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“Ohh! Pwetty.”
Jessy’s face softened and she gave the toddler a gentle hug. “Yes, but not as pretty as you. What are you going to call her?”
For once, Chloe didn’t hesitate. Lifting her chin she said clearly, “Belle.”
“Mmm.” Jessy directed an amused look at the TV, then glanced over at him. “Figures,” she said conspiratorially.
Shane tensed. Not only didn’t he have the first idea what she was referring to, but for a second there, as he watched her warm, spontaneous interaction with Chloe, he’d been suddenly, starkly reminded of just what it was he’d lost.
Irritated—just what the hell was wrong with him?—he paced over to the window, struggling to get a grip on himself.
“Shane? Is everything okay?”
The quiet question jerked him around. “Yeah, of course,” he said brusquely. “I was just thinking there are some things we need to discuss.”
“Okay.” Settling deeper into the sofa, she crossed one long, slim leg over the other and waited.
He pushed away the last remnant of unwanted emotion and forced himself to concentrate. “First, what days do you want off?”
She looked surprised. “Gosh, I don’t know. I just got here. Can’t we play it by ear?”
He shook his head. “No. I need to know so I can make other arrangements.”
She bit her lip thoughtfully. “Well... Why don’t you plan on me taking care of Chloe at least through next weekend to start with, then? That way you don’t have to worry about making other plans, and I’ll have some time to see how things go. We can discuss it again after I have a better idea of what’s involved.”
Shane didn’t like it, but he could see her point. “All right.”
“Good.” She smiled. “What else?”
“Your salary. I’m not sure what you have in mind, but I thought maybe...twenty-five hundred a month?”
Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
“Make it three thousand, then.”
She made a low sound of protest and shook her head. “Shane—no.”
“No what?”
“Just...no. I appreciate the offer, but my teaching job pays me more than adequately during the summer. Besides, you’re doing me a favor, remember? Thanks to you, I’ve got a few months to look for a place to live.”
He stared at her earnest face, then realized he should have expected this. Jessy always had been a quixotic, kindhearted kid. She was the sort of person who cried over old movies, worried about stray puppies, championed the oppressed and defended the downtrodden. It was just like her to selflessly donate her time to an old family friend.
Except that he didn’t want her help—much less these little ripples of feeling she kept causing in him.
Yeah? Well, you’re not doing this for you, remember? You’re doing it for Chloe, so she can have some of the emotional security you’re incapable of giving her.
That didn’t mean he had to be here, however.
The realization brought him up short. He thought about it for a handful of seconds, then came to a sudden decision. “All right,” he said abruptly. “If that’s the way you feel.” Why argue about money? He’d simply decide on a sum and give it to her later. No doubt she’d be more inclined to take it once the reality of the situation caught up with her good intentions.
Besides, he was now anxious to move on to other things. “Look. Why don’t I show you where the phone list and the emergency kit are, then you can see your room and the rest of the house. That way I can help you get your car unloaded before I have to go.”
Jessy’s surprise was obvious. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah. I need to go into the office for a few hours.”
“Oh.” She gave him an indecipherable look, then slowly nodded. “I see. All right.” She stood and held out her arms to Chloe. “Come on, cupcake. You can keep us company while your daddy shows me around, okay?”
The toddler hesitated, clutching her doll to her chest. “Baby, too?”
Jessy nodded. “Baby, too.”
Chloe still didn’t move. Then, apparently suffering a belated attack of shyness, she scooted off the couch, scampered over to Shane and pressed herself against his legs. “Want Dada,” she mumbled.
“Chlo—” Shane remonstrated.
The little girl buried her face against his knees, refusing to look at either adult.
Shane stared down at her small blond head. Part of him wanted to lift her up and hold her tight, to breathe in her sweet baby scent and assure her that Daddy was there and everything was going to be all right.
And part of him wanted to step away.
“It’s all right,” Jessy said, misunderstanding. “Really.”
But it wasn’t. It was never going to be all right again, he thought savagely, clenching his jaw against a jab of self-disgust. Totally out of patience with himself, he reached down and swung Chloe up, settling her securely in the crook of one arm. “It’s okay, peanut,” he murmured. Raising his voice, he looked over at Jessy and said coolly, “I guess we’re ready.”
She nodded, but the questioning look he was already starting to hate was back in her eyes. “Okay.”
He glanced away. He was just tired, he told himself. He’d go to the office for a few hours, come home and get some sleep and tomorrow, or the next day, when the strangeness of the situation had worn off, he’d have himself back under control.
Not that it mattered. Because the truth was, he’d gladly give up his control, this house, even TopLine itself, if he could only go back to the time before he’d learned Chloe wasn’t his daughter.
Two
“Elvis,” Jessy murmured as she stood at the front window and watched Shane’s car pull out of the driveway, “has left the building.” She glanced at her wristwatch, struggling against a sense of disbelief.
It was a little after five o’clock, not quite three hours since she’d arrived.
She asked herself what she’d expected. That Shane would stick around, maybe keep an eye on Chloe while she unpacked? That they’d sit down to some sort of dinner and talk—about his schedule, about who was going to tackle which housekeeping tasks, about Chloe’s wants, needs, likes and dislikes, fears and foibles?
Or, better yet, that he’d suddenly break down and confess he was glad she was there?
Well... Yeah.
The admission prompted a slight, self-deprecating smile. Get a grip, Jessica. You volunteered to do this, remember? It certainly wasn’t Shane’s idea. And if his behavior is any indication, he isn’t exactly overcome with joy at having you join his household.
Of course, now that she’d seen the house in question, she could understand his reticence.
She turned, giving a theatrical shiver as she surveyed the living and dining rooms. Like the rest of the interior, they were done predominantly in white—carpeting, walls, woodwork and blinds. Also like the rest of the interior, they had high ceilings and windows that were strategically located to maximize the various views of the surrounding woods and lake.
Jessy could see that the place had potential. Yet all that white, plus the absolute lack of such personal objects as artwork, keepsakes or photographs—not to mention such fundamentals as furniture—made it about as cozy as a glacier. She supposed she was biased, accustomed as she was to the clutter, color and organized chaos of her classroom, but to her mind it was definitely not the sort of warm, homey place best suited to raising a child.
But then, from what she could tell, Shane wasn’t exactly trying to get himself voted Father of the Year, she reminded herself as she padded across the living room and stepped into the hall.
Jessy shook her head and admitted she didn’t understand it. Not from Shane, who’d been the rock her own childhood had been built on.
After her mother had walked out on them, she, Bailey and their dad had relocated from Denver to Churchill, which at the time had been just another small town outside of Seattle. For Jessy, the move had meant the loss of everything dear and familiar: her home, school and friends, her grandparents and her cousins. Even worse, her father had been extremely bitter about the desertion. He’d shut everyone out and buried himself in his new job, too caught up in his own feelings to pay much attention to anyone else’s.
Bailey, on the other hand, had acted as if nothing had happened—except that he would walk away from the conversation anytime their mom was mentioned. At seventeen, he’d put all his energy into building a new life at his new school with his new friends, and because he was smart, athletic and exceedingly handsome, he’d been almost immediately accepted. That had left Jessy all by herself—bereft, bewildered and lonesome.
She’d heard about Shane for weeks before she finally met him. He’d been Bailey’s new best friend, so she’d known he was captain of the football team and student body president, that he made straight A’s and dated only the prettiest, most popular girls. He’d sounded so perfect, she’d been fairly sure she wouldn’t like him. Not that it would matter. If he was anything like the rest of her brother’s friends, he probably wouldn’t even notice that she existed.
Still, as luck would have it, their first meeting took place following her most disastrous day at school ever. She’d failed her math test, lost her book report, then gone without lunch because her dad had again forgotten to go to the grocery store. Things hadn’t gotten any better when Bailey had failed to pick her up after school the way he was supposed to, either. The class bully had pushed her in a mud puddle on her way home, causing her to skin her knees and tear her favorite dress. And as if that weren’t bad enough, when she finally did make it home, she’d found her brother was entertaining half the football team, while a note from her dad had said he wouldn’t be home until late.
It had been too much. Too proud to cry in front of a bunch of teenage boys, she’d made it as far as the big tree in their backyard before she’d sunk to the ground and let the tears overwhelm her. It hadn’t been pretty. She’d cried until her eyes were puffy, her throat was raw and her nose was runny.
The latter had become a definite problem once the worst of the emotional storm had passed. Hiccuping painfully, she’d been lamenting her lack of a sleeve when a beautifully timbered voice had said softly, “Here. Take this.”
Her eyes had flown open and she’d found herself staring at a wad of fresh tissues, held by a handsome stranger with soot black hair and the kindest, most beautiful gray eyes she’d ever seen.
For a moment all she could do was stare at him. Then, miserably aware he must think she was the biggest baby ever, she’d mumbled a thank-you, taken the tissue and carefully blown her nose, refusing to meet his gaze. Instead she’d just sat there, too mortified to do or say anything.
To her surprise, after a moment he’d sat down beside her, his hard, warm shoulder touching hers as if they’d known each other forever. “Tough day, huh?”
She’d nodded, swallowing around the fresh lump in her throat at the unexpected sympathy in his voice.
“You must be Jessy,” he’d said. “I’m Shane. One of Bailey’s friends.”
“Oh,” she’d said stupidly.
He hadn’t seemed to notice that in addition to being a crybaby, she was also a moron. Instead he’d leaned back on his hands, nodded in the direction of her raw knees and said casually, “So...is there somebody you want me to beat up for you?”
She’d been so stunned by the offer she’d forgotten her swollen eyes and red nose and turned to look at him. “You’d do that for me?”
He’d shrugged, and her heart had felt a little lighter as she’d seen the sudden spark of laughter in his eyes. “Sure. I don’t have a little sister of my own. It would be my pleasure.”
That had been the start of an unlikely friendship that had sustained her through the next ten years. One way or another, Shane had always been there when she needed him. When she’d tripped and broken her wrist at sixth-grade graduation, he’d been the one who’d kept her company while the doctor set the fracture. When she’d gotten braces and grown five inches freshman year, it had been Shane who’d assured her she wasn’t a freak. He’d taught her how to play pool, shoot a basket and cheat at poker. He’d listened when she needed to talk about her mother, and shown up with the world’s hokiest horror movie when she didn’t have a date for the prom. He’d brought laughter and security back to her life and she’d adored him for it.
Like the naive child she was, she’d thought he would be there for her forever. In some romantic, unrealistic part of her mind, she’d believed she and Shane were destined to be together, that he’d wait for her until she grew up. So even though she’d known he was dating Marissa Larson, a petite, ultrafeminine blonde who was everything she wasn’t, she’d been totally devastated when Shane had announced his engagement ten days before she was scheduled to leave for college.
She could smile about it now, but it had taken her a considerable amount of time to put it in perspective and accept that her love for Shane had been a childhood kind of thing. She shook her head, remembering.
Still, it didn’t really matter. Whatever name she put on what she’d felt for him in the past—true love, childish crush, teen idolization—it didn’t change the fact that she considered him one of the best friends she’d ever had.
Or that this was her chance to pay him back for all the years he’d stood by her.
She reentered the family room, where Chloe was once again parked in front of the TV set watching a video. All alone, with her thumb in her mouth and her long silky lashes looking like miniature fans every time she blinked, she was the picture of defenseless innocence. Jessy slowed her pace, startled by the strength of the protective urge that swept through her at the sight of that sweet little face.
A sudden sense of purpose filled her. Shane might have taken off, but Chloe was here—and definitely in need of an adult she could count on. Making her voice light and cheerful, she said, “Hey, sweetie. I was thinking. It’s a beautiful day out.” She approached the child and tried to look reassuring. “How would you like to go for a walk before dinner?”
The toddler glanced over, appeared to consider, then said uncertainly, “’Kay.”
“It’ll be fun,” Jessy promised. “We can take some bread and see if we can’t find some ducks to feed down at the lake.”
The child perked up, climbing to her feet with a sudden look of interest. “Duckies go quack-quack.”
“Yes, they do.” Jessy ejected the video, turned everything off and held out her hand. “You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”
Chloe hesitated, then took a few steps and tentatively laid her soft little hand in Jessy’s. Looking up through her lashes, she nodded.
Jessy’s heart melted, while her resolve hardened. Don’t worry, baby. One way or another, whether he likes it or not, I’m going to chase those shadows from your daddy’s eyes. After all, as Shane himself had taught her, that was what friends were for.
She smiled down at his daughter. “Come on, kiddo. We’re going to have some fun. I promise.”
“Good morning,” Jessy said cheerfully.
She watched with distinct satisfaction as Shane rocked to a halt in the doorway that led from the hall into the kitchen. In the split second before his expression smoothed out, his dismay at finding her already up at such an early hour was obvious.
His lack of composure didn’t last long. “Good morning,” he returned brusquely. Resplendent in a crisp white shirt and a beautifully cut gray linen suit that set off his inky hair and his olive-toned skin to perfection, he came the rest of the way into the room. He set the morning newspaper on the breakfast bar. “What are you doing up?”
She gave a little shrug. “I heard you come in from your run, and since I was wide-awake, I decided I might as well get up and put the coffee on.”
“Huh.” He pulled out a stool, sat and opened the newspaper, effectively dismissing her.
So what else was new? she asked herself, struck once again by the immense change in him. It had been after midnight when he finally came home that first night, and he’d been gone again before seven the next morning, a pattern that had repeated itself in the three days since. Except for a photocopy of his schedule that he left her each morning, Jessy’s chief contact with him was by phone. As if to prove he wasn’t completely irresponsible, he called every day to ask how things were going.
She swallowed a rude sound and turned to watch the coffee as it slowly filled the pot. Although she hadn’t expected him to suddenly decide he was overjoyed by her presence, neither had she expected him to avoid his own home as if it were infested by the plague just because she was in it.
But he had. He was. And she’d had enough. After three days of thinking about it, she’d decided it was time to get tough.
In the nicest possible way, of course.
The coffeepot gave a last sputter, indicating it was done. She looked over at Shane. “The coffee’s ready. Would you like a cup?”
He was silent a moment, then glanced up. “Sure.”
She got a mug from the cupboard, filled it with coffee, added some creamer and set it down beside him.
“Thanks.” He went back to the paper.
“You’re welcome.” She took a moment to study him, taking in the firm line of his freshly shaven jaw, the inky blackness of his thick eyelashes, the latent sensuality of his mouth.
He shifted, raising the paper higher and she glanced away, feeling the oddest little ache. Giving herself a mental shake—what was that all about?—she crossed to the other counter and went back to the batter she’d been putting together when he walked in. She checked the recipe, added the last few ingredients, then picked up the bowl and a wire whisk and began to stir. After a few moments, she turned. Resting her backside against the counter, she glanced at Shane. “I hate to bother you,” she lied, “but I have a favor to ask.”
“Yeah? What?”
Although she couldn’t see anything except his hands and the top of his dark head, she sensed his sudden tension. “Well...I wondered if you’d mind if I got my table and chairs out of storage and brought them over. It’s not that I don’t like eating at the counter,” she explained. “It’s just that it’s the wrong height for Chloe’s high chair and meals would be so much easier if—”
