Page 24 of This Time Around (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #3)

“All set?” he asked.

Allie nodded. “Nice car.”

“Thank you. It just arrived yesterday.”

“It’s new?”

“No, I had it brought up here by a moving company. Time was a little tight, so Paige and I flew to Portland and had most of our household stuff sent by a moving company.”

“That must have been expensive.”

He glanced at her, trying to figure out if there was any sort of judgment or admiration in the words. They seemed harmless enough, so Jack decided to let it pass. He concentrated on easing the car away from the curb and pointing them toward the restaurant where the event was being held.

They both fell quiet, the silence in the car broken only by the sound of rainwater shushing beneath the tires and the wiper blades squeaking against the windshield. He breathed in Allie’s perfume and wondered what she was thinking.

He didn’t have to wonder long.

“So do you really want me to take your kid bra shopping?”

Jack nodded, then realized she was looking out the window instead of at him. “If you’re up for it. I mean, I’m sure you’re busy?—”

“No, it’s okay. I just meant—well, I’ve only met her a couple times. Isn’t there someone closer to her?”

“Just my mom, and like I said, she still kind of treats her like she’s a baby. If this bra thing has to happen, I’d rather it happen with someone who’s going to treat her like a maturing little girl.”

Allie turned from the window and gave him an appraising look. “Wow. That’s very adult of you.”

He laughed. “Having a kid makes you grow up pretty fast.” He thought about that for a moment, then glanced over at her. “Having a daughter especially.”

“How so?”

“I guess it’s probably different in two-parent households. When you’re a single dad raising a little girl, you spend half your time feeling like some sort of Viking protector, and the other half pretty sure you’re screwing up six ways to Sunday.”

“I hardly think you’re screwing her up,” Allie said. “She seems like a well-adjusted kid.”

“Thanks.”

“Not that I’ve been around a lot of kids.”

He grinned. “So your observation is meaningless?”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly. But I was always a bit of a daddy’s girl, so I think I’m qualified to assess father-daughter relationships. Yours seems pretty solid.”

“Thanks. It is.” He didn’t say anything right away as his thoughts mixed with the splash of rainwater outside and he tried to figure out the words that went along with what he was feeling.

“That’s the thing about being a dad. When she’s young, she’s your little girl.

You play games and make each other laugh and spend most of your time feeling like the center of each other’s universe.

But then the universe gets bigger—friends, school, social pressures—and you worry you’re not enough for her.

That no matter how amazing your bond is, it’s still stupidly inadequate for everything she’s going to need to make it through that awkward transition from little girl to young woman. ”

“Wow.” Allie bit her lip. “I guess I never thought about that.”

He shrugged. “Maybe it’s not the same with all dads and daughters. It might just be me.”

She looked at him, her green eyes clear and bright. “Like I said, I’m not the best judge on the planet. But from where I stand, you seem like you’re doing great.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

She went quiet again, and Jack thought about how nice it felt to talk to someone about this.

He talked with his mom about Paige, of course—who would be picking her up from a birthday party, or whether it was time to switch her from Flintstones Vitamins to something more grown-up.

But not conversations like this. He usually avoided discussing his daughter with Lacey, and since Lace had made it clear she wasn’t interested in a relationship, he’d kept contact to a minimum between the two.

No sense getting Paige’s hopes up for something permanent, or having her imprint on a new mother figure like an orphaned baby duck.

It was a moot point now anyway, since Lacey had zero interest in relocating to Portland.

Allie seemed to read his thoughts. “So your girlfriend?—”

“Definitely not my girlfriend.”

“Whatever. Your lady friend , then—did you guys cut things off when you moved?”

“Pretty much.”

She nodded, and Jack wondered what she was thinking. If she’d ask him anything else about his love life these past sixteen years, and what he was willing to volunteer.

“My mom wasn’t a huge fan of Lacey,” he said.

Now where the hell had that come from?

Allie looked at him and smiled. “How does she feel about you spending time with the woman who broke your heart sixteen years ago?”

He shrugged. “Guarded,” he admitted. “But she always thought highly of you. Even after we split.”

“She sent me a card during my parents’ trial,” Allie said. “Said she was thinking of me, hoped I was doing okay. That she knew how close I was to my mom and dad, and that she knew I loved them no matter what.”

Jack nodded. “I always envied what you had with your family. Both parents present and accounted for. Loving grandparents. The whole mess.”

“My grandmother adored you.” The fondness in Allie’s voice was unmistakable. “Said every woman needs a man who lights her up inside and leaves her glowing after he’s left the room.” She grinned. “Grandma could be a little passionate.”

“You don’t say.” Probably best not to bring up the sex toys. “Your mom couldn’t stand me.”

“She didn’t hate you.” Allie pressed her lips together. “Just didn’t think you were the right choice. My dad liked you, though. Still does.”

Hearing that made Jack feel warm from the inside out, like he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey. “I always wished I had a dad like yours.”

The sad look Allie shot him had Jack questioning whether it was smart to share this much. They were still easing back into their friendship, after all. But when she spoke, her voice was tinged with compassion, not pity.

“I remember that story you told me,” Allie said softly. “About the time your dad decided the two of you should hitchhike from Portland to Vegas. You were what, five?”

Jack gave a tight nod. “Almost six. By the time we finally got there, he was tired of hanging out with me, so he told me to sleep in the car while he and the driver—some guy we’d just met named Buddy—went into the casino and got wasted.”

Allie grimaced. “God, I can’t even imagine how your mom must’ve felt getting that phone call.”

Jack shook his head and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “‘ I think I lost the kid, but I’m sure he’s around here someplace ,’” Jack muttered in his closest approximation of his father’s voice. Then again, he hadn’t heard that voice for years. His memories were fuzzy.

“You think he remembers any of that?” Allie asked. “That trip or the things he did?”

“I have no idea. I hardly ever think about him.”

It sounded lousy saying it out loud, but it was true. He’d written his father off years ago, and with good reason.

“The trip wasn’t all bad,” she said in a voice as soft as the rain outside.

“Your hitchhiking adventure, I mean. I remember you telling me about how he stopped at a truck stop along the way and gave you a whole handful of quarters to run the jukebox all night. Chased away anyone who tried to have a turn. You told me he picked you up and danced with you when you made it play Boot Scootin’ Boogie . ”

A pang of sadness hit him square in the gut. Jack glanced at her, surprised she’d remembered that detail. He’d forgotten it himself. Leave it to Allie to focus on the good parts of the story. To push aside the ugly ones and hold tightly to the prettier pieces of memory.

He couldn’t think of anything to say, which was just as well since they’d arrived at the venue.

He started for a parking spot in back, but remembered Allie’s high heels and drove around for a few minutes until he found one closer.

He pulled into it and shut the car off, but didn’t take his keys from the ignition right away.

He sat there for a few seconds longer, mentally steeling himself.

“So ... what’s the plan here?” Allie asked.

He turned to look at her. “How do you mean?”

“Do you need me to pretend to be your girlfriend, or am I just an old pal?” She shrugged. “I’m good either way.”

“No, I don’t want to lie. But I guess—maybe we don’t need to volunteer details?”

She laughed and tossed her hair. “I see. So you’re saying there might be a situation in which it would behoove you to have a girlfriend on your arm, but then again, maybe you’d rather be free to pick up chicks?”

“No, it’s not that at all.”

“It’s okay, Jack.” She smiled, and he knew she meant it. “I’ll play it however you want. Maybe we need a cue.”

“A cue?”

“Yeah. Like if we get in there and you want me to play your old buddy, you scratch your chin. And if you want me to play your girlfriend, you?—”

“Grab my crotch?”

“Very funny.” Allie grabbed the door handle. “Come on. We’re already thirty minutes late. Better get in there.”

She pushed her door open, and Jack unbuckled his seatbelt, not sure he was ready for this. Not sure he was ready for any of it.

Allie smoothed down the front of her dress, feeling oddly self-conscious. It wasn’t her reunion. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t be judged, though.

She glanced over at Jack, who was looking a little gray.

She started to reach for his hand, but remembered they weren’t pulling out the boyfriend-girlfriend card unless he gave the signal.

What was the signal again? She started to ask, but Jack grabbed the door handle and yanked it open with surprising force.

“Whoa, there,” she said, jumping back so the door didn’t hit her in the face. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

He let the door fall shut, and Allie pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders. The rain had stopped, but it was still chilly outside. Still, she got the sense Jack wasn’t thrilled to be going inside. “I guess you just seem kinda nervous about going in there.”