shadows.”
    Caroline sighed. “It wasn’t always easy finding a place for myself in the family.” She blew a breath between her lips. “Or now for that matter.”
    â€œBeneath the hurt and anger, he loves you, too.”
    â€œWe don’t always get do-overs, though.”
    His eyes became hooded. “No, we don’t.” He scooted back his chair. “So we need to make the most of today. Izzie, let’s show Caroline the lighthouse.”
    â€œThe dishes.” Caroline rose. “Let me—”
    â€œDishes can wait.” He stacked their plates and left them on the counter. “Come on. Wait till you see what we’ve done.”
    Izzie yanked open the wooden door in the wall Caroline had spied earlier. “Come on, you slowpokes.”
    â€œWe’re keeping it closed off until the construction phase is over and the dust settles.” He ushered her through.
    Caroline’s breath hitched.
    He grimaced. “Bear in mind, it’s a work in progress.”
    She touched his sleeve. “It’s wonderful.”
    Caroline surveyed the unplastered redbrick walls in the circular-shaped room. The exterior door probably led directly to the beach below. A curving staircase spiraled upward. Not unlike the chambered nautilus shell on the mantel above a restored hearth.
    â€œMy grandfather’s. It was the only thing he brought with him when the Coast Guard closed this place in the 1950s. He kept it mounted on a shelf in his study in Richmond. Reminded him of home. Like you, he grew up here. From a long line of lightkeepers.”
    Izzie dangled over the baluster railing at an angle that made Caroline dizzy. Proving Monkey Girl was an apt nickname. “Daddy says that’s our family’s special gift—we shine the light.”
    He shrugged. “She makes it sound far more noble than—”
    â€œIn an increasingly dark world—” Caroline lifted her chin “—I’m not sure there’s a more noble legacy to have than that.”
    â€œThis will be the new family room, and the cottage will be renovated once we move into our new quarters upstairs.” A light sparked in his