"She never missed a Thanksgiving dinner."
"No." He shook his head. "Ours is the only family she knows."
"That's right." She rubbed his arm. "You need to make it right."
"And your thing?"
"Is pretty complicated. Besides, after what I said to Cade, I doubt he ever wanted to speak to me again."
He gave her a curious stare that had her squirming. "Not that I care."
"You do. One, he's the father of your little girl and I think you're denying or burying what you really feel. The Abby I know would never be with a man she cares nothing about." He tilted her chin up. "I'm certainly not in a position to tell you what to do. My own personal life is a living testimony to that fact. But for Zoe's sake, try and find some sort of a middle ground. You're holding onto the past." He shook his head with a grim smile. "Yes. Pot. Kettle. Christ, what a pair we are." He tugged her into his arms. "How about we sit here for a minute or two and not think about the two people tormenting our souls? What do you think of the Red Sox and their chances in the final?"
He drew a startled burst of laughter from her that eased the tension inside the room.
*****
It took everything in him to pretend that he wasn't dying inside. He had barely managed to get to his suite and washed off the scent of sex and put something on when his daughter came racing into the room to show off her painted nails.
"It's pink." She told him with a bright smile, hazel eyes dancing.
"Of course." Lifting her into his arms, he set her on his knees. "What else did you do?"
"We sprayed some of grandma's perfume. Here." Thrusting her small hand under his nose, she waited for his reaction.
"Smells like a garden."
"That's what Aunt Kat and Aunt Sarah said."
"We had quite the adventure while you were gone." His sister's eyes scanned his face curiously. "Hey sweetie, why don't I take you to your grandparents for a little bit? They want to read you a story in that big library downstairs."
"Really?" She turned to look at her father as if seeking his approval.
"Go ahead. I'll be there to tuck you in later."
He watched her race towards his sister, whose pointed look warned him he was in for an interrogation, something he was not looking forward to. All he wanted to do was drink himself into oblivion. But that was not an option now, was it? He thought wryly. He had a little girl to think about and she comes first. His mouth twisted as he pushed himself off the bed.
Abigail's burning words came back to haunt him. She had accused him of trying to get his daughter by buttering her up.
Well, he had expressed his feelings and got punched in the heart and gut for the effort.
"She's down there delighting her grandparents and Kevin by picking out books."
He did not turn at the sound of her voice.
"I really would like to be alone."
"I gathered that. You look defeated."
Her choice of word had him laughing hollowly. "I guess you can call it that. I went to see Abigail."
"Why?"
He shrugged, staring out at the wind slicing through the leaves of the trees surrounding the tennis court. The moon was a sliver, but the pale light slid in and out of the leaves, dappling everything into silver. "She looked so sad when we left. I wanted to reassure her that Zoe is not here to stay."
"Was that the only reason?"
He turned to look at her, smiling slightly at her frowning expression. "And to rekindle old flames. I'm in love with her."
