Joanne Rock - Nights Under the Tennessee Stars

Erin stepped out of his way, giving him access to the sugar.

“Then honestly, it shouts red flag in my book. If not school issues, there could be friend trouble or boy problems. My niece went through a rough patch last year and I know that stuff causes kids a lot of stress. As we get older, we forget how life-and-death everything is at that age—the emotions, the fears...”

Remy gulped the scalding coffee.

“You’re right.” Damn it, he needed to figure out what was going on with his daughter.

“But I think it’s great she wanted to see you.” Erin sipped her drink out of a stoneware mug that looked as though it had been hand painted. “A lot of teenage girls wouldn’t turn to their fathers for help.”

Something about the way she said it suggested she would have never turned to her own father—the father beloved by all of Heartache. What had it been like growing up in such a small town in a well-known family?

He sighed. “Maybe she just knows who the pushover is.” He didn’t appreciate Sarah’s insistence that he “sweet-talk” the teacher. Worse, it bugged him that he’d done exactly that.

“I think it speaks well of your relationship.” Erin’s rings clanked against the mug handle as she set down the cup.

She wore a black dress today with a black vinyl apron that suggested she planned to do a bit of crafting. The short sleeves on her dress exposed a brightly colored tattoo. Vines twisted around one arm and disappeared up into her sleeve.

He must have taken too long to answer because he became aware of her staring at him.

“Is there anything else I can do?” she asked, making him realize he’d stood there too damn long, taking over her store and her office with his personal problems.

It must be the odd thread of attraction he experienced that had his feet rooted to the floor, but it had been nice having someone to talk to about Sarah’s behavior. Someone who wasn’t a shrink and didn’t connect everything in their lives back to Liv. A year ago, that thought would have felt disloyal to her memory. But now he owned it for what it was—plain and simple truth.

“No.” He set down the cup and straightened. “I’ll wake Sarah and get out of your hair.”

“There’s no rush—”

“I’ve imposed on your goodwill enough in the past few days.” He jammed his hands into his pockets to make sure things didn’t become more personal than they already were. “I’m glad you’re going to do the show, Erin. I’m not going to risk scaring you off now.”

He tested out the smile that worked with other people, but, true to form, it seemed to fall flat on Erin. She frowned.

“Remy, I’m scared off by slick, big-city manners, so please don’t feel you need to pile on the charm for my sake. If we’re going to work together, I’d rather know the real you than the television sham.”

And wasn’t that a wake-up call in his day?

“I’ve got a whole lot more real where this comes from.” He shook his head. “Too much.” He laid a hand on Sarah’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Come on, Sarah. Time to go.”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.