This was really happening.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go change, Abby?” her mum asked. “Put on a pretty dress? Some makeup perhaps?”
She was wearing tailored black slacks and a white shirt. Boring, but somehow she didn’t think Logan would be taking much notice of her today. This was about Jenny. She’d wanted to merge into the background.
“No thanks.”
“At least take your hair down.”
She frowned.
“Yes, mummy. Don’t you want to look pretty for daddy?” Jenny reached up and tugged the clip from her hair so it tumbled over her shoulders.
“Hey.”
The doorbell rang and she had no time to do anything about it. Taking a deep breath, she gave Jenny and her mum a quick smile and headed into the hallway. Then she took another deep breath and opened the front door.
As Logan walked up the drive, a prickle ran down his spine. He glanced to the side and saw the curtain twitch.
Was Abby watching him, regretting that he had ever come back into her life?
Was his daughter there?
Christ, get a grip.
He couldn’t remember being this scared since his first night in prison. As he came to a halt at the front door, he closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then pressed the doorbell. It seemed like an age before he heard footsteps. The door opened and Abby stood there. He glanced behind her but she was alone in the hallway.
“Hi,” he said, handing her the bottle of wine he carried and resisting the urge to wipe his palms down his pant legs.
I can do this.
“Come in.” She moved aside so he could pass, closed the door behind them, and followed him. “She’s through there with my mum,” she said waving a hand toward another door. “Did I mention my mum would be here? She lives with us. We would never have managed…” She was talking fast, and sounded as nervous as he was. That calmed him a little. As she leaned past him to open the door, he breathed in the scent of lemons, and the familiar smell dragged him back to the other night, the taste of her, the feel of her wrapped around him.
He slammed a lid on those memories. Now was not the time.
The door led into a lounge, but their surroundings faded as his gaze latched on to the girl standing in the center of the room, hands clasped in front of her, silver-gray eyes huge. He swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped through the door. There was no mistaking his daughter, and the knots in his stomach tightened as they stared at each other.
“Hello.”
He almost jumped as a woman stepped forward, a pleasant smile on her face. She held out her hand. “I’m Rachel, Abby’s mum.” She didn’t look old enough. While she had Abby’s heart-shaped face and blue eyes, her hair was blonde and curly and hung to her shoulders.
He shook her hand. “I’m Logan.”
Abby stepped up close to him. “And this young lady is Jenny.”
He returned his attention to his daughter. She was so…big. He hadn’t expected that. She was tall—almost as tall as Rachel—and slender. How could he have been instrumental in making something so beautiful? He was finding it hard to believe she was part of him. “Hi, Jenny.”
“Hi…” Jenny trailed off.
He hadn’t considered this—what did his daughter call him? Maybe he should have discussed it with Abby first. To hell with that. “Call me ‘dad.’ If you want.”
Jenny gave a shy smile. “Hi, Dad.”
His breath hitched, and for a moment he had no clue what to say or do… or even how to speak.
Rachel shook her head. “It’s uncanny, the likeness between the two of you. Let me take your coat, Logan.”
He shrugged out of the jacket and handed it to her. Beneath it, he wore a black button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and he caught Jenny staring at the black and red tattoos snaking down his arms. What would she think of him?
Rachel handed a glass of wine to Abby and an orange juice to Jenny. “Logan?”
“A beer would be great.” He glanced at Abby. “Don’t worry, sergeant, I’ll just have the one. You won’t have to arrest me today.” Jenny giggled and he turned back to her. “Is she really strict with you as well?”
She nodded.
“Liar,” Abby said. “I have to help your grandma finish cooking the lunch. Why don’t you show Logan your room?”
For a few seconds nobody moved, and his brain froze. Then Jenny obviously took pity on him and slid her hand into his. Hers felt small and fragile, and the knot tightened in his gut.
“Come on,” she said, leading him out of the room, only letting go of his hand as she headed up the stairs. He followed her, glancing back once. Abby stood in the doorway watching them, brows drawn together, nibbling her lower lip. Was she regretting this already?
Hard luck.