Free The Gift by Deb Stover

ticking filled the strained silence for several seconds. Then someone cleared his throat from across the room. Their heads turned toward the foyer, where Ty leaned against the doorframe as if he’d been there for quite a spell. Listening.
    “Yes, Sarah. Why?”
    Ty felt as if he’d been rode hard and put up wet.
    And now this. What was Beth Dearborn doing here at this hour? And hadn’t Pearl gone home hours ago? What could Sarah have said to Beth? What the hell was going on here?
    “Well?” He gritted his teeth and counted silently to ten. Again. “Sarah, I’m waiting. You put Ms. Dearborn in danger. She—and I—deserve an explanation.”
    Tears welled in his daughter’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Strands of blonde hair, so much like her mother’s, clung to the dampness. She shoved them back and sniffled. “I—I’m sorry.” Her lower lip trembled.
    “I know that, honey, but you still haven’t told us why.” Damn, but he hated it when she cried. Reminded him that Lorilee wasn’t here to pick up the broken pieces of their little girl’s life. Reminded him the buck stopped with him. Reminded him he was alone in this parenting deal…
    “I saw her card on your desk.” Sarah cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. The girl had the Malone stubborn streak a mile wide. “I thought…” Her face crumpled.
    Ah, shit. Ty walked across the room and gathered his daughter in his arms. “Shh.” He tucked her head under his chin and held her while she cried. That was one thing he’d grown to excel at in the past seven years. “Sorry, darlin’. I dang near had to swim home, and I’m getting you all wet.”
    She giggled a little at that. “I don’t care.” Her voice sounded muffled against his chest.
    Ty turned his attention to Beth Dearborn. She looked even worse than he felt. Her upper lip and nose were swollen as if she’d taken a blow to the face, and she had a bag of frozen peas plastered to her forehead.
    “What happened?” He eased Sarah slightly away from him and turned her to face Beth as well. His daughter was, at least indirectly, responsible for this. “Were you in an accident, Beth?”
    Crimson crept upward along her neck, from the opening of the tightly clutched quilt. Holy crap! Was she naked under there? He glanced down and saw her damp jeans beneath the quilt, putting an end to that speculation. Remembering his manners, he dragged his gaze back to her flushed face and waited for an answer. Come to think of it, Sarah still owed him an answer as well.
    “We aren’t sure what happened,” Pearl said after several awkward moments. “We found her passed out on the floor by the front door with that goose egg on her forehead.”
    Ty raked a hand through his damp hair, keeping his gaze fixed on Beth, who set the now-sweating bag of peas on a towel, then turned her attention to spinning her empty cup in her saucer. Anything but risk making eye contact?
    The quilt slipped from her shoulders, and her damp T-shirt clung to her like shrink-wrap. Shit. He swallowed hard, and a thin film of sweat coated his brow.
    She had nice breasts. Firm, full, though smaller than average. Still…nice. And her nipples…Well, he’d noticed those earlier today, and he’d thought about them all damned—
    Criminy, Malone. Get a grip.
    Yeah, he’d like to get a grip all right. On her. Vaguely aware of Pearl and Sarah talking to each other, he drew a deep breath and looked up at Beth’s face again. Of course, now she would look at him—just in time to catch him ogling her nipples.
    She wasn’t blushing now. She arched an eyebrow, tilted her head slightly to the right, parted her lips ever so slightly in a knowing smile…
    And winked.
    Ty choked, and Sarah stepped away to pat him on the back. “You really are wet, Daddy. What happened?”
    He coughed for a minute, trying not to bust out laughing at Beth Dearborn’s audacity. The woman was perplexing as hell. Finally, he shook his head and ended