with Everett or Kyle.”
“Perhaps there’s something I can—”
“I need to see your father.”
“I’d be happy to schedule an appointment for Monday.” She did her best to keep her tone cheerful despite his terse responses. She’d warn her dad, of course, so he wouldn’t be caught unprepared.
Cody exhaled a resigned breath. “First thing Monday morning then.”
She opened the scheduling software program. “Nine-thirty?”
“There’s nothing earlier?”
You’d have thought she’d suggested high noon. He’d been an early riser as a kid, with chores to see to before he came to school. Maybe old habits died hard?
“Dad often works late in the evening with clients, so yes, nine-thirty is customary.”
“Fine.”
He didn’t sound as though it were fine, but she typed his name into the database. “May I let him know what the appointment concerns?”
“He’ll know.”
Did he have to sound so confrontational? That wouldn’t go over well with Dad. It didn’t go over well with her, either. Cody might never have had much patience with those in authority, but he’d always been more than polite with her.
As if coming to the same realization, he nodded toward the computer, his tone softening. “I mean, he’ll know I’m here about my father’s situation. I need to find out where things stand regarding his employment status and medical benefits.”
She nodded and made the note. When she glanced up, he was watching her with that look that had been typical of Cody since the first day she’d met him. Self-consciously she ran her tongue along her lower lip. Across the scar.
“Well, you’re all set,” she said with a businesslike clip to her words. “Nine-thirty on Monday morning.”
“Thank you.” He placed his ball cap on his head, zipped his jacket and started to turn away. Then he paused to look down at her once again. “So you’re filling in here while visiting Canyon Springs over the Thanksgiving holiday?”
“I live here. I’m a real estate agent.”
His expression darkened slightly.
“Was there something else?” She held her breath, the pulse in her throat racing as his gaze lingered, indecision flickering through his eyes.
“No.” He shook his head. “Have a good rest of your day, Paris.”
And then he was gone, the sleigh bells chiming a farewell as the door closed behind him.
Exhaling, she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes.
Cody Hawk had returned to town.
But he wouldn’t be here for long. He’d made that clear. He had family business to take care of, then would disappear into the night as he’d done a dozen years ago. Thankfully, he hadn’t attempted to express condolences for the death of her fiancé. Nor had he made reference to their last meeting.
When he’d confessed he loved her.
She’d been certain he intended to kiss her that night and, to her shame, she’d wanted him to. But when she’d come to her senses and rejected the outpouring of his heart—as her father would have expected of her—he’d had the audacity to claim that one day he’d return to town and she’d beg him to marry her.
She hurried to the windows to peek between the wooden-louvered slats at a departing Cody. Collar turned up against the wind-driven snow and hands rammed in his jacket pockets, he crossed the street with that same mesmerizing, masculine grace he’d grown into as a teen. He’d been all male from adolescence onward and even the nice girls noticed. But while a nice girl might dream a dangerous dream, in a little town like this she wouldn’t dare throw away her—and her family’s—reputation for a boy with kin like Cody’s.
Paris herself had been more than aware of him those many years ago, aware of his slow, lazy smile and barely-under-the-surface interest evidenced in the way he looked at her. That look had both excited and frightened her youthful heart, for he was a Hawk. Forbidden territory for a Perslow.
She abruptly stepped back from the window, irritated at herself for gawking after the still-enticing man. She was twenty-eight years old now. He was what—thirty? He’d been living his life elsewhere, doing who knew what, far from the vigilant eyes of Canyon Springs. He’d probably been up to no good, just like his father and older half brothers. Dad always said even a shiny apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
But that didn’t mean it wasn’t tempting.
She returned to the Christmas tree where she picked up another ornament. She wasn’t a teenager now, given to indulging in silly daydreams. Cody would soon be gone and his return to Canyon Springs a mere blip on the radar of her life.
With an air of resolve, she slipped a hook into the ornament loop and placed it on the end of a branch. But before she could react, the too-fragile needles bent, sending the decorative glass ball tumbling to the hardwood floor where it shattered at her feet.
Cody strode to the old Dodge pickup, jerked open the door and climbed inside. Then he slammed the door and sat staring blindly out the snow-streaked windshield.
It was clear Paris couldn’t wait to send him on his way. He couldn’t blame her. How old had she been back then—almost sixteen? He’d been nearly eighteen and old enough to know better than to do what he’d done that night. He could still hear her soft gasp when he’d stepped out of the shadows where she’d been relaxing on the porch swing. He’d been desperate to speak to her before he left town, daring to risk being caught by her father.
Looking back, he was lucky she hadn’t called the cops.
And yet...for a fleeting moment, he thought he’d seen something in her eyes that sustained him with a glimmer of hope despite her firm but gentle turndown. It kept him going as he endeavored to turn his life around and become a man worthy of a woman like Paris. That is, until the day four years ago when he’d come across her engagement announcement on the front page of the online local paper.
Yeah, he’d been a dumb kid in more ways than one. He wasn’t that bright of an adult, either. He hadn’t spoken to Paris in twelve and a half years, yet he’d neglected to say it was good to see her. He hadn’t told her how beautiful she was. Nor could he bring himself to offer congratulations on her marriage into the Herrington clan.
Dalton Herrington.
Cody’s fists clenched involuntarily at the thought of the hotshot physician marrying Paris. But with Dalton’s professional status and upper-crust social standing in the community, he was exactly the kind of man she’d have been expected to marry. No surprises there. The future doctor had been in the same graduating class as Cody, likely finishing up medical school and heading into a residency program three and a half years ago. But even though he hadn’t been one to give Cody grief like others
