Which is where she still was. Alone. No kid, no cat, no nothing save for the occasional whirr of her refrigerator or the whoosh of a car passing by.
But it was safe, right? Boring as hell, but safe.
She wondered what Blair was doing right now, if she was with Hank or whether she and Libby had already rebonded. She wondered if she was going to spend every day between now and Thanksgiving wondering about Blair.
And every day of the rest of her life wondering about Hank.
She knew they all thought she was crazy. Since she thought she was crazy, too, she could hardly blame them.
But this was safe. Painless.
Hunger finally impelled her off the sofa and into the kitchen, where she discovered she'd forgotten to replenish the chip stash when she was out. Bummer. So she made herself a ham and cheese sandwich, carrying the plate and a bottle of water into her office. Bookshelves lined one wall, full of reference books, other authors' works, her previously published Stella Moon mysteries. And in front of the books, photos—of her parents, of Blair…of Phil.
Of Phil, who'd refused to let her give in to the fears that would have kept her from going after her dream.
Who'd refused to sympathize with her whenever she got writer's block.
Who'd refused to let his illness rob him of his joy and love of life. Even at the end.
And this was how she was honoring him? By hiding in a twelve-by-twelve-foot room with a bunch of damn books for company?
Oh, for pity's sake. Step right up, folks and see the Stupid Lady, live and in person.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered, only she wasn't sure who she was whispering it to, the man she'd loved for more than twenty years…or the one she loved with all her heart and soul now.
One good thing about stupidity, she thought, picking up the phone to call her department head: it didn't have to be terminal.
* * *
A middle-aged man on his way out held the door open for her. "You ever stay here before?" he asked with a smile, not seeming to notice—or care—that her entire left side was dripping wet. Her car window had jammed an inch from the top just past St. Louis…right as she headed into a storm system that had kept her company for the rest of the trip and left her jeans and sweatshirt clinging to her like a cold, nasty second skin.
"Um, yes, actually," Jenna said with a nervous smile, forking her hand through her damp tangles and trying to keep her teeth from chattering. "Last summer."
"It's a real nice place, isn't it?" he said. She agreed, and he went on his way, leaving her standing there with her heart pounding hard enough to crack a rib, apparently as invisible as a stray dog who'd slunk in when nobody was watching. Danny and SueEllen were both at the desk, signing in a young couple with two little boys; behind them, at the computer, sat Blair and Hank, arguing about something on the screen.
SueEllen, her belly just beginning to pooch underneath her obviously brand new maternity jumper, saw Jenna first and nudged Danny, who was in the process of handing over the keys to the family, who then streamed around her and out of the office, the kids giving her funny looks. Jenna put a finger to her lips before Danny could get his mouth open; Danny glanced behind him at Hank and Blair, still engrossed with whatever they'd pulled up on the Internet.
"Dad, that flight'll get into D.C. before lunchtime."
"Okay, okay, fine…"
Glowering, Hank grabbed the mouse. And Jenna heard herself say, "Going somewhere?"
Blair's head whipped up, a huge smile streaking across her face, followed by a squeal as she bolted from behind the counter and into Jenna's arms. But all Jenna saw was Hank, still seated behind the computer, gaping at her as if she were a ghost.
A second later, except for Jessye Norman's singing the hell out of some German lieder, they were alone.
Slowly, his throat convulsing, Hank rose from his chair and started around the counter, his eyes littered with questions and hope as he gathered speed, closing the last few feet between them in barely two strides and sweeping her into his arms. And Jenna, on a soft cry of relief and joy, wrapped her arms around his waist and hung on for dear life. They simply held each other for a long time, Hank's cheek pressed against the top of her head.
"I'm all wet," she finally said into his flannel shirt.
"Best news I've had all day," he rumbled, then cupped her face in his hands and kissed her until she got wetter.
Finally, they pried their mouths apart—a good thing, since another ten seconds and they'd have both keeled over from lack of oxygen—and Hank said, simply, "Why?" only to promptly start an assault on her jaw and neck and collarbone.
"Because," Jenna said, a little breathlessly, nearly over-whelmed—in a very good way—with all that male solidity pressed along the length of her body, "I couldn't afford a new wardrobe."
Hank chuckled, right next to her ear, then hugged her again.
"And," she added softly, "because it seemed kind of dumb to grieve someone who was still alive. It's like you said—I'd rather spend ten minutes with you, than a lifetime without."
He hugged her more tightly. After a minute, she lifted her head, her hands on his chest. "You were coming to see me?"
Love burned in his eyes. "I was coming to knock some sense into your head."
"Even after everything I'd said?"
"Yeah," he said, his thumbs whispering across her cheekbones, and she said, "Thank you for not giving up on me," and he kissed her again, hard, and said, "You're more'n welcome, sweetheart." Then he added, "You know, that's one scary kid we've got there."
She smiled, nearly giddy with the love she'd nearly denied both of them. And which, ultimately, was stronger than all their fears put together. "I know. Guess we're pretty lucky, huh?"
He skimmed a knuckle down her cheek and smiled back. "Damn lucky, honey. Damn lucky."
* * *
He and Jenna and Blair had a celebratory dinner at Ruby's, complete with chocolate shakes and Ruby's fried chicken for him and Jenna, while his daughter scarfed down a three-egg vegetarian omelette like she hadn't eaten in a year. Sure, there were things to work out yet, like Jenna's teaching job and how soon they could get married—Hank was all for a hurry-up deal at the courthouse next week, since it was obvious Jenna would never go for sharing his house, or his bed, with a thirteen-year-old in residence if they weren't married, but Blair was insisting they have a real wedding because she thought it would be cool to be a bridesmaid, which meant Hank saw a lot of overnights at Libby's in Blair's future, since no way in hell was he gonna be able to keep his hands off Jenna that long—but the major hurdles were behind them.
And the future beckoned, full of promise.
Seated beside him in the booth, Jenna slipped her hand into his, her chin propped in her other one as she listened to Blair go on and on and on about something one of Libby's dumb little brothers—her words—had done.
And Hank grinned, thinking, Fasten your seatbelt, Logan—things are just gettin' good.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8090-2
FATHERS AND OTHER STRANGERS
Copyright © 2003 by Karen Templeton Berger
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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†How To Marry a Monarch
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†How To Marry a Monarch
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**The Men of Mayes County
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**The Men of Mayes County
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*Weddings, Inc.
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*Weddings, Inc.
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*Weddings, Inc.
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Table of Contents
KAREN TEMPLETON,
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Fathers and Other Strangers Page 25