A Family Come True. Kris Fletcher

a little longer—

      Oh, no. Inheriting Sylvie’s hair and eyes was one thing. Inheriting her man-induced dizziness was quite another.

      “Okay. I’ll email you. Better run, Cady’s waking up,” she lied. “Say hi to Matteo for me. I’ll talk to you next week.”

      She ended the call quickly in case any rogue Sylvie genes were being activated by the contact, distant though it might be.

      “At least that’s behind me,” she said to the robins perched in the crab apple tree next to the porch. They didn’t seem remotely impressed with her amazing strength and fortitude.

      Though maybe that was because they were mind readers who knew that while a part of her was busy shaking her head over Sylvie, another part was reliving that quick kiss with Ian and wondering about the justice of a world where a grandmother was seeing more action than her daughter ever had.

      * * *

      SOMEWHERE IN THE TALK of Darcy coming along on this trip, Ian had forgotten one major point: the actual car ride.

      He gripped the steering wheel and tore his focus from the traffic in front of him to do one of the status checks that had become routine after three-plus hours on the road. Cady: snoozing in her car seat. Lulu: probably asleep in her crate, if the blessed lack of yipping was any indication. And Darcy: swaying in the passenger seat, singing softly to whatever was coming out of the laptop perched on her knee. In denim shorts and headphones she looked more like a college student than a hardworking mother.

      For the first time he wondered if talking her into coming along might have been a mistake. Being so close to her in the car was stirring up a crap-load of feelings, most of them pertaining to that stupid kiss. How was he supposed to prepare himself for a seriously awkward family reunion when his eyes kept drifting away from the road and over to where her shorts exposed a whole lot of leg? Long, slightly tan, totally toned leg.

      And the humidity had seized control of her hair, making it extra wavy. Each curl was like an individual finger beckoning him closer.

      And when she really got into the music, she did some motion with her shoulders that made her breasts jiggle beneath her T-shirt. All in all, being in the Mustang with her was way too dangerous, given that they were on a busy highway and he wasn’t supposed to be noticing her.

      If he could think of something to get her talking at least the seat-dancing would stop. If only his brain cells weren’t being hijacked by his—

      Thank God, right at that moment she hit a key with a flourish, punched the air and let loose with a little “yeah, yeah, yeeeeah,” before letting out a sigh of what he assumed was satisfaction.

      “Ha! Take that you brain-stealing piece of busywork!”

      “What were you doing this time? Something for your mom?”

      “Nope. One of my other clients.”

      “Ah. Another website?”

      “Honestly.” This time her sigh held nothing but exasperation. Lucky for him, he could tell it was totally fake. “Author assistants do more than build sites, you know.”

      “I know, I know. You set up contests, format ebooks and...other stuff.” He could go into more detail, but he didn’t want her to know how closely he’d paid attention to her work talk.

      Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how much he’d picked up about it, either. It smacked too closely of being...well...too close.

      “Very good. You get an A for listening.” She closed the lid on the laptop. “But this time I was planning a social media campaign. Not horribly complicated, but it’s a royal pain. I’ve earned a break. So.” She peered out the window. “Where are we? Belleville?”

      “Not quite. We just passed the Trenton exit. About halfway there.”

      “Good.” She twisted slightly to look behind her. He glanced her way. Mistake. Between her movements and the grip of the seat belt, her neckline was pulled sideways. He tore his gaze away, but there was no erasing the image of peachy skin and white lace that was now branded into his brain.

      Yep. This trip was a serious blunder. Time to remind himself of the real reason she was sitting beside him.

      “I think Xander believed the lines we fed him yesterday. About us being—”

      “Right.” She sounded surprisingly flustered for someone who had spent the first hour of the drive soothing a wailing child and a howling dog without breaking a sweat. “I have to say, you did a great job. Of pretending, I mean. If the business world ever loses its appeal, have me introduce you to some of my mother’s cohorts. They might be able to make use of you.”

      “Given some of the stories you’ve shared, I’m gonna say thanks but no thanks.” Especially because he hadn’t been acting so much as indulging his own needs at that moment—not that he would ever tell her that part. “But at some point we’re gonna have to come clean with him.”

      “Yes. We should.”

      Huh. She didn’t seem to have any ideas. Not what he expected from Darce.

      “It’s your call,” he said slowly. “You’re the one who has the most at stake here. But I’m thinking, once we get back, we should probably be up front with him.”

      “Right. I can tell him I was caught off guard by the jail thing, and you picked up on that and wanted to help.”

      She was saying the right things, but they weren’t ringing true. But maybe she wasn’t sure how Xander would react. After all, she’d really known him only a few weeks.

      “I can explain it to him. He might take it easier from me.” And if not, then Ian would rather any anger be directed at him than Darcy.

      “You don’t need to—”

      “Yeah, I do. It was my idea, remember? All you did was play along.” And he would forever be glad she had. Even not knowing everything that was happening, it had felt damned right to hold her close, to stand between her and someone who had caused her to look at him with that fearful appeal in her eyes. He might not be able to do a lot for Darce and Cady now—he didn’t have the legal knowledge to give her the advice she needed—but he had given her that.

      “Still, I think if I explained things from my point of view, he’ll understand.”

      “He probably will. But let me break it to him first, give him a chance to process it. You can go into the details later.”

      “I don’t—”

      “Darce. Trust me on this one, okay? It’s a guy thing.” Mostly his own thing, but let her think it was Xander’s ego on the line, not his. That would simplify life for all of them. “He’s going to be pissed, and he’s going to want to be sure that it was all for show.”

      “And why should he have any say in that? He’s Cady’s father, yes, but that’s as far as it goes. He has no say as to what I do with my life, as long as Cady is safe and happy.”

      “He just found out he has a daughter. Yesterday, when you first saw him, your instinct was to give her to me and trust me to take care of her. I took her inside. I fed her. I changed her frickin’ diaper.” And then I went back outside and kissed you, and everything changed, but I’m not going to dwell on that. “Cady is his daughter, but right now I’m the closest thing to a dad that she has. That’s going to eat at him. He’s going to want to know how deeply I’m tied to you two.”

      Another reason why they had to end this farce sooner rather than later. The longer it went on, the more Xander would believe in it.

      Ian’s own beliefs were totally irrelevant.

      “I suppose you’re right.” The laughter had fled from her voice.

      “I wasn’t blowing smoke last night when I said he’s basically a decent guy.”