he house was huge. Even by Texas standards. It was made of stucco and stone and had a red tile roof. Adele guessed it was supposed to look like a Tuscan villa of some sort, but it had a slight Romano’s Macaroni Grill look to it, and she got an urge for shrimp scampi. Or maybe she was just hungry from spending all night in the hospital.

She parked her sister’s car under the portico, then moved beneath the vine-covered walk to a set of heavy wood doors with wrought-iron handles. She rang the doorbell and folded her arms against the morning chill. She’d run out of the house in such a hurry the night before, she’d forgotten a jacket.

The moment she’d driven into the gated community, she’d felt a slight unease. It reeked of the kind of money and exclusion that had always made her uncomfortable. Like an interloper. It wasn’t that she herself didn’t feel good enough. She was successful and made a very good living off her writing, but being back in Cedar Creek again reminded her of growing up in the small town. Of growing up just inside the boundary between the haves and have-nots.

As a kid, she’d been bused to schools in the wealthier neighborhoods, and she’d never really fit in. Partly because her family had been middle class, and partly because she’d lived a lot in her own head. She’d made a few friends in middle and high school, but she’d lost track of them after she’d left for UT.

She fit in a lot better with the good friends she’d made in Idaho. She felt like she belonged there more than she ever had in the place where she’d been born and raised. But here she was, back in Texas, standing on the porch of a mansion, out of place in her coffee-stained, thin white sweater that zipped up the front.

She’d been back in town a week. Seven exhausting days of helping her sister that had culminated in rushing Sherilyn to the hospital the night before. At least Adele had been able to wash her face and use a toothbrush she’d bought in the gift shop before she’d left to pick up Kendra.

One side of the heavy doors swung open, and a girl with long blond hair stood just inside. “Are you Kendra’s momma?” she asked, flattening her vowels like a true Texan.

“I’m her aunt.” The girl was very thin, and there was something vaguely familiar about her. Something Adele couldn’t put her finger on. Then again, maybe there was nothing. She was exhausted, and her mind was fuzzy.

“I’m Tiffany.” She swung the door open and smiled, showing a mouthful of braces. “Come on in. We’re just finishing up breakfast.”

Adele stepped inside and onto terra-cotta tiles with a Marcala medallion in the center of the large entry. Her flip-flops slapped her heels as she followed Tiffany down a hall and into the kitchen, where everything was made of marble, granite and stainless steel. Morning sunlight spilled through a large leaded-glass window, throwing odd patterns on the floor and commercial-grade appliances.

Within a splash of white light, Kendra stood with one hip shoved into a counter. Except for the Harris eyes, she looked just like her father, William.

“Where’s Mom?” Kendra asked, and took a bite of a Pop Tart with pink icing.

“I had to take her to the hospital last night.”

Kendra straightened and swallowed. “What’s wrong? Is she still there? Is she okay?”

“She has something call preeclampsia.”

“What’s that?”

Adele herself wasn’t quite sure. The doctors had talked a lot about high levels of protein and dangerously high blood pressure, but Adele had not really understood the how and why of it. Only that it was very serious. She explained the best she could. “It’s something that happens in the placenta that causes high blood pressure.” Maybe. “She’s okay, but the doctors say she has to stay in the hospital for a while.” There was a good chance Sherilyn would have to spend the four remaining months of her pregnancy in the hospital, which meant Adele was going to be stuck in Texas for longer than she’d planned. A lot longer.

“Is the baby okay?”

“He’s fine.” For now. “Go get your stuff, and I’ll take you to see her.”

Kendra nodded, and her fine dark hair fell across her cheek. She walked from the kitchen, her Pop Tart forgotten in her hand. Adele wished she knew her niece better and knew what to say, but she didn’t, and she felt a little guilty about that. Adele hadn’t seen Kendra since her niece’s seventh birthday, and she’d grown up a lot in six years. Her body was maturing, and she’d started to wear a little bit of makeup to school this year. Not a lot, but it wouldn’t be long until she was smack-dab in the middle of her teenage years.

“Are you from Fort Worth?” Tiffany asked.

Adele turned her gaze to the young girl in front of her. “No. I’m from Idaho.”

Tiffany nodded and pushed her hair behind her ears. “I’ve been to Des Moines.”

That was Iowa, but Adele didn’t bother to correct Tiffany. A lot of adults thought Idaho was in the Midwest, too. “Did you girls have a good time last night?” she asked in an effort to hold up her side of the conversation. She hadn’t been around teens since she’d been one herself and didn’t really know what to say to someone twenty-two years younger. What did teenage girls do these days?

“Kendra’s gonna try out for the dance team, and I’m helpin’ her with the routines. Two girls got cut on account of gettin’ caught at a beer party doin’ keg stands.”

Apparently teens were doing keg stands. Adele hadn’t begun her keg-standing career until college.

“Kendra danced at her old school, but you probably know that.”

Actually, she didn’t. Adele listened as Tiffany rambled on about her dance team and their chances of making it to nationals this year. And the more she talked, the more Adele felt there was something familiar about the girl. But that something wasn’t quite clear in Adele’s tired brain.

“I can’t find my dance shoes,” Kendra said as she walked toward them, her sweatshirt in one hand and a backpack slung over one shoulder. Her eyes were red and her cheeks smeared with tears as if she’d just wiped a palm across her face.

Tiffany turned on her heels and walked from the kitchen. “You probably left them in the living room.”

Adele put her arm around her niece’s shoulders, and they followed Tiffany. “Your mom and the baby are going to be just fine. When I left, she was eating breakfast, and the baby was kicking.” Not that she’d felt any kicking herself.

“Really?”

“Really. She’s going to need lots of rest, but I’ll be around to help out.” They moved into the dark living room, and Adele gave her niece’s shoulder a squeeze before she dropped her arm to her side. “Try not to worry.”

“I always wanted a little brother,” Tiffany said as she flipped a switch. Delicate wrought-iron chandeliers lit up a large room with the furnishings pushed back against the walls. The large rugs had been rolled up leaving the middle bare. “But my momma and daddy only had me,” she added.

“I always thought it would be nice to have an older brother.” Adele moved farther into the room and glanced about for Kendra’s shoes. At the far end, a fireplace made of gold-and-brown marble dominated one wall. Columns and leaves were carved into the smooth stone, and like the rest of the house, it bordered on over the top. “A little brother would have been really ni—” She stopped in midsentence, her mouth fell open and the air whooshed from her lungs. Above the mantel, caressed by the warm glow of special lighting, Devon Hamilton stared down at her from a life-sized portrait. Her green eyes cold and her lips pressed into that I’m-better-than-you smile Adele recognized.

Tiffany moved beside her and looked up. “That’s my momma.”

Adele moved her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Shock hit her stomach, while hot little pinpricks spread up her chest to her face. She took one step back, then another.

“She died a few years ago.”

Adele stopped. Shock number two. Devon is dead? “I’m sorry,” she whispered past the clog in her throat.

“Wasn’t she beautiful? Like an angel.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she managed.

“It’s just me and Daddy now.”

Daddy. Tiffany and Kendra went to school together, which meant Tiffany was also thirteen. Which also meant…holy crap. In her shock over Devon, she’d forgotten all about Daddy. “Kendra, we’ve got to go. Now!”

Both girls looked at her, and Kendra said, “I need my shoes.”

“Get them another time.” Adele headed toward the door.

“Maybe I left them downstairs.”

“I’ll wait in the car,” Adele said over her shoulder as she moved through the entry and out the door. “This can’t be happening,” she whispered to herself. Her fingers felt cold, and she shook her hands. She twisted an ankle on the uneven cobblestones in the walkway, but she didn’t let a little thing like pain shooting up her shin slow her down. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this.” She hooked a right beneath the portico and moved toward Sherilyn’s Celica. At one time or another, every woman alive fantasized about running into an ex and making him sorry he’d dumped her. Adele had had those fantasies. She’d had them a time or two about Zach Zemaitis, but she’d always pictured herself sizzling hot, not looking like crap with coffee down her sweater.

She pulled a set of keys from the pocket of her jeans. God, just get me out of here. She looked up, and the keys fell from her numb fingers at the sight of shock number three jogging up the driveway toward her. The sunlight caught in Zach Zemaitis’s hair like a halo and a pair of Oakley Thump Pros rested on the bridge of his nose. Her heart pounded in her ears as the soles of his running shoes pounded the uneven cobblestones with ease.

Within the shadow of the portico, Adele stood frozen, afraid to breathe as he jogged up the drive. He gazed straight ahead, and with any luck, he’d run right on by without seeing her. But lately, Adele’s luck had been fairly shitty, and just before he disappeared from sight, his head turned, and he looked right at her. His footsteps slowed and stopped. He retraced a few steps backward, and a crease furrowed his brow. For several long seconds, he simply stared at her, pinning Adele with a gaze she could feel rather than see. He was breathing a bit heavy as he pulled air into his lungs, and he slowly raised a hand to his temple and turned off the MP3 built into the slim frame of his glasses. He pulled the little speakers from his ears, then pushed the black sunglasses to the top of his head. Across the distance he looked at her through the dark brown eyes that used to make her heart squeeze and her stomach ache. His brows lowered over his steady gaze, and he walked from the sunlight into the shadow. With each step of his jogging shoes, her heart pounded a little faster in her chest, and she put a hand on the trunk of the car to keep from keeling over…or passing out…or jumping in the car and locking the doors.

After all these years, he still moved the same. Relaxed as if he was saving his energy for something important. Like throwing a long bomb, sprinting past a determined lineman, or exerting himself in bed. Sweat dampened the armpits of a blue X-TERRA T-shirt that fit loose about his wide chest. A pair of gray cotton jogging shorts rested low on his hips and fell midway to his powerful thighs. He was bigger than she remembered. His jaw was stronger, his cheekbones more defined. Age had not robbed him of one ounce of his good looks. If anything, he was even more gorgeous than she remembered. And as she forced herself to stand there and face Zach instead of jumping in the car and peeling out on his nice cobblestone driveway, she held on to a desperate hope that perhaps he didn’t recognize her.

“Adele?” So much for her desperate hope.

“Hello,” she managed. “How are you, Zach?”

“Surprised.” His voice was different. Deeper. More masculine than she remembered, but his accent was pure Texas. “It’s been a long time.”

Fourteen years.

His gaze moved across her face to her unruly hair. “You look the same.”

He didn’t. He looked better. More like a man. “I’m here to pick up my niece, Kendra.”

“Oh.” His gaze returned to hers and after several long heartbeats, he said, “I’ll get her.” He turned toward the door and took a few steps.

“She knows I’m here.”

He turned back toward her and the early-morning sun filtered though the vines above his head and cut slashes of light across his eyes and the full crease of his mouth.

“I had to take her mother to the hospital,” Adele explained. “She’s still there.”

A single bead of sweat ran down his right temple. He raised his arm and wiped the side of his face with the short sleeve of his T-shirt. “You took her last night?”

“Yes.”

He dropped his arm to his side and lowered his gaze to the coffee stain on her sweater. “Nothing serious, I hope.”

“Not really,” she lied, and clenched her hands to keep from covering the stain. “I heard about Devon.”

He looked up. “Yes. She was killed in a car accident three years ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Shock number four. She’d actually said that without choking.

“Thank you.” He took a few steps toward her, and she had to remind herself to breathe. “The Junior League isn’t quite the same without her.” He bent forward and picked up the keys at her feet. “Or so they tell me.” He rose to stand, so close that the scent of his warm skin touched her nose. There had been a time when she would have breathed deep and sucked the scent of him deep into her lungs, but those days were long over. “I didn’t realize you live in Cedar Creek,” he said.

“I don’t. I’m just here until my sister has her baby.”

“When’s the baby due?”

When? He was so close that she took a step back and bumped into the trunk of her sister’s car. “Around Valentine’s day,” she answered.

“Four months.” He reached forward and grasped her wrists. He slid his warm palm to the back of her hand and turned it up. “That’s a long visit,” he said, and dropped her keys into her hand.

“Yes.” Her gaze lowered to their hands and the words “Carpe Diem” tattooed in bold script on the inside of his forearm from elbow to wrist. Unless he’d had it removed, he had a pair of interlocking tattooed Z’s circling his left biceps, too.

The heavy door to the house opened and shut behind Kendra and Tiffany, and Adele closed her hand and pulled it from his grasp. “Too long.” The girls moved from beneath the vine-covered walkway into the shade of the portico. “Did you find your shoes?” she asked, and purposely turned her attention to her niece.

Kendra nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Zemaitis. I had a really good time.”

“I’m sorry about your momma.” He took a few steps back, and Adele quickly slid around the side of the car. “Let us know if there is anything we can do for y’all.” His deep voice held a hint of a smile when he added, “It was nice to see you again, Adele.”

Adele reached for the door handle and looked across at him. His lips were curved up at the corners, but she couldn’t say that it was nice to see him. Beyond the shock of seeing him after so many years, she felt nothing. No lifting of her heart. No butterflies in her stomach or warm tingles at the backs of her knees. “Good-bye, Zach.” She joined Kendra in the car and refused to look into the rearview mirror until she pulled away. Through the glass, she caught one last glimpse of the man who’d once crushed her heart. He put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and moved toward the house.

Adele returned her attention to the driveway and pulled out into the street. He’d been the first man with whom she’d had sex. She’d saved herself because she’d thought she had to be in love to make love. “Right.” She made a scoffing sound and reached for her sunglasses. She’d never made that mistake again. As she’d discovered in the past fourteen years, sometimes some of the best sex had nothing to do with love. Sometimes it was just a hot release of pent-up lust. Although lately, she wouldn’t know. Being cursed played hell with her sex life.

“Did anyone call Daddy?”

She slid the glasses on her face and glanced at Kendra. “I’m not sure.” But she doubted it. “Do you want to call him?”

Kendra shrugged. “I don’t know if he cares what happens to us.”

Adele turned her full attention to Kendra and issues more important than an old boyfriend, lack of sex, and curses. “I’m sure he cares what happens to you.”

“No.” Kendra shook her head. “I thought when he found out the baby was a boy, he’d want us all to live together again. But he only cares about Stormy.”

“Stormy.” Adele made a gagging sound and wrinkled her nose as if she’d smelled something rotten. “What a stupid name.”

“She’s a bitch.” Kendra glanced at Adele out of the corners of her eyes as if she expected to be reprimanded for swearing.

“Yeah. A bitch with a stupid name,” Adele added as she drove through the gates and out into the real world where the air was a bit easier to breathe.

“Momma says I shouldn’t hate anyone, but I hate Stormy.”

Adele reached for her water bottle between the two front seats and unscrewed the cap. Sherilyn had always tried to be so good. The perfect Southern lady and look where that had gotten her. Adele had never tried to be perfect like her sister, but she had always tried to be kind. To be thoughtful of other people, and look where that had gotten her. She took a long drink and replaced the cap. She might not be alone and pregnant, but she was alone and cursed with one bad date after another. “I hate a lot of things.” Being surprised by an old boyfriend was currently at the top of the list.

“I hate peas.” Kendra fiddled with the zipper pull of her backpack. “I hate Cedar Creek. It’s just so small.”

“True, but you’ve already made friends. Tiffany seems like a nice girl.” Which was true and also a surprise, given her mother. Although, Zach had always been polite. Sometimes sarcastically so. He’d once told her that the fear of three-hundred-pound linebackers was nothing compared to slipping with a curse word or being disrespectful in front of his mother.

It was nice to see you again, Adele, he’d said, but he was probably just being polite. Not that she cared.

A dele had lost her accent. A smile curved Zach’s lips. Well, she might have lost that Southern, melt-you-like-butter voice spilling from her full red mouth, but she was still as hot as all hell. Still had those long curls and turquoise eyes that looked slightly drowsy even when she was wide-awake. Still looked good in other places, too.

Zach dried his hair with a towel, then hung it on the heated towel rack in the bathroom. He grabbed his electric razor and walked into his bedroom. He had half an hour to get to his office at Cedar Creek High to review last night’s game tapes with the other coaches. He shaved as he dressed in blue boxers, a pair of Levi’s, and a Cougars Coaching Staff sweatshirt.

She hadn’t seemed very happy to see him, though. In fact, she’d been all fired up to leave. Which was probably for the best. He wasn’t the kind of guy who lived in the past or thought much about what might or could have been. He didn’t relive his glory days in the NFL, nor did he rehash his mistakes. God knows there’d been enough of those.

Zach pointed his chin to the ceiling and shaved just below his jaw. When he did look back on his life, he saw it in three distinct parts. Before the NFL, during, and his life now. He’d known Adele a few lifetimes ago, and he had little interest in a trip down memory lane. Especially with a woman who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

He shut off his razor and tossed it on the dresser. She did look good, though. As beautiful as ever, and the front of her sweater had been real interesting. His smile tilted up a bit more. She’d obviously been cold.

“Daddy,” Tiffany called out a second before she knocked. Typical of her, she didn’t wait for an answer before she stuck her head inside. “When ya gonna be back?”

“Probably around two.” He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled on a pair of clean socks. The team needed to work more on their passing game now that Don was out for the rest of the season. Zach had a lot of tricks in his playbook and running the Pistol offense was one of them. He’d talk to the other coaches, but it was a lot easier to run play action out of the Pistol.

“Can I have a few friends over while you’re gone?”

“You need to put the living room back together while I’m gone.”

Tiffany’s shoulder slumped. “Daddy.”

He shoved his feet into his black Pumas and bent over to tie the laces. “And the television room is a mess. There are dirty cups and bowls all over the place.”

“We need a maid,” she said through a long, drawn-out sigh and folded her skinny arms over her skinny chest.

When Devon had been alive, they’d had a full-time maid. Now they had a maid service once a week. “No.” He stood. “We need you to pick up after yourself.”

“If I clean up, can I have a get-together?”

He moved to his dresser and slid his watch onto his wrist. “When and what kind?”

“Next weekend. The girls from my dance team.”

Twelve thirteen-year-olds. Twelve emotional thirteen-year-olds prone to high-pitched screaming and drama. Last summer, one of Tiffany’s friends had locked herself in the bathroom with a cell phone and had cried to her boyfriend all day. What was a thirteen-year-old girl doing with a boyfriend anyway? Zach would rather get kicked in the nuts than go through that again. “Next game is on Saturday in Midland. Kickoff ’s at one, so I’ll be leaving Friday sometime.”

“Is Leanna coming over?” she asked, referring to the neighbor girl Zach hired to stay with Tiffany when he had to go out of town.

“Yep.”

“Cool. Can I have my party Sunday? You’ll be home.”

“Honey,” he said through a sigh, “I’m goin’ to be tired, and you have school the next day.”

“You can sleep in, and I’ll do all the work.” She dropped her hands to her sides. The girl was relentless as her mother had been. “And I’ll make sure everyone is out of here early. Please, Daddy?”

He frowned, and she took it for a yes and bounced up and down on her heels with excitement. “If it’s nice, can we barbecue outside?” she asked.

“I doubt it will be that nice.” He moved across the room. “If it is, I don’t see why not.”

She put her palms together like she was praying and clapped her fingers. “Yay. Can I invite boys?”

He stopped and looked down into her face. She’d never shown any interest in boys before. “No. No boys.” He pointed a finger at her nose. “Ever.”

“Why?”

He continued out of the room and down the hall. Because he knew thirteen-year-old boys. He’d been one himself. “Stay away from boys.”

“You’re a boy.”

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He didn’t want to talk about boys. Talking about boys would lead to talking about sex, and that was one conversation he didn’t want to have with his little girl. Not yet. She was too young. A few months ago they’d had the first bra conversation, and that had about killed him. “Your new friend Kendra seems nice,” he said, changing the subject.

“Yeah. I think she’s good enough to make the dance team.”

“Why’s her momma in the hospital?” He unscrewed the lid and took a drink.

“She has high blood pressure.”

Zach licked a drop of water from his lip. High blood pressure? It was obviously more serious than it sounded. “Did you talk to her aunt?”

“She was kinda weird.”

He looked down at the bottle. “Weird how?”

Tiffany shrugged. “Kind of in a hurry.”

He’d noticed that. He raised his gaze to his daughter. “Is she from Fort Worth, like Kendra and her mom?”

Tiffany shook her head. “She said she’s from Ohio. Des Moines, I think.”

“Honey, that’s Iowa.”

“Oh.”

He slowly screwed and unscrewed the cap. “Did she, a…mention if she’s married?” He hadn’t noticed a ring when he’d placed her keys in her palm, but that didn’t mean anything. For whatever reason, a lot of married people didn’t wear rings.

“She didn’t say.”

“Kids?”

“I don’t know.” A suspicious frown appeared between Tiffany’s eyes, and she looked just like Devon. “Why?”

Yeah. Why? Zach shrugged one shoulder and took a drink of water.

“You don’t think she’s cute, do you?”

Cute? Puppies were cute. Kittens were cute. Adele Harris was sexier than a row of pole dancers, and since it had been a long time since Zach had seen dancing of any kind, mattress, pole, or otherwise, that sounded pretty damn sexy to him. He lowered the bottle. “Sugar, I just like to know who Kendra’s people are,” he lied because some thoughts were better left in his own head.

Tiffany smiled. “Momma liked to know the same thing.”

Yeah, he knew that. Devon had been real big on people’s people.

Tiffany wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest above his heart. “I miss Momma, but I’ve got you, and we don’t need anyone else. Do we?”

He wrapped his arms around her skinny shoulders and pressed a kiss into the part of her light blond hair. “No,” he answered because he knew that’s what she needed to hear. No women with curly hair, turquoise-colored eyes, and interesting points on her sweater.