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what she was feeling as he took charge. She was up to at least a dozen reasons why this had been a bad idea by the time the elevator doors slid open in the subterranean parking garage. No one was going to welcome them, the opposite in fact. His mother would probably pitch a fit laced with high drama, Fowler would sneer and that nasty Marceline would be cutting and cruel as always. Another half brother, Zane, was much nicer, and although the big man was intimidating, Jolie had always thought of him as fair. But then, she’d always thought his full brother, Reid, had been a good guy, and he’d left the Dallas Police Department in disgrace over a year ago, after some corruption scandal that had ended up with his partner dead. She’d been too busy at the time to follow the case, had in fact avoided it once she realized it was truly Reid Colton involved; the last thing she needed was more in her head reminding her of T.C.

      No, the only Colton sibling she’d really bonded with had been Piper, because Piper, adopted by T.C.’s parents after her mother’s death, knew what it was like to come from nothing and to always be the outsider. But even Piper would probably hate her now, for what she’d done to her brother, adoptive or not.

      “Maybe...maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Jolie began, but stopped as a car pulled up in front of them. A uniformed valet got out of the light blue SUV, a young man who looked fresh out of high school.

      “Vacuumed, gassed up and ready, Mr. C,” he said, leaving the driver’s door open.

      “Thanks, Jordy. How’s your dad doing?”

      The young man smiled. “Lots better, thanks, Mr. C. He said to thank you for the barbecue.”

      T.C. grinned at the kid. “When I was in the hospital last year, that was the thing I missed most.”

      “Him, too.” Jordy walked around and opened the passenger door. He also opened the back passenger door, and Jolie saw with surprise that there was a child’s booster seat already strapped in. She flicked a glance at T.C., who only shrugged.

      “Hannah is very efficient.”

      “Obviously,” she said. “But you have these just sitting around, waiting?”

      “Mrs. Alcott said to take it out of her car,” Jordy explained. “Her grandkids are off somewhere. Here you go, princess,” he added, smiling at Emma, who smiled back in obvious delight.

      “That was kind of her to even think of it.” Jolie smiled at the young valet. “And thank you for getting it in right. I always have trouble.”

      The young man grinned. “I’ve got five little brothers and sisters. I know car seats.”

      Jolie smiled, but still checked the fastening herself once Emma was inside. Then she got in herself. The valet smiled back, then tapped his forehead in a salute toward T.C. and turned and left, whistling cheerfully.

      “Nice guy,” Jolie said as T.C. got into the car.

      “Yes. He’s a good kid. Even if he does want to be a rodeo star.”

      She gave him a sideways look. “Is there a kid in Texas who hasn’t wanted that at some point?”

      “Not that I know of.”

      He said it lightly, and as if he didn’t remember at all telling her that being a professional calf roper had once been his highest ambition. That had engendered a lengthy discussion of the various rodeo sports, from bull riding to barrel racing, and the strength and skills required for each, which had morphed into a discussion of his dream to someday breed top-drawer cow horses.

      And she realized belatedly that her protest about this perhaps not being the best idea was long past, and here she was going along as if she’d never had those second, third and many more thoughts.

      He put the car in gear, and in moments they were at the driveway out onto the busy street. He gave her a questioning glance.

      “Where are we going?”

      She couldn’t seem to find any words, least of all the ones that would get her out of this situation she was now regretting she’d gotten into.

      “We live at Cliff Park,” Emma piped up from the back seat.

      Jolie nearly jumped. T.C. said nothing, but she thought his focus had suddenly sharpened. Her first thought was to hush the child, but then she wondered what she had expected. Emma was merely following her mother’s lead, so she had no reason to mistrust this man. And for all the “be wary of strangers” lessons she had given the girl, it had to be clear to even the four-year-old that this man was not a stranger. And before her mind could leap to all the ways in which he was not a stranger, she looked away from him. She didn’t want to see the expression on his face.

      “It’s changed,” she said. “There are parts that are still bad, but our neighborhood is much safer.”

      She stopped, realizing she was talking about the place where Emma had nearly been kidnapped, or worse.

      “It’s what I can afford and still get to work in less than an hour most days.” She sounded surly even to her own ears. She tried for a more even tone. “And my place has been redone. It’s really nice.”

      “Jolie.”

      It was the first time he’d said her name. She suppressed the little shiver that went through her. “What?”

      “I didn’t say anything about where you live.”

      “You didn’t have to.”

      She heard him take in a deep breath. “If we’re going to get there, I’m going to need more than just the neighborhood.”

      “Oh.”

      She gave him the address. And was startled into silence when, as he pulled out and merged into a brief break in the traffic, he tapped a button on the steering wheel and a disembodied voice said from above her head, “Select name and action.”

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