“We never fizzled,” he noted. “Which leads me to believe that what’s between us is more than simple chemistry.”
“Maybe it is,” she acknowledged. “But there’s too much at stake to play around with it this time.”
“Don’t use Ava as an excuse. We both care too much about her to let our personal relationship affect her.”
“We don’t have a personal relationship.”
“We have a child together,” he reminded her. “I’d say that proves we have a relationship.”
“No, that only proves we had sex.”
“Great sex.”
She blew out a breath. “The details are irrelevant.”
“The details keep me up at night—thinking about you, wanting you.”
“You’re a man,” she said dismissively. “Men are always thinking about sex.”
“Are you trying to annoy me?” Though his tone was mild, the heat in his gaze was not.
She swallowed. “No.”
“You always did know how to push my buttons,” he admitted. “And maybe that’s what you’re doing—trying to push me to make the next move so that you don’t have to acknowledge your own feelings. Your own desires.”
“Your next move is to talk to your daughter,” she told him.
* * *
It wasn’t quite the direction that Jack wanted to go with their conversation, but he knew Kelly was right.
“Do you want to come up with me?” he asked hopefully.
She shook her head. “You need to do this. She needs to know that she matters enough for you to make the effort.”
Because she did, he trudged up the stairs.
“I’m sorry if you think I overreacted,” he said, standing in the doorway of Ava’s room.
“You did overreact.”
“I’m just trying to look out for you.”
“Why?” she challenged.
Since it was obvious that an invitation wasn’t forthcoming, he stopped waiting for one and moved into the room. “Because I’m your father.”
“That’s just biology.”
He settled himself onto the edge of her mattress. “It started with biology,” he admitted.
“And then what?” Her tone was derisive. “A parent-teacher barbecue and a few soccer practices somehow developed your nurturing instincts?”
“Don’t forget The Fun Warehouse.”
She didn’t crack a smile.
“Yes, Ava, through those events, I started to get to know you. And the more I learned about you, the more I realized that you are a bright, beautiful young woman. You’re caring, compassionate, and more than a little competitive. You’ve got a soft heart, but you don’t like anyone to see your vulnerabilities.” He smiled. “You really are more like your mother than either of you probably realizes.”
She seemed unimpressed by his analysis. “Do you realize I’m almost thirteen?”
“Not until February twelfth.”
Ava pouted, obviously not expecting him to know that.
“And even if you were thirteen,” he continued. “I still wouldn’t have let you sneak off with a fifteen-year-old boy. If you want to hang out with someone—friend, boyfriend, whatever—you should invite him over so that your mom and I can meet him.”
“Yeah, cuz that wouldn’t be embarrassing,” she muttered.
“Probably less embarrassing than me hauling you out of the nonfiction section of the library.”
“Maybe,” she acknowledged.
“Do we have an understanding?”
She nodded slowly. “But I’m still mad at you.”
“I hope, when you get over being mad, that you’ll realize I’m setting boundaries because I love you and want you to be smart and safe.”
He hadn’t practiced a speech. He hadn’t known what he was going to say until the words spilled out of his mouth. And though they were probably no different from the words spoken by countless fathers before, they were undeniably true.
When Kelly had first told him that he had a daughter—after the initial shock had faded and the instinctive panic had receded—he’d been curious. As they’d gotten to know one another and slowly overcome their mutual wariness, he’d realized that he genuinely liked her. And then somehow, sometime between that first disastrous dinner and tonight, she’d moved in and taken up permanent residence in his heart. Just like her mother.
Ava blinked damp eyes. “You...love...me?”
“I guess I haven’t said that before?”
She shook her head.
“I’m still kind of new at this father thing,” he reminded her. “But I do love you.”
She sniffled, and though he knew she wasn’t yet close to forgiving him, he didn’t think she was quite as mad anymore. “There’s something Mom used to say to me when I was little, if I was misbehaving.”
“I can’t believe you ever misbehaved,” he said, and earned a small smile.
“Not often,” she promised. “But she used to say that she might not like how I was acting, but she always loved me. So I thought I should tell you—I didn’t like what you did tonight, but I—I love you, too.”
He leaned over to touch his lips to her forehead. “That works for me.”
Chapter Twelve
The Pinehurst Fall Festival had been one of Kelly’s favorite community events when she was a kid, but not for any of the usual reasons. As much as she’d always enjoyed the rides and the games and the cotton candy, it was the electric buzz of excitement that ran through the crowd that had made the biggest impression on her.
She was curious to know if it would still feel the same or if, as an adult, she would realize that it was the innocence and wonder of youth that had made the event seem much bigger and better than it was. Since she was taking Ava and Laurel, she hoped that they would experience some of the same joy and excitement.
She had planned to be gone before Jackson got home from work. Not that she was avoiding him, exactly. She just found that if she kept some physical distance between them, it was easier to think clearly and remember all the reasons she needed to keep that physical distance between them.
Of course, Jackson seemed to take advantage of every opportunity to invade her personal space and take pleasure in doing so. He liked to touch her, although not in a blatantly sexual way. Just casual, seemingly innocent touches that nevertheless stirred up everything inside her. The briefest stroke made her remember leisurely, lingering caresses; the softest touch inspired memories of hard, impatient demands; the slightest brush of skin made her crave full-body contact.
He was, slowly and relentlessly, seducing her. And Kelly feared that she wouldn’t be able to resist him for much longer. And then what? What was his plan? Was it all about the conquest? Or did he want something more?
Until she knew the answers to those questions, maintaining that physical distance wasn’t just smart but necessary.
But once again, Jackson thwarted her plans, coming in the back door just as Kelly was spooning leftover rice and stir-fry into a container.
“Dinner,” she told him. “If you’re hungry.”
“You ate early tonight.”
She nodded. “I promised to take Ava and Laurel to the fair, and they wanted to get there as soon as possible.”
“I almost forgot the fair was this weekend,” he said. “Can I tag along?”
She eyed him warily. “It’s a Friday night, Jackson. Don’t you have a date?”
“You know there’s only one woman I want to go out with—” he lifted his hand and skimmed his knuckles gently down her cheek “—and she keeps turning me down.”
She swatted his hand away, refusing to let herself be charmed by his easy smile. “Save your charm for someone who’s interested.”
“You’re interested, but you’re scared.”
“You don’t scare me.”
“So why won’t you go out with me?”
“Because I already have plans,” she reminded him.
“I’m just asking to tag along.”
“If I let you tag along, it’s not a date.”
“What is it?”
“It’s me letting you tag along.”
“What if I buy you cotton candy?” he asked hopefully.
“Still not a date,” she said firmly.
“What if I take you on the Ferris wheel?”
Kelly shook her head. “I hate the Ferris wheel.”
“Really?”
She glanced away, embarrassed to have admitted to such a weakness. “I’m not fond of heights.”
“What if I put my arm around you and held you close?” He slid an arm over her shoulders to demonstrate.
She shook her head. “I don’t think that would help.”
In fact, she suspected that being in close proximity to Jackson would have the opposite effect. And she knew that she was more willing to risk a turn around the giant wheel than spend thirty seconds in his arms. Because as afraid as she was of high places, she was even more afraid of her growing feelings for Jackson.
“I just want to go to the fair with you,” he said, when she remained silent.
“Then you better go get changed. We’re supposed to pick Laurel up in half an hour and I doubt you want to traipse through the barn in a designer suit.”
“I don’t traipse anywhere,” he said indignantly.
She glanced at her watch. “Twenty-nine minutes.”
He headed for the stairs, already loosening his tie.
* * *
Jack did buy her cotton candy, and a glass of cold-pressed apple cider. And he indulged the girls’ every wish and whim, buying them tickets for the Zipper, the Ferris wheel, the Tidal Wave, and the Tempest—and then more tickets so they could ride them all again. While Ava and Laurel conquered the midway rides, Jack and Kelly wandered through the barn to check out the livestock exhibits and agricultural displays.
Jackson seemed to know almost everyone in Pinehurst, and every time they turned a corner, they were bumping into someone else who wanted to say hello.
He’d always been popular, but she realized now that he was also respected and well-liked. As a teenager, he’d earned a reputation for being arrogant, talented and capricious. Now it seemed that he was knowledgeable, successful and steadfast, and Kelly wasn’t sure what to think of the apparent changes.
He introduced her to Gord Adamson, a colleague who was at the fair with his wife and their two kids, Pete, his mechanic, and Reginald, a security guard at the courthouse. But it was an exchange with Mrs. Cammalleri that really opened Kelly’s eyes.
Kelly had paused to peruse the assortment of fudge for sale when the elderly woman behind the table called out to Jackson. He obediently responded to the summons, and she pulled his head down to kiss both of his cheeks before she asked, “What kind of fudge do you want?”
He looked at Kelly. “What’s your favorite?”
“Rocky Road.”
The old woman eyed Kelly appraisingly. “She’s with you?”
He nodded. “Yeah, this is Kelly. Kelly—Mrs. Cammalleri.”
Mrs. Cammalleri smiled at Kelly and rattled off a bunch of Italian as she cut a thick slice of Rocky Road fudge and wrapped it in plastic. Then she added an equally thick slice of Peanut Butter Cup, no doubt because she knew that was Jackson’s favorite. Her hands were wrinkled and spotted, but their movements were steady and sure. She put both pieces of fudge in a paper bag and passed it across the table to him. He gave it to Kelly and reached for his wallet.
Mrs. Cammalleri shook her head. “A gift,” she said. “Because you’re a good man, Jackson Garrett.”
He looked around, as if afraid that someone might overhear. “Don’t be spreading rumors like that, Mrs. C,” he chided.
She chuckled and swatted at him playfully. “He was a bad boy, but he’s a good man,” she said to Kelly now. “A good man needs a good woman. A family.”
“I’m working on that, Mrs. C,” Jackson told her.
But the old woman stayed focused on Kelly. “Don’t make him work too hard,” she advised.
Kelly left the table with the bag of fudge in hand, feeling a little baffled and a lot confused by the brief exchange.
“Are you going to tell me what that was about?” she asked Jackson.
He seemed almost as embarrassed by her quietly spoken question as he’d been by the older woman’s exuberant greeting.
“She had a little bit of a legal problem a couple of years back.”
“What kind of problem?”
“I can’t share the details—lawyer-client confidentiality.”
“I bet Mrs. C would be happy to tell me.”
He sighed. “It was just a small claims thing.”
“I didn’t know you did small claims.”
“It’s not a big part of my practice, but every once in a while, there’s a case that piques my interest.”
She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew why he was being deliberately vague with the details. “You do pro bono work.”
He shrugged. “I originally signed up because it sounded like a sexual thing.”
But she knew his easy response was a cover. He’d frequently joked that he got into the practice of law because he wanted to make as much money as his brother without the hassle of being summoned to the hospital at all hours. But just last week, she’d woken up in the night and found him pounding away on the keyboard of his laptop at 3:00 a.m. Apparently he’d gotten a call from a client whose estranged spouse had refused to bring the kids home, so he’d been preparing the necessary documentation for an emergency motion the next morning.
“You are a good man, Jackson Garrett,” she said, echoing Mrs. Cammalleri’s words.
He scowled. “Give me some of that fudge.”
* * *
They nibbled on the sweet concoction as they wandered through the tables set up to display the wares of the arts and crafts vendors, and they got back to the midway in time to see that Ava and Laurel were joining the Ferris wheel line for the third time.
“I think they would go all night if we let them.”
“I have nowhere else that I need to be,” Jack assured her.
“I promised Laurel’s parents that I would have her home by midnight.”
“Then we’ll make sure she’s home by midnight,” he agreed.
“She’s a good kid.”
“What’s the basis for your assessment—the fact that she doesn’t have piercings or tattoos?”
“That’s a factor,” she admitted.
“Newsflash—she has holes in her ears.”
Kelly rolled her eyes. “Notwithstanding that fact, I’m glad Ava found her.”
“Sometimes we luck out with the people we meet in life,” he said, putting his hands on her hips and drawing her closer.
She didn’t resist, at least not too much, but her eyes were wide and wary.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked gently.
This time she didn’t deny that she was. “I’m afraid that we’re both trying to make this into something it isn’t.”
“I think we both know that it’s something,” he said, and touched his mouth to hers.
She stayed perfectly still, not leaning in but not pulling away, either. So he kissed her again, softly, slowly, thoroughly, determined to savor the moment. Her lips were warm and soft and sweetly responsive.
He tasted the fudge she’d been eating—dark and rich and temptingly sinful. His hand skimmed up her back, his fingers tangling in the ends of he
r long, silky tresses, dragging her head back to deepen the kiss. Her tongue touched his, tentatively at first, then again, more boldly.
Desire pulsed through his veins, roared in his blood, drowning out the sounds of the crowd all around them. There was something about kissing Kelly that had always felt so incredibly intimate. As if there was a connection not just between their lips but their souls.
A connection that was violently severed by a three-foot whirling dervish wielding a candy apple like a sword.
Their teeth bumped, their foreheads collided.
“I’m so sorry.” The apology was tossed over her shoulder as the child’s mother continued her harried pursuit.
Jack swore; Kelly giggled.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close again, but he only touched his lips to her forehead this time.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he warned her.
“You know it goes both ways.”
“I didn’t know.” His lips curved. “But I was hoping.”
“We have to get Laurel home,” she reminded him.
“Sooner or later, we’re going to finish this.”
She could only nod.
“And my vote’s for sooner rather than later,” he said.
“I’ll take that into consideration.”
* * *
When Georgia came to the door in response to Jack’s knock, she had a baby in her arms and two puppies at her feet.
“Since when do you knock?” she said, in lieu of a greeting.
He kissed her cheek. “Since my brother doesn’t live alone anymore.”
“Afraid I might be walking around in the buff or something?” she teased, stepping away from the door so that he could enter.
“Or something.” He bent down to pat Finn and Fred so they would stop trying to climb up his legs for attention. “Where’s Matt?”
“At the hospital. But he should be home soon.”
“That’s okay—I wanted to talk to you, if you’ve got a few minutes.”
“I would love some adult conversation,” she assured him.
He held up the two bags in his hand. “I brought the boys some kettle corn from the fair.”
“They’ll be ecstatic,” she said. “If there’s any left when they get back.”
His Long-Lost Family Page 17