Chapter Twenty-Three

“Can we go to Daddy’s place and play Hisss?” Eva Grace asked as they started up the walkway to the hotel. “That would be awesome.”

“I’m afraid not, sweetie.” Abby pretended not to notice that Eva Grace had called Jonah Daddy again. It was as if once used, the title had become permanently glued to her tongue. All the way back from the zoo, it had been “Daddy this” and “Daddy that.”

Jonah hadn’t quit smiling since they’d left the zoo. Abby had to admit, his happy mood was contagious, and she found herself wishing all three of them could spend the evening together.

“Why not?” Eva Grace’s voice stopped just short of a whine.

“I have to work tonight.” Abby caught her daughter’s hand in hers and gave it a big swing just before they entered the hotel lobby. “You get to spend the evening with Matilda.”

“I want to be with Daddy.”

Iris, who was currently covering the front desk, reminded Abby of a hunting dog on high alert. Head up. Eyes fixed on the bird, er, on Jonah.

Abby cursed the blush stealing up her cheeks.

“Did I hear someone say my name?” Matilda glided from the restaurant into the hotel lobby.

“Eva Grace said she wanted to spend the evening with her daddy.” Iris gestured with her head toward Jonah. In her white damask shirtwaist, black linen skirt, and tie, Iris could have stepped straight out of a 1900s schoolroom.

Matilda’s serene expression never wavered. “If Abby is agreeable, I’m okay with Jonah watching Eva Grace. I have some paperwork to catch up on anyway.”

The older woman shot Abby a pointed glance. “But I’m available if you need me.”

Before answering, Abby shifted to Jonah and lifted a brow.

His expression gave nothing away. “Whatever you think best.”

“Your daddy will watch you,” Abby told her daughter, then held out a hand when Eva Grace started jumping up and down. “But he has to watch you here. You have school tomorrow.”

When Eva Grace opened her mouth to protest, Jonah took her hand.

“We’ll play that squirrel game.” He kept his voice easy. “That sounds like fun to me.”

Eva Grace’s eyes narrowed, studying him. “I always fill my acorn log first.”

Jonah inclined his head. “Really? Always?”

“Most of the time,” Eva Grace admitted. “I don’t want you to be sad if you don’t win.”

“Sometimes,” Jonah said in a philosophical tone, “the acorns don’t fall your way. The only shame is in not doing your best. Understand?”

Eva Grace nodded. “I understand. You won’t be sad if you lose.”

Jonah just smiled.

“I’ll run in and change,” Abby told Iris. “It won’t take a minute.”

“Take your time.” Iris’s blue eyes sparkled. “It’s been ages since we’ve talked. I’d love to catch up.”

+

While Jonah and Eva Grace set up the board game, Abby changed into a blue-and-green-plaid dress with three-quarter-length sleeves and a thin patent-leather belt that emphasized her tiny waist.

Regardless of what Iris said, Abby didn’t want to keep the woman waiting past the end of her shift. She kept her hair simple, rolling it under in a sleek pageboy style. Conscious of time, she merely extended her eyeliner past the crease with an uptick and added some lipstick.

Abby paused in the doorway to the living room, her heart lurching at the sight of two blond heads bent over the board. Jonah had the squirrel tweezers in hand and was making them snap.

“Like the crocodile at the zoo,” she heard Eva Grace say as she stepped into the room.

“You look pretty, Mommy.” Her daughter’s eyes zeroed in on the Trifari necklace with its cobalt-blue flowers, each centered by a tiny crystal.

Jonah rose to his feet, his gaze slowly traveling down from her face to her blue peep-toe heels and back up. “Beautiful.”

How was it that such a simple glance could infuse her body with warmth? “Thank you both.”

Abby turned her attention to Jonah. “I believe our last guests are scheduled to check in around seven. Then I’ll put up the sign and forward all calls to my cell.”

“That’s okay, Mommy.” Eva Grace flashed a bright smile. “We’re going to be busy playing.”

Leaning over, Abby brushed a kiss on the top of her daughter’s head. “Be good. As soon as I get back, it’s shower, book, and bedtime.”

Eva Grace nodded.

Abby shifted her gaze to Jonah and felt a punch of lust. This physical desire was something new, and she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. Though she’d only slept with one other man, a boy back in her college years, she couldn’t recall ever feeling this way.

It was as if making love after a long period of abstinence had reawakened dormant desires. Hopefully, it would only take doing it a couple more times more to get her hormones back in check.

From the hungry look in Jonah’s eyes, Abby had the feeling he wouldn’t mind helping her out in that area.

Though the rational part of her brain screamed at her to slow this train down, Abby told herself she had everything under perfect control.

She blinked when she realized that while her mind had wandered, Jonah had moved close.

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he planted a kiss on her lips. “Shout if you need anything.”

Abby resisted the urge to touch her tingling lips with her fingers.

“Daddy, I’m ready to play.”

“Coming,” Jonah called out, then shot Abby a wink. “Hurry back.”

Abby could still taste his lips when she stepped to the front desk. Conscious of Iris’s curious glance, Abby feigned an innocent expression. “How many more are we expecting?”

“Two.” Iris glanced at the computer screen. “Then we’re full. The man called to confirm the room. He said he’d be here in thirty minutes, and that was a half hour ago, so I expect him any time. I have a note that the couple out of Wisconsin should be here by seven.”

“Perfect.” Abby turned the vase of flowers on the desk a half turn, then glanced at the clock. “Have a fabulous evening.”

Iris didn’t move a muscle other than to lift a blonde brow that had been darkened with pencil to chocolate brown. “Daddy?”

Although Abby had hoped to not have to explain any of this until she felt more settled about it herself, she knew better. This was Hazel Green. While it technically was a Chicago suburb, it retained a small-town feel.

“Jonah Rollins is Eva Grace’s biological father.” If she was going to do this, Abby vowed to keep it simple. “Eva Grace now knows this, and that’s why she’s calling him Daddy.”

“Where’s he been all this time?”

Iris’s question didn’t surprise her. Her close friends all knew that Abby had been a surrogate for a couple who had changed their minds because of the woman’s health issues.

“He’s been in Springfield, but we’re happy he’s living here now.”

“What about his wife?”

“He’s divorced.”

“Is she interested in getting acquainted with Eva Grace as well?”

“No.” That was all Abby planned to say on the subject of Veronica.

Iris blinked but dropped that line of questioning for a far more personal one. “Are you and Jonah involved?”

“We’re getting reacquainted.” Abby waved an airy hand even as her stomach lurched. She still hadn’t come to grips with just how close they’d become. “Jonah and I have been friends since childhood.”

While the comment didn’t really answer Iris’s question, the explanation appeared to satisfy her friend.

Iris slung her purse over her shoulder. “You look happy.”

Before Iris could say more, or leave as Abby hoped she would, the bells over the door jingled, and a man stepped into the lobby.

Abby guessed the guy to be about her age or perhaps a couple of years older. He wore a well-cut suit as dark as his hair. The way his piercing eyes slid around the lobby sent a slight chill up her spine.

Lean and muscular, he moved like a panther, his shiny loafers soundless on the wood floor.

He carried a small leather bag in one hand and a briefcase in the other. Setting them down on the floor, he flashed a surprisingly warm smile. “This is a beautiful place. Circa 1880s?”

His smile drew her in, and the eyes that had seemed so sharp and assessing only seconds before brimmed with good humor. He possessed an indefinable knack, Abby realized, of making a person feel as if she were the only one in the room. Or at least the only one who mattered. Having his full attention was a heady experience.

Still, something about that abundance of charm had red flags popping up.

“The hotel opened in 1884.” Abby thought Iris would slip out the door, but instead the blonde lingered. “Welcome to Hazel Green, Mr. Carlyle.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Fine.”

Abby froze but kept her voice even. “How do you know my name?”

“Nothing sinister, I assure you.” He chuckled as if even the thought was ridiculous. “I checked out your website before making the reservation. Your picture and name were there.”

Abby chided herself for making a big deal out of nothing and looking like a fool in the bargain.

“The pictures and information are organized and helpful, but what I noticed were the little touches. Things as simple as the soap you choose to use in your hotel and sell on your website. It’s obvious you care about the happiness of the people who stay under your roof. They aren’t just customers to you.” That charming smile flashed again as he pulled out a credit card and handed it to her to swipe.

“Thank you for the compliment. If you’re hungry, Matilda’s is open until eight.” Abby gestured with her head while studying the card. American Express. Dixon Carlyle. Once the charge for the one night he’d booked went through, she returned the card to him, noticing his perfectly filed nails.

“Thank you. I appreciate the recommendation, but I’ve already eaten.”

Abby wondered what had brought him to Hazel Green. “If there’s anything I can do to make your stay more enjoyable, please let me know.”

He picked up his bag and briefcase, then paused as if a thought had just occurred to him. “I realize this may be a long shot, but are you by any chance acquainted with Cornelia Ambrose?”

Though he seemed quite sincere, if he’d studied her website as keenly as he’d indicated, he couldn’t have missed the picture of her with Nell—dressed as Hazel Green—in the section devoted to town events.

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Some sixth sense kept Abby from admitting more.

Interest sparked in those warm brown eyes, and the smile he offered oozed charm. “Do you happen to know where I could find her this evening? Or perhaps you have her cell number?”

When Abby and Iris only exchanged glances, he waved a hand. “We’re old friends. I plan to stop by her law office tomorrow, but if possible, I’d love to connect with her tonight.”

If this guy thought she would hand over Nell’s home address or cell number to a stranger, he was crazy. She didn’t think Dixon Carlyle was crazy. He was simply a man who used charisma and good looks to get what he wanted. “If you give me your cell number, I’m happy to pass it along.”

Though his lips never lost the smile, his gaze turned penetrating, as if he was taking her measure, seeing how far he could push.

When he nodded, Abby assumed he’d seen that no matter how much charm he oozed or how much he pushed, he wouldn’t get what he wanted. Not from her.

Retrieving a business card from inside his suit jacket, Dixon flipped it over. Taking a pen from the desk, he wrote his phone number in precise strokes. “I appreciate your willingness to help. Thank you, and have a lovely evening.”

Abby made short work of handing over the key and let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding when he started up the stairs.

“Wow.” Abby tapped her fingers on the top of the desk. “That was strange.”

“Who do you think he is?” Iris spoke in hushed tones, as if worried Dixon was at the top of the steps listening to their conversation.

Something told Abby that such a worry wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. “He says he’s a friend of Nell’s. I’ll give her a call. She might be eager to connect.”

“After the first glance, he totally dismissed me. But he was checking you out big time.” Iris continued to keep her voice low. “He liked what he saw.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “Puh-leeze.”

“I’m serious.” Iris’s blue eyes were intense. “You just have Jonah on the brain, so you didn’t notice.”

“Whatever.” Abby laughed and gave her friend a playful shove out the door.

When she turned back, she brought the card to eye level. “Dixon Carlyle, Carlyle Investments.”

The address listed was on Michigan Avenue in downtown Chicago.

Who are you, Dixon Carlyle? Abby wondered. What is your connection to Nell?

Abby pulled out her phone, eager to call her friend and get her reaction. She hesitated. Though she definitely thought Iris had overreacted, the remote possibility that the man might be lurking at the top of the steps listening had her texting Nell instead.

Dixon Carlyle checked into hotel. Says he’s a friend. Wants you to call him.

Chewing on her lip, Abby considered what else to say. She wanted to ask who he was and whether Nell had any idea why he was in Hazel Green. Something told her Nell wasn’t expecting him.

Dixon Carlyle was Nell’s business, Abby reminded herself.

She keyed the phone number from the card into the text and hit “Send.”

A second later, the couple scheduled to arrive at seven walked through the door.

She learned they were from Door County, Wisconsin, and in town to see their grandson, who had been injured in his first high school football game as a starter Friday night.

“Trevor had been waiting for that opportunity.” The woman, Libby George, had brown hair cut in a stylish bob. She looked much too young to have a grandson that old. “The first-string quarterback had been underperforming, so the coach gave Trev the nod. We wanted to come and watch, but Steve couldn’t get off work. Amy, that’s our daughter, texted us that Trev had injured his knee. Then this morning she told us that doctor had decided he needed surgery. Steve and I couldn’t stay away.”

“I’m so sorry to hear he was injured. I’ll pray for a speedy recovery.” Abby glanced at the screen. “I’ve got you down for two nights.”

“That’s correct.” Steve stepped forward and spoke for the first time.

Once the couple had entered the hotel lobby, Libby’s husband, a burly man with short-cropped dark hair, had moved immediately to the window overlooking Main Street, phone pressed to his ear.

“We would have stayed with our daughter,” Libby told her, pulling out her credit card, “but they have a foreign exchange student this year. They gave Hans their guest bedroom, which means either Amy and Todd would have to give us their bed, and they’d sleep on the sofa or—”

“Honey.” Steve stopped the rambling with a gentle hand on his wife’s arm. “She only wants to confirm we’re staying two nights and not one.”

A flush colored Libby’s ivory cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’m just so stressed about Trevor—”

“Nothing to be sorry about. I have a daughter who has had surgery in the past. It’s very scary.” Abby thought back to those trying times.

“Thank you.” Libby reached over and handed Abby the credit card. “I knew you’d understand.”

Unlike Dixon, the couple greeted the news that Matilda’s was still open with enthusiasm. In fact, Libby went to secure a table while Steve carried their overnight bags down the hall to their room.

Abby put up the sign and forwarded any calls that would come in to her cell. For a moment, she stood as memories of Jonah on the football field flooded back. She could picture him in his red jersey and helmet. Springfield High Senators. While she hadn’t been Jonah’s girlfriend back then, she had been his biggest fan.

Now she was sleeping with him.

Her smile faded.

Things had moved so fast between them, she nearly had whiplash. Still, she believed letting Jonah back into her life and telling Eva Grace the truth had been the right thing to do.

The problem was, while she felt as if she could now move on and have a relationship with Jonah, a tiny part of her feared he would end up disappointing her again.

That worry had her holding back a piece of her heart. Was it a way of still punishing him? If so, that didn’t seem fair to him. Or her.

Abby reminded herself that she’d come a long way toward accepting the events of the past in a short amount of time. It might take time to fully let down her guard. But it would happen.

Somehow, some way, she believed Jonah would show himself to be a man fully worthy of her trust. When that happened, the past would truly be in the past.