blood father after so many years…”
He nodded, lifting his face into the cold, sharp wind. “I know what you mean. I’m not real sure how I feel about it, either. But,” he said, giving a quick look over his shoulder, “it meant something to Doug, so here I am.”
“You only came here for your brother’s sake?”
“Why else?”
“To get to know your family?”
“Nah. My mother’s gone now, so my family is Doug. The rest…” He shook his head again as if he didn’t know quite what else to say.
“The Connellys are nice people,” Jennifer said, wanting him to know that this new family of his was ready and willing to welcome him.
“Seem to be.”
“They’ve been wonderful to me and Sarah.”
He gave her a slow smile. “If your daughter’s anything like you, I can’t see that that would be a hardship.”
Oh, that smile was just as dangerous as the man, she told herself, taking a mental step backward. She didn’t need this kind of complication right now. Her world was Sarah. Her attentions had to be devoted to making her little girl well again. And to help her keep her attentions focused, she knew the best thing to do was to keep her distance from this man.
“I, uh—” She glanced at the sliding glass doors with real regret. Though she knew she had to leave the balcony, she wasn’t looking forward to making small talk while her heart was aching. Still, this party was a big deal for Grant and Emma. Hadn’t Jennifer and her employer been planning it for weeks? No, heartache or not, she had to do her job. “I’d better get back inside,” she said and even she heard the reluctance in her voice.
Chance straightened away from the railing and looked from the doors to her. She wasn’t ready to go back in there and face the chattering mob. He could see it in her eyes. The vulnerability was still there, etched deep.
It was none of his business, of course, but still, he felt a kinship of sorts with her. She was a single mother, as his own mom had been. Her husband had served the public, his country, as Chance did, only he had paid the ultimate price. A rising wave of protectiveness filled him and before he could think more of it, he said, “I think the party can get along without either of us. So why don’t you let me take you home instead?”
She thought about it for a long minute, and he could see in her eyes just how much she wanted to get out of here. The question was, would she?
“As much as I’d like to,” she said, “I don’t think I should—”
“With that crowd in there, no one will even miss us.”
“Emma would.”
He acknowledged that with a brief nod. “Okay, then, we’ll stop and tell her we’re leaving. I should say thanks, anyway.”
Now that her objections were taken care of, all that was stopping her from taking him up on his offer was the fact that he was a virtual stranger—long-lost relative of her employer or not. “You can trust me,” he said softly.
Her lips twitched slightly. “It’s not that,” she said.
“Then what? I’m just offering you a ride home, not a weekend trip to Jamaica.” Why was he trying so hard to convince her? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that suddenly he needed to be the one to see her safely to her door.
She looked beyond the glass doors again to the party, and he saw her shudder. She really didn’t want to go back in there. And damned if he could blame her. He had no interest in rejoining the mob, either.
And playing on that feeling, he said, “You’d be doing me a favor.”
“What?”
He smiled. “You’d be rescuing me from mingling.”
Her lips twitched. “A fate worse than death?”
“Oh, definitely.”
She nodded, and he knew this battle was won. “Well,” she said, her decision made, “I suppose I shouldn’t turn down my one chance to be a hero.”
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