The words were sharp, but her voice broke at the end, giving her away.

Fear glistened her eyes, and a tremble shook her voice. Colby was hurting. It had to mean she cared. Yet she was standing there, throwing away everything they'd built over a d.a.m.n misunderstanding.

Jason knew if they had any chance of making this work, he had to put his own anger aside. Flexing his hands, he strove for calm as he said, "Colby, this isn't what you think. What you're imagining didn't happen. I'm not your dad. I'm not your ex. I'm an instructor in a cla.s.s that just ended, and one of my students asked for help. We were going over a skill that I'd love to show you. That's all that's happening here."

The battle was evident in her expressive eyes. A part of her wanted to believe in him, wanted to believe in them. But when Angelle brushed past on her way to the door, the softness that he saw last night-the look in her eyes that he'd believed was love-faded. And the side that had decided years ago that all men were dogs won out.

Hesitating with her hand on her duffel bag, Angelle sent him an apologetic smile. It would be easy to be mad at her. He wanted to blame her. But he couldn't. The girl had a harmless crush. He should've set her straight as soon as her feelings were obvious, but he'd ignorantly thought it'd only make things more awkward. He'd always known she was never an honest threat to their relationship. But not confronting the issue led to this disaster.

Turned out it was Jason's fault after all.

Gripping the strap of her bag, Angelle spoke quietly. "He's telling you the truth." Colby bristled, and Angelle turned to look her in the eyes. "Woman to woman, I did go after him. I didn't know he was seeing someone-but I never asked. Jason never did anything inappropriate. He was only ever professional and kind."

Colby didn't reply. He hadn't expected her to. But he was grateful Angelle had tried.

"Jason is an amazing man," she continued. "I can't be the only one who sees that. Don't be a stubborn a.s.s." With a final glance back at Jason, she left.

The room fell into silence.

"Colby, I..." He squeezed his temples with both hands, searching for the words to fix this.

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a complete a.s.s." Colby sighed, her entire body seeming to deflate before him. "Stubborn maybe," she muttered with a long exhale. "But I'm not an idiot. I heard what you said. I heard her. And I admit it's possible that I misread...whatever that was."

For the first time since she'd walked into the gym, Jason felt hope. But then her gla.s.sy eyes lifted. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm broken."

Swift steps bought back the distance she'd put between them. Yanking Colby into his arms, heart pounding, he shook his head. "No, baby. You're not broken. You've been hurt; I get that. But if we're ever gonna work, you need to trust me. You believed the worst tonight because that's what you expected to see. But Colby, I promise you, I'm not that guy. I'm not going to hurt you."

A fat tear rolled down her smooth cheek. Another followed. As he swept them with his fingertips, her lips lifted into a small, trembling smile. But he felt her slipping away.

"No." Wrapping his arms tighter, he crushed her against him, his voice quaking with emotion. "Don't give up on us, Colby. Couples fight. We can come back from this."

Her eyes closed as she lowered her head to his chest, shaking it as if to say, I don't think we can.

Desperation clawed his insides, tightening his chest. He refused to lose her now. Grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he lifted it and pressed his forehead against hers, praying she'd open her beautiful eyes. When she didn't, Jason went for broke. "Colby, I love you."

A sob shook her slender body. A matching one built in his throat. She had to feel the same. They could fix this. It wasn't over.

Colby flattened her lips into a hard line and finally opened her eyes...and Jason saw his dreams for the future shatter.

Cupping his face in her hand she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Chapter Sixteen.

"That's amazing, sweetheart." Jason wedged the cell phone between his ear and shoulder, a smile forming at Emma's excited chatter. His head pounded from lack of sleep. He was restless after hours on shift with no calls, and his chest ached-though that had nothing to do with his job. But he had his daughter. She would always have him. Their family unit was back to two, and perhaps that was as it should be.

"Yep, I totally kicked his b.u.t.t," she declared. "After the first hour, the fish just stopped biting for him. Pops said it's because I'm so sweet."

Jason suspected it was more like a combination of the old man's soft spot for his granddaughter and good old-fashioned trickery. But as Emma giggled in his ear, the sound like a balm to his dropkicked heart, he was grateful whatever the reason.

"Well, you be sure to stick it to him good for me." He plopped his feet on his desk, picking up the picture of them in Biloxi last summer. "Do you know that in all the trips he's dragged me on, I've never caught more than him?"

She whooped and began taunting both men gleefully. In the background, he heard his mom scream at her favorite soap opera. Everything sounded so...normal. Eyeing the clock, Jason counted the hours until he could go home.

Rubbing a circle over the pain in his chest he said, "How about a celebratory fish fry tomorrow when I get home?"

"Mmm, sounds yummy. Can Colby come, too?"

The sound of her name in his daughter's sweet voice nearly killed him. How in the h.e.l.l did he answer that? He couldn't destroy Emma's hopes over the d.a.m.n phone. He couldn't even imagine doing it in person. His greatest fear had come true, and there was no one to blame for the fallout but him.

Ever since Colby had walked back into his life, he'd encouraged Emma's matchmaking schemes. Maybe not overtly, but in small ways he'd allowed it to continue. He'd pushed Colby to join their camping trip when she hesitated. He'd let Emma invite her to the Recognition a.s.sembly. And at the restaurant the other day, he'd practically worn a neon sign in front of G.o.d and everyone declaring his growing feelings.

Even though Jason had been wrong, even though Colby didn't love him, he knew she cared about his daughter. She wouldn't shut Emma out. But after proclaiming his love like a jacka.s.s, Jason wasn't sure he could handle being around Colby again.

"I don't know, Em," he told her, his voice tight. Clearing his throat, he went for a diversion. "But you can invite Molly and Ava over. Now that summer break has started, it won't be a school night. Y'all can have a sleepover."

It was a cheap trick. A pathetic attempt at distraction-but it worked like a charm. For the next few minutes, Emma went into pa.s.sionate detail, describing all the movies they'd watch and the snacks he'd have to buy. Following the maze of words and topics kept Jason's mind occupied, and he decided right then and there that this would be the best d.a.m.n sleepover in the history of sleepovers. After everything she'd been through in her young life, his daughter deserved it.

"Oh, and we'll need doughnuts," Emma said. "Dad, what do you think-"

A loud bell pierced the air. A red light flashed over his head. Jason shot to his feet.

Emma's sharp intake of breath hit his ear as a booming voice called for three engines, a ladder, and the medic. "Respond to a structure fire at Twenty-six Boudreaux Park west of Lafayette. Zone Five."

"Daddy?!?"

Fear coated Emma's voice. It was the same sound he awoke to whenever she'd had one of her nightmares. They weren't as frequent anymore, but dreams of losing him like she'd lost her mother still tortured her some nights. In their small town, the department rarely responded to more than nine hundred calls in a year. But every fire Jason went into spurred another dream for Emma.

Tucking the cell phone by his ear, he ran toward his gear. "Everything's gonna be fine, Bug. I have to go now, but I love you. So much."

Her loud sniff carried over the sound of his boots smacking the ground. "I love you, too, Daddy. Please, please be safe."

"Always," he promised.

In a matter of minutes, Jason was dressed and racing down Main Street. Pushing past the guilt of Emma's fear and the pain of Colby's rejection, he began preparing for the task ahead. Fires were messy. Every one he'd encountered was unique and unpredictable. But this was what he'd trained for. This was something he could handle. And he was ready.

"Colby?" Cane widened the door as he stepped back, motioning for her to come inside. Staring first at her wardrobe and then at the key in her hand, he raised an eyebrow and said, "I thought you were sick."

In a manner of speaking.

Colby doubted her big brother considered heartache a legitimate illness. Especially not self-inflicted heartache. But after tossing and turning all night and then berating herself for being a spineless coward all afternoon, she was fairly sure she was normal sick, too.

Padding inside the home of her childhood, she breathed in the familiar scent of lemon. "I just needed to be here."

Cane gave her a searching look and nodded.

She had been in a daze since dawn. After waking up alone, which was completely her own fault, she'd walked down the hallway with swollen eyes. She'd ruined her eggs and burned her toast. What the h.e.l.l kind of chef burns toast? Her gla.s.s of fresh squeezed orange juice held no taste. Even her morning shot of caffeine did nothing to clear the static in her head. When her sad yet determined-to-recover sister got a good look at her, she'd sent Colby straight to bed, on strict orders to take the day off. Considering what she'd done to her breakfast, it was probably for the best.

But Colby never went back to sleep. She'd lain in bed, watching c.r.a.p daytime television. She'd bawled at every Hallmark commercial. Chucked her pillow at the romantic love scenes. And after Ellen, she'd finally dragged her sorry a.s.s out of bed. The adorably perky host had reunited a guest with her first love, and Colby couldn't take anymore. With the walls of Sherry's house closing in, she escaped to her car, still dressed in her faded cat pajamas. Then she headed here, to the house that had created the starry-eyed girl she used to be.

The girl she wished she still was.

Now, Colby's slippered feet carried her forward. Cane fell in step behind her, his heavy footfalls echoing on the hardwood. b.u.t.terflies swarmed her stomach and tears p.r.i.c.ked her eyes when she reached her final destination. "It looks exactly the same."

The butcher-block island. Dark oak cabinets. And umpteen magnets on the fridge. Cast iron pots dangled from the ceiling, and the aged get it while it's hot sign hung over the sink.

They'd gathered here after their father's funeral, but even then, Colby hadn't lingered. In the years since she'd left, the handful of holidays she'd actually come home for, she'd made it a point to never stay in this room longer than was absolutely necessary.

Cane chuckled. "Did you expect me to knock it down the minute y'all signed it over to me? Dad would haunt my a.s.s from the grave."

Skimming her hand along the granite countertop, Colby shrugged. "I don't know what I expected," she admitted, somehow feeling more lost than when she'd walked in. "For some reason I just felt like I had to be here." She glanced around, failing to see any mystical signs from her mom, and sighed. "Sounds pretty stupid now that I say it aloud."

Frustrated and exhausted, she leaned her back against the cabinets and stared at the mottled tile beneath her feet. Ever since she'd come home, her life had been a constant roller coaster. And she was ready to get off.

Every street corner held a memory. Restaurants in two different states depended on her. Her head chef Matt had earned his promotion twice over since she'd left Vegas, but it was still on her shoulders-along with her family's legacy. The man she'd fantasized about her entire life, the man she'd fallen head over heels in love with, had actually told her he loved her. And in response, she'd apologized.

Broken didn't even cover what she was.

"You okay, sis?"

Colby replied with a thin-lipped smile, blinking back tears that insisted on forming, and Cane gave her foot a pointed kick. "You sure about that?"

Remembering her appearance-cat pajamas, ratty slippers, messy ponytail, no makeup-she laughed, only it came out more like a garbled sob. "Not so much."

Before her next breath, her brother had her wrapped in his big, bulky arms. Burying her head in the rock wall of his chest, she let the tears flow.

He kissed the top of her head. "You know that whatever it is, you can talk to me, right?" She nodded but kept her face tucked against him. "I might not have b.r.e.a.s.t.s like Sherry, but I do have two functioning ears. And thanks to a houseful of women, I even know to shut up and not try and fix it."

Colby laughed through her blubbering. Wiping her eyes, she raised her head and said, "Yeah, I know."

He smiled. When she didn't follow that with a baring of her soul, he ran his hands up and down her arms. "You'll be okay here for a minute? I want to get you something."

"Sure," she said, catching the time on the microwave. "But don't you have to get back to the restaurant?" It was just after four-thirty, and Cane never showed up after five on a Sat.u.r.day.

"The world won't end if I'm late once," he told her, already backing away. "There's something I need to give you. Don't go anywhere, all right?"

She nodded, her nose scrunched as he jogged from the room. Something he needs to give me. She didn't have the faintest idea what it could be, but if it was money, she was going to deck him.

To keep herself from another ugly cry, Colby decided to spend the minutes digging through the drawers. Cane hadn't changed a thing since inheriting the house. The junk drawer still held a slew of c.r.a.p best dumped in the trash, and the kitchen utensils remained mismatched and haphazard. For some reason, the familiarity made her smile. She lifted her head, chest feeling lighter than it had all day, and found herself staring at an ap.r.o.n hanging on the side of the fridge.

A checkered ap.r.o.n.

Her ap.r.o.n.

"Got it."

Her brother's voice at her ear caused Colby's heart to spasm. Spinning around, she slapped his bulging bicep. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, you freak."

"Not my fault you zoned out," he said with a grin. "I'd be shirking my sibling duty if I didn't take advantage."

"And we wouldn't want that," she replied, shifting her head to the left to steal another look at her ap.r.o.n.

Following her gaze, Cane lifted his chin. "You know that's been there since you left for New York."

Now that she was busted, Colby turned around to get a good look, wondering why she hadn't noticed it before. But then, she knew why. It was on the side of the fridge near Dad's special alcove, the spot he kept all his prized recipes and spices. During those few short visits home, if she did venture into the kitchen, she avoided that corner like it held the plague. "Oh."

"You know, Colby, I'm not blind," he said, shocking her attention back to him. Cane exhaled and ran his hand over his face. "I knew about the tension between you and Dad. And I have a pretty good idea why, too."

He slid a hunter green envelope from his pocket and held it out to her.

Colby's hand flinched at her side, but other than that, she was frozen. "Dad's stationery."

"I found this in Dad's desk a couple days ago." Her eyes flicked to his, and Cane shook his head. He retracted the eerie note from beyond and flipped it over, pointing to the front cover where her name was written in her father's tight scrawl. Shivers skated down her spine. "No, I didn't read it. I got my own letter."

"Did you read yours?"

He shook his head again. "But I can guess what's in it."

I bet you can't.

Cane held the envelope out again, and this time she took it. The tips of her fingers tingled as they touched the stiff paper. Shifting his feet, there was an apology in her brother's voice as he said, "We should have talked about this years ago."

Colby's hand tightened around the missive as fear, anger, and even hope mingled in her chest. Did he know about their father's secret-her secret? "Talked about what?"

Cane folded his arms and leaned his hips back against the butcher-block island. With a shake of his head he said, "At first, I really did think that school in New York and the job in Vegas were good things. You wanting to get out of Dad's shadow. Make a name for yourself. And d.a.m.n girl, did you ever." The smile he gave her was full of pride, then, it turned to something else. "But after a few years of excuses and you never coming home, and a few more where you did and it was uncomfortable as h.e.l.l, I realized you knew."

At that one word, and the emphasis he placed on it, Colby's knees gave out.

"Oh, G.o.d." She fell back against the counter, covering her mouth with a shaky hand. "You knew, too."

"Walked in at the end of a phone call where he was apparently ending it," Cane replied. "Of course, Dad denied it. But I knew what I'd heard and by that point, I'd already heard the rumors. The woman left town not too long after that, and he came to me full of apologies." Cane laughed once, and harsh. "I wanted nothing to do with it. I was furious. Beyond furious-I was p.i.s.sed."

Colby nodded, knowing exactly how he felt. Except, Cane had been spared the visual.

"But after a while," Cane continued, "I don't know, he was still my dad. Mom was happier than I'd seen her in years. I never heard another rumor. It's not like I ever forgot what he did-I'll never forget that." He shrugged his large shoulders. "But I guess I forgave him for being flawed."

She didn't have a response to that. Her brother sounded so...healthy. Here she was in cat pajamas and ratty slippers, throwing away the best thing that had ever walked into her life, and her brother was suddenly Dr. Phil.

"Does Sherry know, too?" she asked.

A muscle ticked in Cane's jaw. "No. Whenever she asked what I thought was going on with you, I played up how busy you were. I shielded her from everything with Dad. Until a few years ago, I'd thought I'd shielded you. Clearly, I failed. And once I figured out that you knew, I should've done something. Talked to you about it."