Page 4 of This Time Around
“Should I write this down somewhere?”
“Hush.”
Allie took a shaky breath against her racing pulse, and glanced at the crystal vase of lilies she’d set out the night before. The doorbell chimed and she reached for the knob, then hesitated, not wanting to look too eager. She took a few more breaths as her heart thudded in her ears and she ordered herself to smile warmly, to greet Jack with a firm handshake and his wife with a friendly hug. Or maybe a double cheek kiss, European style?
Her fingers felt sweaty as she gripped the doorknob and twisted right, then pulled open the door. Her gaze landed on the two people standing on her porch.
She stumbled back, too stunned to form a polite greeting.
“Oh,” she said, and clapped a hand over her mouth.
Chapter 2
Jack took one look at Allie’s face gone pale as a soda cracker and wondered what he’d done this time to make her throw up.
“Here, use this.” He set down the bottle of wine he’d brought and yanked the plastic off the bouquet he was holding, offering it to her as a makeshift barf bag. He’d made similar offerings in college when nerves or emotion got the best of his stoic fiancée and she turned this exact shade of white.
But Allie just stared at him like he’d lost his mind.
“I’m not going to throw up,” she said, waving the bag away. “I’m fine. I just—” She took a sharp breath, and her gaze darted to Paige.
Paige.
He felt a surge of pride seeing his ten-year-old daughter standing beside him looking cheerful and well-mannered in the blue dress she’d picked for the occasion. She’d French-braided her own hair in some complicated twist Jack could never figure out. Sensing his gaze on her, his kid gave him a grin so wide he saw the gap from the newly lost molar that he’d hidden in a silk pouch in his sock drawer.
Emotion welled in his chest, so he looked back at Allie. She’d recovered some of her color, which probably had something to do with the possessive male hand resting on her shoulder.
“Jack,” Allie began, licking her lips. “I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Wade.”
The guy slid his palm from Allie’s shoulder and reached out to shake Jack’s hand. Jack returned the handshake, impressed with himself for not feeling any twinges of jealousy at the word fiancé. He was over her, obviously. Had been over her for years, long before he’d gotten married and had a kid.
The reminder prompted Jack to offer his own introduction. “Pleasure to meet you, Wade,” he said. “This is my daughter, Paige.”
Paige stuck out her hand, beaming like she always did when given the opportunity to socialize with grownups. Still looking dumbstruck, Allie grasped the small hand in hers and gave it an awkward shake.
“I’m Paige Carpenter,” his daughter announced, her dimples on full display as she looked from Allie to Wade and back again. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Paige.” Allie gave her a nervous smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Such nice manners. How old are you?”
“Ten. How old are you?”
Allie laughed, breaking the spell that seemed to have held her for the last thirty seconds. Her face creased into familiar crinkles around her eyes and mouth, into laugh lines Jack couldn’t help noticing had grown deeper in the sixteen years since he saw her last.
Laughter he hadn’t been part of. God, had it really been that long?
“I’m thirty-six,” Allie said, answering Paige’s question at last. “Same as your dad. Please, come on in.”
She stepped back, and Jack tried not to notice the way the wine-colored dress swept around her thighs and moved over her hips. Hips that still looked full and beautifully rounded. Hips he used to grip with both hands as she moved over him, her breasts bare and?—
Jesus Christ, was he really doing this? With his kid standing beside him, and Allie’s fiancé, too, for crying out loud.
Jack looked at the fiancé, reminding himself that Allie belonged to someone else now. The guy’s suit screamed lawyer, which made perfect sense. Allie had obviously gotten what she’d wanted out of life.
So did you, his subconscious reminded him. That’s why you’re here, to rub her face in the fact that you turned out great without her.
It was a shitty thing to think, but there it was. Jack squeezed his daughter’s shoulder as she stepped through the front door. He followed behind her, bringing him closer to Allie than he’d been since he was twenty years old. He stepped back quickly and turned to pick up the wine. Then he moved past the lawyer fiancé and into a living room that was well-decorated, but small. Smaller than he would have expected. Silky-looking throw pillows lined a leather sofa that looked vintage. There was a crystal vase of lilies on the coffee table, and an earthy-looking clay vessel on a nearby bookshelf. Jack remembered it from their college apartment. Her grandma had made it, and Allie used to keep it on her desk to hold dried flowers from the first bouquet he’d ever given her.
It held something metallic now. Daisies? Stems of copper twisted up to meet petals made of iron and steel, an effect that was both artistic and tasteful. And expensive. Probably very expensive.
