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herhair was short, she’d look just like you did years ago, Marie,” Joe said, and she wished she knew him well enough to know if the rasp in his voice came from emotion or not.
    “I can’t believe Davey wouldn’t tell us he had a baby.”
    “Davey hasn’t told us anything in almost forty years.”
    “I’m thirty-four,” Jessica said, as if that explained everything, and then she immediately felt likean idiot. “I’m sorry. I should have called first.”
    “Did Davey send you because that damn doctor called him?”
    “I came because of the call, yes.” She couldn’t bring herself to admit yet that her father had no idea she was here or why.
    Silence filled the kitchen, and she became aware that the Broussards had a real clock hanging in their kitchen—the kind with a second hand that markedthe awkward seconds with a tick tick tick .
    Jessica was torn. The logical analyst voice in her head—the part of her that had earned her a cushy corner office in her father’s investment business—wanted her to set up a time to speak with them about the doctor’s call and then check into the hotel room she’d reserved. But her inner eleven-year-old wanted to hug her nonfictional grandmother.
    “It’s a long flight,” Rick said, stepping out from behind her so she could see him. “You hungry?”
    His quiet words breaking the silence also seemed to break the tension, and Marie gave her a shaky smile. “Have a seat and tell us all about yourself. Rick, are you going to stay for a while?”
    “I’ll stay for a little bit,” Rick said, and though his voice was even enough, the look he gaveJessica made it clear he wasn’t just a tenant in this house and he wasn’t sure what he thought of her yet. “I want to hear all about Jessica.”

Chapter Two
    Rick wasn’t sure exactly what to make of Jessica Broussard. The only thing he knew for sure about Joe and Marie’s surprise granddaughter was that she smelled pretty damn good for a woman who’d just flown across the entire width of the country.
    She didn’t look too bad, either. Her long, blond hair was in a long and straight ponytail, and if she was wearing makeup,it was subtle. A soft sweater that looked more fashionable than warm reached her thighs, which were encased in black leggings that disappeared into similarly nonfunctional boots. The soft leather might make her legs look amazing, but they weren’t keeping her feet warm. And she was tall enough so it wouldn’t be awkward to kiss her.
    Not that it mattered, since he had no intention of kissingJessica. But, being tall himself, it was something he tended to notice about women.
    But what he didn’t know about her was why she’d flown all the way from San Diego to Boston at the drop of a hat to show up on the doorstep of people she didn’t even know.
    “I’m really not hungry,” Jessica said, pulling out a chair to sit. “But I’d love a glass of water if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
    “It’s no trouble at all.” Marie pulled out the chair next to Jessica’s. “Rick, would you get Jessica a glass of water, please?”
    Smiling, he opened the cabinet and took down one of Marie’s “company” glasses, rather than grabbing one of the plastic tumblers they usually used. After rinsing it out, he filled it with ice and water from the fridge.
    “Thank you,” Jessica said when he setit down in front of her. But she didn’t take a sip immediately. She wrapped her hands around it as if she just needed something to do with them.
    Instead of taking the fourth seat at the table, Rick leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, watching her.
    “What do you do for work, Jessica?” Marie asked, and he felt a pang of sadness at the anxiety in her voice. Shewould try not to show it, but the woman was a wreck on the inside.
    “I work for my father, actually, at Broussard Financial Services. We do financial planning and manage investments and things of that nature. As his vice