Andrea’s eyes widen, as if she can’t believe an adult just cursed in front of her. She glances around quickly like she’s waiting for someone to pop up and catch us, before lowering her eyes to her tea. The steam piping up makes her hair curl and frizz, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “That’s...yeah. Mom died like today. Not today today, but...this is the day. Four years ago.” She swallows, her eyes glimmering. “And my dad’s so stupid. He always says the wrong thing.”
“Dads usually do.” I hesitate, considering what to offer, and then try, “Even my dad sometimes, and he was amazing. I think that’s what hurt the most, when he died and Mom changed. It’s like she forgot everything she loved about him that was so free, so wild. She turned into the total opposite. It felt like she was trying to erase every part of me that was like him, so I wouldn’t grow up to be him and then die and leave her, too.”
“Yes!” It comes out of Andrea in an aching cry, one that nearly breaks my heart. “It’s like, fine. I know Mom and Dad were gonna split up anyway, but I’d rather have her divorced and alive, but it’s like...like he doesn’t even want to think about her and doesn’t want me to either. Maybe he didn’t love her anymore, but I did!”
“Andrea...” I set my tea down on the coffee table and shift closer to her, carefully slipping my arm around her shoulders. “It’s probably just that he doesn’t know how to show his feelings in front of you. It’s complicated for him, I’d bet.”
Instead of pulling away from me like I half expect, she rests her mug on her knee so she can turn into me, hiding her face in my shoulder.
“It doesn’t have to be that complicated,” she mumbles against me. “If he’d just be honest.”
“Yeah, well, men are kind of like that.” I smile slightly, giving her a squeeze. “Hey. You ever been to Oahu?”
The distraction works.
She perks, lifting her head a little to peer at me curiously. “Isn’t that in Hawaii? No way, I’ve never left here.”
She says it with the scorn of any small-town girl who’s longing for new skies. I can’t help laughing.
“Yes, Hawaii. Home sweet home. You should ask your father to take you some day. I think you’d like it, even if it’s hot.”
“Awesome. I’m so sick of it always being rainy or snowy or just plain drab around here. It only gets really bright in the summer, and even then it’s never hot.” Andrea wrinkles her nose. “Plus, I doubt Dad would take me somewhere that cool.”
I frown. “Who is your dad, anyway?”
She doesn’t even get a chance to answer. There’s a knock at my door, sharp enough to rattle the doorframe, but with a certain restraint.
Who in the heck, at this time of night...?
The last thing I expect when I peer over my shoulder and through the glass of the door is him.
Blake.
Mr. Grumpy Silver Tongue himself.
From the frozen look on Andrea’s face...well, now I know who Daddy Dearest is.
And I also know Silver Tongue isn’t too far off from Silverton.
“Hey,” I promise her, giving her another squeeze before standing, keeping my voice low. “It’ll be okay. I won’t squeal about the liquor, but maybe take a few more sips of that tea.”
Wide-eyed, she nods, lifting the mug to her lips while I cross to the door.
Blake looks particularly intimidating in the light falling through the glass. Big arms folded over his chest, thickly honed forearms bulging against the sleeves of his coat, his mouth set like a steel trap.
Yikes.
But I smile ever so sweetly anyway, pulling the door open.
“Hey!” I say. “I’m guessing the lost kitten here is yours?”
“Correct,” he says grimly. I barely get to step aside before he’s stalking inside, his big bulk taking up so much space in my little cottage living room. “Andrea?”
She winces but sets her mug down and shuffles over, her head down.
Only for Blake to throw his arms around her shoulders, dragging her in close, enveloping her in this massive, sheltering hug that actually takes me by surprise. His expression softens as he buries his face in her hair and cups the back of her head.
“Goddammit, girl,” he whispers roughly. “I didn’t even know you weren’t home. Thought you were freezing me out. Then Haley called in the fire and I knew.”
Andrea makes a soft, hurting sound, clinging to Blake, knotting her hands in his shirt. “M’sorry, Dad. Sorry. I know it was stupid, we could’ve...we could’ve set the whole woods on fire—”
“The Inn too,” he growls, his eyes drilling into her. “You don’t want to hurt Ms. Wilma or Warren and Hay that way, do you? This town’s had enough fire damage the past year.”
“No, no, of course not.” Miserably, Andrea buries her face in his chest. “I just wanna go home, Dad.”
“I know.” He squeezes her tighter for a moment, then pulls back, gently nudging her. “Go wait in the Jeep. I’ll be out in a second.”
She holds on to him for a few more seconds, then pulls back and slogs away, the living portrait of tired dejection as she clomps out into the snow.
It’s my guess she’ll be out cold before they even get home.
Blake lingers, awkward in his thick flannel wool-lined coat, jeans, and boots. Apparently, changing out of his fire gear and into everyday stuff takes zero points away from the sexy department.
I try to quit gawking.
“How did you know you’d find her here?” I’m not even sure what to say, so I try a smile.
He gives me a flat look, then reaches into his back pocket and retrieves something.
My crocheted cap, several spots of it blackened and singed.
“You had this on earlier,” he says. “And it’s pretty distinctly ugly. But if you want it back...”
“Nah, I don’t really think it’s any good anymore.” I wince, glancing away. “Sorry. I didn’t know she was your little girl, or I’d have tried to call, or something. I saw them out in the woods, went to check out the fire, and they bolted. One kid was being reckless. A few twigs caught fire, but Andrea put it out. Now I know where she gets her fire safety tips from.”
If I’m not mistaken, there’s actually a touch of pride flickering in his eyes. Pride in his daughter. It warms me to see it.
And it does jack squat to dispel this ridiculous crush.
He rakes a hand through his thick hair, making it spike wildly around his sharply patrician features. “Yeah, well, thanks for looking out for her.”
“Oh, it’s no big!”
He starts turning away.
My lip digs against my teeth. Hey, I might as well shoot my shot while he’s here, right?
Better than desperately trying to chase him down later.
“Hey,” I say quickly, starting forward. “Listen, um...I was wondering about the stories Justin was talking about. The stuff about you and your friends and all the stuff that happened here? Heroes of Heart’s Edge?”
It’s the wrong thing to ask.
I know it’s the wrong thing to ask, when I remember far too late that Justin said the whole thing makes Blake touchy.