The Real Father (Twins) (Harlequin Superromance No. 927) by Kathleen O`Brien Page A

Mom.” She looked up to see Liza standing at the edge of the flower bed, her book bag in her hand. Molly lifted her wrist, guiltily checking her watch—though of course it was caked in soil and unreadable.
    Was school out already? She’d been so engrossed she hadn’t heard the bus arrive. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I meant to meet you at the stop.”
    Liza smiled. “That’s okay. Tommy Cheatwood walked with me. He came to Everspring because he and Mr. Forrest are going fishing. They invited me to go with them. Is that okay?”
    Molly couldn’t miss the glow on Liza’s face. She hadn’t ever been fishing before—and Liza was an adventurer at heart. She loved nothing better than trying something new. From origami to paintball, from ant farming to line dancing, Liza’s instincts were always clamoring “yes!”
    â€œWhat about homework?”
    â€œJust math. Page 242, the evens. I can do it afterdinner.” Liza pressed her hands together imploringly. “Mom, please?”
    How could anyone resist that smile? And yet, Molly felt herself hesitating—her mind scanning for excuses. The idea of Liza spending all afternoon with Jackson made her nervous. Suppose he started asking Liza questions? Molly hadn’t prepared Liza—though she had been perfectly willing to lie herself, her conscience had balked at the idea of rehearsing her daughter in perjury. Liza knew only that her father had died before he had been able to marry her mother. Molly had promised to tell her all about him when she was a little older. But that might be enough. Jackson was no fool.
    â€œHoney, I don’t know. Mr. Forrest might have felt awkward. I mean, if you were standing there, they might have invited you because they thought it would be rude not to—”
    â€œYou know me better than that, M.” Liza and Molly looked up to see Jackson coming around the corner from the main house. He wore faded jeans and a sweatshirt, carried a trio of fishing poles, and looked immensely amused. “I’m not at all allergic to being rude, if the occasion calls for it. We invited her because we thought it would be fun.” He winked at Liza, who grinned back happily. “What do you say, Molly? We won’t let her fall in.”
    Liza didn’t beg any further, but her longing was almost like a humming in the air. Her eyes were locked on Molly’s face, trying to read her chances.
    â€œOkay,” Molly said, and the syllables were barely out of her mouth before Liza squealed withdelight and rushed over to give her a grateful hug. “Let me clean up, and I’ll get you a snack before you go.”
    â€œNo need,” Jackson said. “Lavinia’s already making sandwiches for the two of them. Peanut butter and—” He paused, giving Molly a deadpan expression. “I suggested jelly, but Vinnie seemed to be leaning toward cucumber.”
    Molly wrinkled her nose instinctively, but Liza looked fascinated. “Cool,” she said. “I’ve never had that before.”
    â€œBetter hurry to the kitchen, then, before Tommy eats them all.” He raised one quick wry smile toward Molly. “I’ll wait for you here.”
    When Liza was out of earshot, Molly chuckled. “Coward,” she said.
    â€œI don’t notice you running in for a bite yourself,” he countered. “Not that Lavinia would let you in her kitchen looking like that.” He dragged a nugget of pine bark from her hair and flicked it back into the mulch. “I thought you were the brains of your landscape company, not the brawn.”
    She smiled sheepishly, knowing she must look a wreck. She probably had a mud mustache—she remembered carelessly wiping her upper lip with grimy fingers. “But this is the part I like,” she said plaintively. “Don’t you think it’s perverse that the more successful you are, the less