What the Heart Wants (What the Heart Wants, #1)(3)

But that was sixteen years ago. What had brought Jase back to Bosque Bend? What sort of “family emergency” could possibly involve her?

She watched him deposit himself carefully on the delicately carved sofa, as if afraid it would break under his weight. He focused his gaze on her, and she took a quick breath. She’d forgotten how dark his eyes were—so black that iris and pupil seemed to blend into one. But why was he staring at her like that? Was something wrong? She glanced down at her silky white blouse. None of the buttons had come undone, and the zipper of her gray slacks was still closed tight.

He blinked, waved his hand in apology, and shifted his gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you seem so much the same. Somehow I expected you to look, well, older.”

Suddenly nervous, she pushed a heavy sheaf of dark hair back behind her ear and gave a little laugh, flattered but disbelieving. She was thirty-one years old, had been through hell, and didn’t doubt that every bit of it showed on her face.

Nothing to do but seize the conversational bull by the horns. “You said you have an emergency?”

He exhaled deeply and rubbed his fingers along the nap of the sofa. “It’s my daughter. She ran away from home this morning and left a note saying she was going to Bosque Bend to find her roots. I think she might try to contact you.”

His daughter? Jase had a child?

Through the years, Laurel’s mind had frozen him at age sixteen, standing alone against the world, her tragic lost love. The idea that he would marry one day and have a family had never even entered her head. Jase Redlander hadn’t seemed to be the type to settle down. Instead, she’d pictured him as an unshaven roughneck putting out oil fires—or maybe a steel-jawed hero fighting off a Mexican drug cartel. Year by year, he’d become a fantasy figure to her—a heroic dark knight. Certainly not a father.

He pulled a photo from his wallet. “Here’s a picture of Lolly from last year. She looks a lot older than she is, but don’t be fooled—she’s only fifteen.”

Using a thick-barreled pen, he scrawled something on the back of the picture before offering it to her. Laurel reached for it. Their fingers touched and a sizzle of awareness shot through her. The picture fell to the carpet.

Jase bent down to retrieve the photo and placed it on the rococo table beside her, his eyes catching hers for one long moment. “I’m at the old house,” he said, his voice a bit deeper. “It’s between renters right now.” His gaze moved to her mouth, and his pitch dropped even lower. “You remember it. You were there…once.”

Laurel picked the photograph up from the table, willing her hand not to tremble, and forced herself to study it. Jase was right. His daughter did look older than she had any right to, but that was how fifteen-year-old girls always looked, even when she herself was in high school. Probably back to caveman times. Lolly was lovely, just as pretty as Jase was handsome. Butter-yellow hair swooped down across her forehead, almost covering her right eye, while her pouting lips and lazy-lidded eyes were studiously sexy. Her eyebrows were long, like her father’s—Hollywood eyebrows.

But did she have her father’s smile? Jase didn’t smile often in the old days, but when he did, it was like the sun coming out—a wide, brilliant, heartbreaking grin, perhaps more effective because it was so rare.

Well, from the looks of him, he had a lot more to smile about these days.

Laurel raised her eyes from the photo and held it out to him, this time careful to avoid all contact of the flesh. He’s married. Off limits.

“If she does show up, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Jase put up a refusing hand. “No, keep it. I wrote my number on the back. Show it to your parents too, in case she comes by when you’re not here.”

Laurel froze.

“Mama and Daddy are dead.” She kept her voice steady as she placed the photo on the little table again. “I’m living here alone now, and I’m between jobs, so I spend most of my time at the house.”

Jase’s mouth opened and closed. She’d caught him by surprise. Apparently he hadn’t kept up with the goings-on in his old home town. Who could blame him? He’d been all but ridden out on a rail.

“I’m sorry about that. I’d meant to come back here sometime to visit with your dad. Reverend Ed’s support meant a lot to me. He’s the only one who believed in me through that whole mess, you know. I guess I thought he was eternal.”

Laurel shrugged. “Nothing lasts forever.” And Daddy, her wonderful Daddy, had died in spirit long before his body finally gave out. She studied the philodendron in the wicker stand beside her guest. How long had it been since she’d watered the local vegetation? And why on earth had she focused on the stupid plant? Because she didn’t want to think about Daddy.

Jase exhaled softly. “I thought maybe you were here visiting your parents, but you and Dave are living in this house now? Aunt Maxie said you two—”

“Dave Carson and I were divorced three years ago,” she interrupted. “And we didn’t have any children. I’ve been teaching music for the past six years at Lynnwood Elementary, a new school over on the east side of the river, but my contract wasn’t renewed. I’m trying to sell the house so I can get a fresh start somewhere else.”

He leaned forward to lay his big hand gently on hers. His voice was soft and comforting.