Hometown Wedding. Elizabeth Lane

fingers ruffled the pages of the paperback in his lap.

      Soon, he thought. Soon.

      And in the meantime, there was the intriguing Miss Harper.

      

      Eden uncrossed her legs and smoothed out a crease in her linen slacks. Now would be the smart time to get up and leave, she admonished herself. Travis’s daughter would be arriving any minute. Seeing her father with a strange woman could give the young girl a painfully wrong impression.

      But Travis seemed in no hurry to have her go. He was leaning back in his seat, regarding her lazily. Was he resentful, amused or merely bored? Eden could read no clue in the smoky depths of his narrowed eyes.

      She fiddled with her briefcase, her pulse clunking like a bent bicycle wheel as she grappled with this new set of realities.

      Travis, divorced, with a fourteen-year-old daughter.

      Travis, sitting across from her as if they had never been anything but friends.

      Her restless gaze dropped to the big, sun-bronzed hand that lay across the open paperback, and she pondered his lack of wedding ring. It was impossible to believe Travis Conroy could be unattached for long. He’d had females chasing him since he was in kindergarten. All he had to do was take his pick.

      Oh, what was she doing here, thinking inanities and blushing like a moron? She had to get out of here before she made a complete fool of herself.

      “So tell me what you do in New York,” he said, making a stab at conversation.

      “Me?” Eden blinked her mind back into focus. “Oh…I’ve just been promoted to senior editor at Parnell Books. I’ve got my eye on my boss’s job when he retires next year—that is, if some other publishing house doesn’t lure me away first.”

      A smile flickered enticingly around his eyes. “So you’re an editor. I always thought you had the brains to make something of yourself.”

      “Really?” The compliment had caught Eden off guard. Her heart sank as she felt the all-too-familiar flush of color creep up her throat to flood her cheeks. She groped for something to fill the excruciating silence.

      “How long has it been since you’ve seen your daughter?” she asked lamely.

      “Too long.” He shifted his shoulders with a sigh. “I was supposed to have her over the Christmas holidays, but she came down with chicken pox. Diane promised me spring vacation to make up the time, but then Nicole had a chance to go to Hawaii with her cousins. She was so damned excited about it. What could I say?”

      “So you haven’t seen her since last fall?”

      “Nope.” Travis stretched his long legs, crossing his worn cowboy boots at the ankles. “And I’m getting pretty anxious. She’s a special little lady. Gets good grades, plays the flute like an angel. And she likes camping and fishing almost as much as her old dad does. We’re going to have a great time this summer, just—”

      He broke off as the PA blared, announcing an arrival at gate B-16. “Hey! That’s Nicole’s flight! Come on, I’ll introduce you!”

      “I really don’t think…” Eden began. But he was already out of earshot, charging down the concourse toward the swarm of deplaning passengers.

      Eden hesitated. Then, resolving not to follow him, she stood up, slung her heavy briefcase over one shoulder and strode in the opposite direction, toward the escalator that led down to the baggage-claim area. It was time for a fast exit. An extra couple of hours on a bus were nothing compared to what she could get herself into by sticking around.

      Except…She paused, torn by curiosity. After the way Travis had rhapsodized about his little girl, it might be interesting to see what she looked like. It would be an intriguing challenge, Eden mused, to try to pick Travis’s daughter out of a crowd. Afterward, it would still be easy enough to slip away and catch a taxi for the Greyhound depot.

      Impulsively she turned around and strolled back along the far side of the concourse to an unobtrusive spot that gave her a view of the gate. She could see Travis, pine-tall, straining forward as the passengers filed out of the jetway. Clearly he was still watching for his daughter.

      Settling back against the wall, Eden began to play her game, assessing each female passenger who emerged through the gate. A young woman with a baby—no. A chic fiftyish matron in a designer suit—certainly not. A pubescent child-woman in sunglasses, skintight hip huggers and a formfitting crop top—hardly! A pretty, young—yes, of course! The studious-looking girl carrying a flute case, her chestnut curls tied back with a ribbon. No doubt about it. That was Nicole.

      Eden glanced over at Travis. He was standing stock-still, looking as if he’d just been poleaxed.

      “Nicole!” He rasped out the name as the young girl with the flute case passed him without a glance.

      “Nicole, over here!”

      A squeal of delight exploded from the nymphet in the skintight jeans.

      “Daddy!” she warbled, hurling herself into Travis’s arms with a force that nearly bowled him over. “Oh, Daddy! You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you!”

       Chapter Two

      “You’ve, uh, gotten taller.” Still dazed, Travis braced his daughter at arm’s length. His gaze took in the outsize sunglasses, the boyishly cropped hair, the white knit top that ended at mid-rib cage and was snug enough to show off her—

      But never mind. There was no place below Nicole’s tanned shoulders where Travis could comfortably rest his eyes.

      “Aren’t you glad to see me?” Her tentative smile was as flawless as a string of pearls. She’d gotten her braces off, he realized. And no one had even told him about it.

      “‘Glad’ isn’t the word for it, sweetheart. I’m just, uh, a little startled, that’s all. You’re not my little girl anymore. You’re growing up. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

      “All little girls grow up.” She shifted her tote bag and linked an arm through his. “You wouldn’t want me to be a kid forever, would you?”

      “I don’t know. It was pretty nice while it lasted.” Travis adjusted his long strides to her smaller ones, wishing he had a blanket to fling around her nubile, exposed body. Very soon he would have to take her to task about that outfit—or lack of outfit. But not just yet. Not in their first precious minutes together.

      “Hungry?” he asked her. “We could stop for burgers on our way out of town.”

      She shook her head like a saucy little bird. “I macked a sandwich on the plane. But I’ve got to run to the john.” She handed him the claim check she’d fished out of her tote bag. “You go ahead and grab my stuff off the carousel. I’ll catch up in a sec.”

      Brushing a kiss on his cheek, she released his arm and scampered into the crowd. A balding bearded male in a Budweiser T-shirt moved aside to let her pass. His eyes flicked over her body with an expression so lustful that it was all Travis could do to keep from hurling himself at the man and inflicting major damage. No, the issue of Nicole’s costume could not wait a minute longer.

      “Nicole!”

      She glanced demurely back over her shoulder.

      “Don’t you have a sweatshirt or something in that bag? You need to put some clothes on.”

      She stared at him as if he’d just time-warped from the 1800s. “Oh, Daddy, don’t be a nerd! It’s the middle of June! It’s summer, and these are my clothes!”

      “Now, look, young lady…” Travis’s words evaporated like spit on a hot sidewalk as Nicole flashed into the King’s-X zone