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Jane!” she shrieked. “I knew you would come back because you have to be in the wedding. And we have to try on our dresses. Mine’s soooo pretty. Like your dress and Andi’s and Ally’s—well, but mine’s smaller. Ally’s is different because she’s the best maid and—”

      “Maid of honor,” Pete put in.

      “—maid of honor and she gets to be special. But I get to be special, too, because I’m going to carry flowers. Nobody else gets to carry flowers like mine—did you know that? And nobody else gets to drop them on the floor. Only me, right, Daddy?”

      “Right,” Pete said.

      “So that makes me extra-special!” She twirled, her backpack swinging wide, her shoulder-length blond hair fanning out behind.

      Jane’s fingers involuntarily tightened on her camera.

      “You’re extra-special every day, sweetheart.”

      Now Jane’s chest tightened, as if her heart had swelled just a bit. A man who loved his daughter couldn’t be all bad. Could he?

      Rachel laughed and turned to Jane again. “Miss Loring said it’s good to practice for very special things. Can you come and help me practice with the flowers?”

      It took Jane a moment to respond. “Uh...well, yes. We could do that.”

      “Today?”

      “Well...today or tomorrow.”

      “Promise?”

      “Yes, I promise.”

      “Good!” Rachel grinned at Jane again, then tugged on Pete’s hand. “I got the invitations, Daddy.”

      “She sure did,” said Jed, holding up a small yellow envelope. “In fact, I’m the first to receive one. Isn’t that right, Rachel?”

      “Yep. I gave one to Grandpa Jed first, Daddy. Is that okay?”

      “Fine by me,” Pete said.

      Rachel dug into her backpack. “Here’s one for you. And one for Tina. And one for Jane.” She handed them each an envelope. “And now I have to give one to Paz.”

      “She might be busy getting supper ready,” Pete told her.

      “But she told me she wants her invitation right away.”

      “Did she?”

      As he looked down at his daughter, Pete’s half smile softened his features. His dark eyelashes highlighted his hazel eyes. Jane’s fingers tightened on the camera again. It took a conscious effort to relax her grip.

      “C’mon, Rachel,” Jed said. “Let’s go see Paz.”

      “I’ll go with you.” Tina stepped from behind the registration desk. “Robbie ran right into the kitchen to talk to Abuela when he and Rachel came home.”

      Before Jane could blink, she found herself alone in the lobby with Pete, who stood watching his daughter skip down the hallway. In profile, his eyelashes looked long and thick, his lips firm, his jaw solid and beginning to darken with stubble.

      She wondered what she would have done if he had taken her up on the suggestion to climb into the bubble bath.

      But of course, she would have gone for the best angle—while hoping her shaking hands wouldn’t destroy the results.

      At photo shoots, she sometimes saw people—female and male—wearing nothing but scraps of clothing. She was used to that. She saw what the camera showed her, filtered through the lens. Yet simply the thought of seeing Pete Brannigan undressed seemed to be a whole other story.

      Maybe it was that sexy shadow on his jaw...or the light brown hair that turned golden in sunlight... Or maybe it was his broad shoulders and muscular chest...his sculpted arms and flat abs... Whatever it was, the man had what it took to grace the cover of any magazine.

      He turned his head and caught her looking at him.

      Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered her, but after their close encounter and his attempt to rattle her in the suite, she felt the need to say something. “It’s only an occupational hazard.”

      “Staring at me?”

      “In your dreams, cowboy. No, not you. Not even men specifically. Faces. Male or female. Cats, dogs, you name it.”

      “Even horses.”

      She nodded. “Even horses. Like Daffodil. And I wasn’t staring at you. I was observing.”

      “There’s a difference?”

      “Yes.” She reached for her camera, then realized she still held the envelope his daughter had given her. She raised it to his eye level. “Rachel’s a little young to be handing out wedding invitations, isn’t she? And if it’s for Tina’s wedding, I thought the bride had that covered.”

      He laughed, more at the mention of his daughter, she was sure, than in amusement over her comment, yet the sudden lightness in his expression sent a rush of pleasure through her.

      “Not a wedding,” he said. “It’s for her kindergarten graduation.”

      “Oh.” Silly, but the thought of being invited made her feel “extra-special.” She smiled.

      To her surprise, he frowned. “It’s not till after the wedding, and you and Andi will be gone. Don’t worry about making excuses to Rachel. I’ll explain to her why you can’t come.”

      “Maybe I’d rather make my own ‘excuses.’” There she went, allowing him to push her buttons again. Attending a kindergarten graduation would be the last thing she’d ever find on her agenda, but she couldn’t let Pete believe he could make her decisions for her. “I’ve been good about speaking up for myself ever since I was a kid.”

      “Yeah, I’d noticed.”

      “You’re not going to let the past go, are you?”

      “Past, present. Doesn’t seem to matter when it is—you like to argue.”

      “And you don’t?”

      “Nope. I just like to keep the conversation going till I get the last word.”

      She laughed. “Rachel seems to take after you.”

      “Not enough.” Suddenly, he was frowning again.

      “She does bear a striking resemblance to your wife.”

      “Ex-wife.” He clamped his teeth together so hard, a muscle in his jaw throbbed.

      “Ex-wife.”

      “And let’s just leave her out of this, all right?”

      Now she was the one to frown. “Is that what you say when Rachel asks about her?”

      “What I tell my daughter is none—” His jaws clamped shut again.

       None of your business.

      “Let’s just stick to business,” he added, “like my ex-wife does.”

      His flat statement only confirmed her thought about what he had wanted to say. And he was right. His conversations with his daughter were not her concern. Neither was his obviously rocky relationship with his ex-wife.

      “And,” he said, “I’d just as soon you not throw out any empty promises to Rachel, either.”

      “Empty promises?”

      “About helping her with the flowers.”

      “That wasn’t an empty promise.”

      “No? You didn’t sound interested, but you plan to follow through? Because you can’t just say something like that to a kid Rachel’s age and not expect her to take it to heart.”

      He

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