Erin gave her a little nudge. “Why don’t we go and say hello?”

Christie took her mother’s hand and started across the driveway. Parker waited for them in the doorway. His gaze settled on the child.

Erin wondered what he was thinking. She tried to imagine what she would be thinking at a time like this, but her brain wasn’t working, even though there was no reason for it not to. Parker might be fairly good-looking with dark hair and dark eyes, but he wasn’t stunningly handsome. She tried to figure out what it was about him that made her stomach twitch.

He wore his hair short, barely brushing the collar of his white shirt. The top two buttons were undone and the sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, but that wasn’t especially provocative. Well-worn jeans hugged narrow hips and lean thighs. His legs were long and his white athletic shoes had seen better days. Her research told her he was worth more money than most people could spend in a lifetime, but he looked like an ordinary guy.

So why had her hand tingled when he’d taken it in his? Why had she found it tough to breathe or even think rationally? It must have been nerves. She wasn’t the romantic impulsive sister. That had always been Stacey.

As they neared the house, Parker took a step toward them, then hesitated. He looked uncertain. Erin realized he didn’t know what to say to his daughter. A little over four years ago, she’d been just as terrified.

Christie pursed her lips. “Are you really my daddy?”

Parker nodded and squatted down so they were at eye level. “Yes, Christie. My name is Parker Hamilton.”

“Shouldn’t I call you Daddy?”

His dark gaze raised to hers, as if asking her opinion. Erin smiled. “It makes sense to me.”

“Okay,” Parker said, his voice thick. Emotions chased across his face-confusion, terror, wonder. Erin knew just how he felt. At least when she’d found out about Christie, the girl had been an infant, not a fully formed person with independent ideas and opinions.