know what had precipitated the move, or what Kelly’s daughter thought about her decision. He couldn’t imagine that it was easy for a kid to be uprooted from everything that was familiar and moved clear across the country.
He glanced in the rearview mirror again. Kelly’s daughter was a beautiful girl, with long, dark hair just like her mother—aside from the purple streaks, of course. Her eyes were a similar shape, too, and fringed with long, sooty lashes. But the color of her eyes was different. Kelly’s eyes were the warm, golden color of aged whiskey; Ava’s were a clear, emerald green.
He stole another glance, trying to figure out what it was about the child that made him uneasy.
“I guess Ava will be attending Parkdale,” he said now.
“That’s the plan,” Kelly agreed. “I just hope she’s lucky enough to make the kind of friends that I made at school there.”
“It must have been difficult for her, leaving Seattle.”
“It would have been more difficult if we’d stayed.”
It was a surprising revelation from a woman who had previously volunteered no information about her reason for the move across the country. But she didn’t say anything else, and though he was curious, he didn’t press for any details.
Instead, as they passed the elementary school, he said, “You’ll be happy to know that Mrs. Vanderheide finally retired a couple years ago.”
She smiled. “That is good news—at least for Ava.”
“And for all future generations of seventh graders,” he agreed. “Which was proven by the fact that almost all of Pinehurst turned out for her retirement party at the school. She thought they were all there to celebrate her forty years of teaching, but I think everyone just wanted to make sure that she really was retiring.”
The sensuous sound of her soft chuckle heated his blood.
Ancient history, he reminded himself again.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and turned onto Larkspur Drive, grateful the journey was almost at its end.
“This is it,” he said, pulling into a wide asphalt driveway beside the two-story saltbox-style house. He noticed that there were lights on at both the front and back doors— no doubt Matt’s wife wanted the place to look warm and welcoming, and it did.
“Georgia said she would leave a key in the mailbox,” he told Kelly now. “She also wanted you to know that they had a cleaning company come in yesterday to give the whole house a thorough once-over and that she was in today to inspect and put clean sheets on the beds.”
“I’ll have to remember to thank her for that,” she said. “Because right now, I’m tired enough to fall face down on any horizontal surface.”
He shifted into park and glanced in the rearview mirror again. “Apparently your daughter doesn’t need to be horizontal.”
Kelly turned to look at Ava, who had fallen asleep with her head against the window. Since the days when she could carry her slumbering child were likely long gone, he wasn’t surprised when she reached back to tap the girl’s shoulder. “Wake up, Ava. We’re home.”
He was surprised by her use of the word home, and he frowned as it echoed in his head. It seemed strange to him that, after being gone for more than fifteen years, Kelly would still refer to Pinehurst as home. He hadn’t known if this was a temporary relocation or a permanent move, and he refused to admit that it mattered. He could have asked Luke, of course. No doubt his brother was privy to all of the details of her plans. But asking Luke anything about Kelly when he’d been so careful not to mention her name for so long would undoubtedly trigger more questions that Jack wasn’t prepared to answer.
There was little he didn’t share with his brothers, but the fact that he’d spent a wild weekend with Kelly Cooper was a secret he’d kept for thirteen years—and one that he had no intention of revealing now.
Chapter Two
While Kelly roused her daughter, Jack retrieved their luggage from the trunk. He took the suitcases upstairs, setting the one with Kelly’s name on it in the biggest room and her daughter’s in the room directly across the hall. A quick glance at the tag gave him pause.
He couldn’t remember the name of the guy Kelly had married, but regardless of whether or not she’d taken his name, he would have expected their child to have it. But the tag read Ava Cooper—and it made him think again about the reasons for Kelly’s divorce and her decision to move Ava so far away from Seattle.
Reminding himself that it was none of his business, he headed back down the stairs and, following the sound of voices, into the kitchen.
“You’re only asking for mushrooms because you know I don’t like them,” Kelly said.
“I’m asking for mushrooms because I do like them and that’s what I want on my pizza,” her daughter insisted.
“Well, no one else does, so we’re not getting them.”
He knew he shouldn’t get involved and he had no intention of staying, but Jack heard himself say, “I like mushrooms.”
Ava looked at her mother, her smile more than a little smug. Kelly didn’t look annoyed; she looked…unnerved. Which didn’t make any sense to him at all.
“And bacon?” Ava queried.
“And bacon,” he confirmed.
“Fine, I’ll get half with bacon and mushrooms,” Kelly relented. Then she looked at Jack. “Which means that you’re staying for pizza.”
“If you’d told me you were hungry, I could have stopped somewhere on the way from the airport,” he told her.
“I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.”
“Then you should order from Marco’s—they deliver and they’re quick.”
He gave her the number, and while Kelly made the call, Ava ventured upstairs to check out her new room and start unpacking. After pizza was ordered, Kelly took a look around. She’d seen photos and even videos of the house before signing the lease, but she wanted to see everything up close. Jack opted to respond to some email messages on his BlackBerry while she explored.
She was back in less than ten minutes, and obviously pleased with everything she’d seen. “Lukas told me the place was furnished, but I didn’t expect it to be so well equipped. There are pots and pans and dishes and cutlery in the kitchen—and even toilet paper in each of the bathrooms. Something else I’ll have to thank Georgia for, because I didn’t think to pack any of that in my suitcase.”
“I’d be surprised if you had room,” Jack said. “Considering that you each only brought one suitcase and one carry-on.”
“I prefer to travel light, but there’s a lot more to come. It just seemed easier—and cheaper—to ship the rest rather than pay the airline fees for extra baggage.”
“Makes sense,” he agreed.
But
