by Abby Gaines
“Maybe not,” he muttered. “If Jane Slater has been good company for you, well, I’m glad.”
Still, the thought of Micki discussing her hopes with Jane left him oddly unsettled. Not that she wasn’t free to talk to whomever she liked, but with Lissa dying and Kyle on edge about the election and about Daisy, Charles just wanted things back to normal. Jane’s departure would be a step in the right direction.
To his relief, he heard his younger son yell a greeting from the house.
“Out here,” Charles called.
Micki seemed relieved, too, going up on the balls of her feet—she wore pretty sandals instead of sneakers—and keeping her gaze on the French doors frmo which Gabe emerged a moment later.
“Gabe, great to see you,” Charles said too heartily.
Gabe gave him a curious look. “Hey, Micki.” He kissed her cheek then slung an arm around her shoulder in a way that may or may not have been platonic. Micki grinned up at him.
Charles felt a flash of annoyance toward his charming son. Micki wasn’t the kind of girl a young man should toy with. Gabe might be a pastor, but he didn’t know everything. Maybe it was time for another one of those father-son talks that hadn’t gone down too well when Gabe was eighteen.
* * *
KYLE BROKE THE NEWS about Jane’s extended stay the moment they arrived at his dad’s house—he told them Daisy hadn’t wanted Jane to go, so she’d decided to stay another month. Which was true—Kyle had just happened to omit a ton of complications in between those two points. Gabe and Micki seemed genuinely pleased Jane wasn’t leaving. Charles responded with an almost plausible, “If it makes Daisy happy, then that’s great.”
One thing about his dad, he wouldn’t lie. Wouldn’t say he personally was pleased Jane was sticking around for the sake of politeness. Kyle knew that as a cop, many of the criminals Charles had arrested had respected the store he set by the truth, even if they hated his guts.
If Charles knew how Lissa had lied and how Jane had abetted her, he’d frog-march her out of town.
Not only because of the lie, but also because of the implications of that lie. Kyle could admit his father wasn’t the most open-minded of men. Charles was a believer in “bad blood,” in the apple never falling far from the tree and other axioms that suggested if you were born into a bad family there wasn’t much hope for you.
The way Charles would see it, bad Slater blood was coursing through his granddaughter’s veins.
Much as Kyle loved his dad, he knew Charles’s standards could be hard to live up to. Jane was right—he hated even thinking that—about Daisy not needing Charles’s criticism. How much more all over Daisy’s slightest error or supposed flaw Charles would be if he knew she was part-Slater.
There’d been no mistaking Daisy’s satisfaction when Kyle had told her on the way here that Jane wasn’t leaving. Jane had explained she would put a calendar on the fridge, and they would cross off the days until she left. Presumably so Daisy wouldn’t be upset when the next departure date came up.
Couldn’t come soon enough for Kyle. He’d follow to the letter whatever cockamamie—to borrow a word from his dad—instructions Jane issued if it would get them through this time faster, and get her away from his daughter.
Who was also, biologically, her daughter.
He watched Daisy, delivering monosyllabic answers to Micki’s questions about her day. Then he switched his gaze to Jane, talking to Gabe and his dad. She seemed subdued, not baiting Charles at all.
Briefly, her gaze collided with Kyle’s, then she turned her head so he was out of her range of vision. Fine by him. He had no intention of talking to her—he didn’t trust himself not to get mad, and he didn’t want his father guessing there was a problem.
He focused again on Daisy. Sensing his interest, she looked up at him. Like Jane, she looked away again.
Daisy had brown eyes like Kyle’s, but lighter. A lot lighter. Lissa’s eyes had been blue, but everyone knew from high school biology that brown was dominant.
Now, he realized Daisy’s eyes were more...tawny.
Had she inherited her eye color from Jane? Come to think of it, Daisy’s eyes were wide-spaced, like Jane’s. And now that he looked at both of them in quick succession, he could see they had the same chin.
Hell. All of a sudden it seemed to Kyle the similarities between Jane and Daisy shone like a beacon no one could ignore. If anyone—his dad, Gabe, Micki—really looked, they would see instantly that his daughter and his ex-wife’s best friend shared a big chunk of DNA.
Suddenly hot, Kyle swiped a hand over his brow.
“You okay?” Gabe materialized beside him. Following the direction of Kyle’s gaze, he looked at Jane.
Kyle kept his gaze away from Daisy, so Gabe wouldn’t look at his daughter and see the wide-spaced eyes and matching chin. “I’m fine, just standing too close to the grill.” He took a long swig of his beer, finishing the bottle. The cooler was empty, he knew. “I’ll get another cold one from the kitchen. How about you?”
Gabe, not teetotal, but newly abstemious as a drinker, shook his head. Relieved to get away, Kyle headed to the kitchen.
“The shrimp is ready, and I’ll be in with the steaks in two minutes,” Charles called after him. “Can you get the garlic butter out of the fridge?”
Kyle waved an acknowledgment. Inside, he found the garlic butter and set it on the island. As he reached into the fridge for the beer, he heard a light, feminine footstep behind him. Jane, come to issue another ultimatum? He spun around. “Don’t start—”
He stopped. It was Micki. She raised her eyebrows at his tone.
“Sorry,” he said anyway. “Did you need something? Another beer?”
“In a minute. Right now, I need something else.” Micki, always briskly confident in her domain at the Eating Post, sounded nervous.
Kyle closed the fridge. “What’s that?”
“Do you remember in high school—your sophomore year—when you asked Jenny Swain on a date?” She fidgeted with the ring she wore on her middle finger, as if she were still in high school herself.
“Not the kind of humiliation a guy forgets,” he joked. He’d had a massive crush on Jenny, who at fifteen had been two inches taller than he was and ten years more sophisticated. When he’d asked her on a date, she’d laughed at him then told all of her friends. Who’d also laughed.
Kyle had been unsure what was worse, the broken heart or the embarrassment. Micki had found him behind the gymnasium, kicking at the dirt, cursing girls in general and Jenny in particular.
“I helped you out then, right?” she said.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, you did.” He hadn’t thought about that day in years. Micki had listened to his woes with a sympathetic ear...but that wasn’t all. When Kyle had finished railing against the fairer sex, accidentally admitting that he’d never kissed a girl and had planned to rectify that with Jenny, Micki had said casually, “You can kiss me if you want.”
He’d been speechless. Micki was a senior, dating one of the guys on the football team. She was generally regarded as at least mildly hot, though their families had known each other too long for Kyle to think of her that way.
“K-kiss you,” he’d answered at last, stupidly.
“Sure, why not? You know, for practice. Confidence.” She moved closer, and he caught a hint of flowery perfume. She chuckled. “You’re looking doubtful, Kyle, which is almost as insulting as what Jenny did to you.”
&nb
sp; “No.” His voice cracked in a way it hadn’t done in months. “I mean, yes, I’d like to. I’d love to. Please.”
“Mmm, much better. Girls like a polite boy.” Micki leaned in and down and kissed him. After a few moments, Kyle got the hang of things—she told him to go easy when he tried to put too much Hollywood into it—and the kiss became a thoroughly enjoyable event. For him, at least, and Micki had seemed happy enough. He’d gone back to class with a swagger that disconcerted Jenny and soon got him a new girlfriend. He and Micki had never tried anything like that again.
Now she said, “I want you to help me out the same way.”
“What?” His voice cracked, just as it had when he was fifteen.
She glanced over her shoulder, checking they were alone. “You owe me.”
“For a make-out session twenty years ago?” He scrubbed the back of his head with his fist. “Micki, I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”
She rolled her eyes. “I want a kiss, Kyle, in return for the one I gave you. That’s all. And I want it now.”
“This isn’t a good time.” It was bad enough that he had to be here with a woman he despised, who happened to be the spitting image of his daughter. No way did he want to complicate the evening by kissing Micki.
Micki moved around the island. It took all of the good manners his father had taught him not to retreat.
“Now,” she said firmly. “No one will see.”
“Can I ask why?” He held his beer bottle in front of him, as if it was some kind of antivamp talisman. “After all, you knew why I wanted you to kiss me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say, it’s time.”
“Have you considered internet dating?” he asked. Maybe the bachelor pool in Pinyon Ridge wasn’t huge, but in the wider county...
“One kiss, Kyle,” she said, impatient. “Is that too much to ask?”
Her no-nonsense tone reassured him that, whatever this was about, it wasn’t a sudden attraction to him.
“Of course not,” he said.
“Then could you hurry up?”
She was right, he owed her. Kyle always paid his debts. He put his hands to her hips.
Micki closed her eyes and squared her shoulders, as if bracing herself. Which wasn’t exactly inspiring. Kyle half shook his head, then gave in and got on with the job. His mouth met hers.
Micki wrapped her arms around his neck and responded with more skill than enthusiasm. No sparks for him, and he was pretty sure not for her, either. This kiss must be about her worrying that she was going rusty...poor Micki, he had no idea her love life was so dire.
Since Kyle liked to do a good job of anything he set his mind to, he didn’t stint, just as she hadn’t twenty years ago. His head wasn’t in it—his mind wandered to the dimensions of the office in his new house and whether it was big enough—and his heart certainly wasn’t engaged, but his lips gave good service. Presumably, she would end it when she was done.
Before they got to that point, a loud cough had them springing apart. Kyle shoved his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the counter, but it was too late to pretend nothing had happened. His father, brother and Jane all stared at them from the doorway. He knew a moment of immense gratitude when he realized that Daisy wasn’t with them.
Another cough came from his dad, then another and another until he was red in the face.
“I’ll get you some water, Charles,” Jane said. Everyone else stayed frozen as she took a glass that was draining on the counter and filled it with cold water from the faucet. She handed it to Charles, still sputtering.
“I, uh...” Kyle felt the need to explain. He glanced at Micki, who shrugged, clearly not planning to be any help. Belatedly, it occurred to him she might have been trying to get Gabe’s attention. If so, she’d succeeded. Gabe, carrying a plate laden with the freshly grilled steaks, was glancing between her and Kyle with puzzlement.
It would be churlish for Kyle to announce he’d been doing her a favor.
His gaze slid to Jane, who was now thumping his dad between the shoulder blades. Maybe harder than she needed to, but it seemed to be helping. She met his eyes, hers filled with disdain.
He knew exactly what she was thinking. That he couldn’t be too cut up about Lissa’s betrayal if he could make out with another woman five minutes later. That yet again, Daisy wasn’t his number one priority.
Wrong. And he’d tell her so, given half a chance.
For now, he offered, “Gabe, are those steaks ready?”
* * *
“HERE’S HOW THIS WILL WORK,” Jane said on Sunday night. She was sitting at the dining table in the cottage; Kyle was making coffee and Daisy was in bed. “I have a list of observations about your interactions with Daisy.” She patted the sheet of paper in front of her, on top of a manila folder of notes and other materials. “For each one, we’ll discuss how you can counter the negative impressions you’re giving her.”
Spending the weekend back in Denver had enabled Jane to literally take a step back from the mess she’d left in Pinyon Ridge. Even better, meetings with a couple of her clients had sparked invaluable insights into Kyle’s situation with Daisy that she hadn’t clued into while she was here.
In Denver, she’d realized she needed to treat this like a job, with Kyle as a client, just like any other, and get on with it. She needed to forget she was blackmailing him and that he hated her guts. Forget she didn’t like his dad, who happened to be Daisy’s grandfather. Forget she had a connection to this family that ran deeper than any of them wanted.
Forget the things Kyle had told her Lissa had said about her. Hurtful things. She couldn’t afford to be fragile.
Kyle carried the two coffees he’d just poured to the table and set one in front of Jane. “Okay.”
“Really?” She’d expected an immediate declaration that she knew nothing about him and didn’t have anything to teach him about dealing with his daughter. She’d mentally rehearsed staying calm through his attacks on her credibility.
He offered her the carton of milk. When she’d added some to her coffee, he spiked his own, then added a spoon of sugar. “We have a job to do,” he said. “Let’s get on and do it.”
She blinked. He’d just summarized her two days of deliberations in Denver. “Uh, great,” she said. “My sentiments exactly.”
Did his pragmatic approach mean he wasn’t still furious with her? Or merely that he could lock the emotion away when it wasn’t serving any purpose?
She glanced down at her sheet of paper, momentarily unable to remember her next step. “How did things go with Daisy this weekend?” she asked as she skimmed her bullet points.
“Fine.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I had a couple of events to attend as mayor on Saturday morning, and after that I took the opportunity to get some work done on the house. Daisy spent most of the weekend with my dad.”
She set down her paper. “You’re kidding.”
“Being the mayor is my job, and the house is important,” he said defensively. “It’s going to be her home. Besides, I figured you’ll have me spending a lot of time with her this week.”
“So you might as well ignore her while you can?”
His lips thinned. “Is this your usual approach with clients? Guilt them into change?”
She counted to five in her head. “Sorry,” she said. “You’re right. We’re both professionals. We can work better than this.”
It was worth the
climb-down to see the surprise on his face.
“I probably shouldn’t have left her with Dad,” he admitted.
Now she was the one who was surprised.
“But I had a lot on my mind and not much sleep, and I didn’t want to get grouchy with Daisy and make things worse than they already are.”
Jane guessed the reason for his lack of sleep was the news she’d given him about her egg donation.
He did look tired, she realized. His hands were wrapped around his coffee mug as if he could draw energy through the china, and lines of exhaustion etched from his nose to the corners of his mouth. Oddly, that hint of vulnerability, the first she’d seen in him, made him even more handsome.
“I get that you didn’t want to risk upsetting Daisy by being grouchy,” she said. “But she’d be happier knowing you want her with you, even when you’re tired. Kids are very forgiving.” At his skeptical look, she added, “I forgave my mom any amount of neglect in exchange for occasional shows of affection.”
“Which is why you stayed so close to her as an adult,” he said. No mistaking the sarcasm.
“In my case,” she said calmly, “I realized things would never change—my mom would always put my father and his sleazy schemes ahead of her kids. But Daisy has a father who’ll do anything to protect her. Who loves her. She’s lucky.”
Jane rubbed her eyes, suddenly drained herself. When she opened them again, Kyle was eyeing her speculatively.
“What?” she asked.
“What you just said. That didn’t sound like a woman who plans to destroy my daughter’s life if I don’t cooperate. You were bluffing with that threat, weren’t you?”
“No,” she said quickly.
When he looked as if he might argue, she said, “Smiling.”
He blinked. “What about it?”
“That’s the first thing you need to fix. It’s hard for Daisy to feel loved when your natural expression is a frown.” She slid her fingers beneath the top cover of her manila folder.
