An Unexpected Groom. Ruth Logan Herne
working side by side on a wedding that couldn’t have been more poorly timed. He followed her through the door, trying not to notice how gracefully she moved. The fitted sundress made that an impossible task and her long blond hair shifted with each step forward.
He shifted his gaze to the floor. Spiky bright yellow heels thwarted that strategy.
Just admit it. She’s gorgeous. She hates you. You’ve got no choice but to work together. You’re doomed.
Rocky paused. Barked. Then barked again.
“Kimberly, hold up.” Drew put his hand over the ever-present weapon at his hip.
She stopped and turned. “Because?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure. Stay here.” He ignored the impatient look she shot to the receptionist as he studied the layout.
Rocky barked again, but he didn’t aim forward, toward the entrance facing the town square. He turned right, then left as if zeroing in, then moved toward the back of the offices. “What’s down that hall?”
“Restrooms and the back door to the parking lot.”
“Is it unlocked?”
Kimberly nodded. “Of course.”
He frowned, but they’d talk about security changes later. Right now—
He gave Rocky a hand sign.
The broad-shouldered shepherd rushed down the hall, paused, then turned in a half circle. He whined softly, sat, then whined again, like he did when—
Drew stopped that train of thought instantly, because his beautiful eleven-year-old daughter was nearly six hours away at an exclusive Connecticut girls’ camp, a gift from her maternal grandparents. She couldn’t possibly be...
He turned the corner into the recessed alcove.
Amy Sue Slade looked up at him from a seat on the floor, and she had the nerve to smile. “Um... Hi.”
“Hi?” He stared at his daughter, then the door, then her again. “Where did you come from, how did you get here and do you have any last wishes to make before I initiate your death sentence?”
She blanched and stood, but she didn’t look nearly as worried as she should have when her life was on the line. “I told you I hated it there.”
“Telling me you’re unhappy and running away from camp are distinctively different things.”
“It was literally like four turns to get from there to here, a straight shot across Interstate 90,” she protested. “Connecticut and New York share a lot of latitude lines. Not even the least bit dangerous.”
Kimberly came up alongside him, which meant this might not be the best moment for a family brawl. But eleven-year-olds should do what they were told. Always. “You took a train—”
“A bus, actually,” she corrected him. “The nearest trains don’t stop until Rochester and the cab ride back here would have wiped out my debit card.”
“You got on a bus with who knows what kind of people and rode it here?”
“Yes.”
“You are grounded forever.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it, Amy Sue. Forever.”
“I know, Dad. You always mean everything you say.” She let her backpack slide to the floor and held out her arms. “Did you miss me as much as I missed you?”
“More.” He opened his arms. She fell into them, and the feel of holding his precious daughter tipped some of his world back on course. Rick’s eighteen-month campaign had taken too big a toll on their time together. Once this election was done, so was he. He’d take his delightful daughter and find a quiet, cozy place to settle down and be the family they’d never had a chance to be. “Whose idea was it to send you to camp in the first place? What were we thinking, splitting up Team Slade?”
“It was Grandma’s idea because you don’t have time to watch me right now.”
“And that hasn’t changed one bit.” He sighed, held her close, felt her tears and couldn’t suppress the feeling that things just got a little more right in his world.
The back door swung open. Daryl Jackson, his security point man, strode in and smiled. “She found you.”
“So it seems.”
“I saw her edging around back.”
“You could have radioed.”
Daryl’s grin flashed in his bronzed face. “More fun this way. So, Miss Amy, before he kills you dead, sweet thing, do you have a hug for me because now I’m going to have to listen to him complain about what to do with you while we’re working. A hug is downright necessary in that case.”
“Uncle Daryl!” She grinned and launched herself into Daryl’s arms, then turned toward Kimberly.
Drew turned also. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see on Kimberly’s face, but compassion hadn’t made the short list. “Kimberly.”
She looked up and arched a brow that hinted amusement.
“Yes?”
He hauled in a breath and drew Amy forward. “My daughter, Amy Slade.”
Kimberly squatted, and in that formfitting dress and three-inch heels, he was pretty sure squatting was no easy task. And then she smiled right at Amy, and that smile took him a long ways back. Emily might have been the beauty queen of the family, but in Drew’s eyes, Kimberly had always been the beauty. And still was.
“You look just like your dad did when he was your age.”
“For real?” Amy made a cute face and looked up. “No one’s ever told me that before, but then I’ve never met anyone who knew Dad when he was young.”
Kimberly graciously ignored the whys and wherefores of his hometown absence. “Now you have, and I assure you, you’re a chip off the old block, and I’d venture to say that your little adventure today is the kind of thing your dad would have done.”
Amy grasped his hand. “I don’t like being away from Dad for even a little while. Three weeks was way too long, and then I was going to be shipped off to boarding school for the rest of the campaign. If I can’t handle three weeks apart, I can’t even think about months. That would be like the most awful, ever. And I’m not exactly like the other girls at the camp.”
“Rich? Cultured? Well educated?” Drew listed the attributes in a wry voice.
She slanted her father a look that said he was being too generous. “I was going straight to unathletic, boring and pretentious, but we can add rich to the list. Now that doesn’t matter.” She hugged her father’s arm, clearly delighted. “As long as I’m with Dad, everything’s okay.”
“Except it’s not,” Drew reminded her. “I’m working. Daryl’s working. Your grandparents are touring Australia. We have to focus, Amy, and there’s something about a daredevil kid hanging around that splits my attention. The perils of being a single dad,” he added, for Kimberly’s benefit.
“She can ride with us today, can’t she?” Kimberly turned slightly. “And by the way, Daryl?” She reached across Amy to shake Daryl’s hand. “I’m Kimberly.”
“A pleasure, ma’am.”
“You won’t mind?” Drew asked. Shelby’s wedding was a seriously priced six-figure deal, and having a kid ride along wasn’t professional.
“Do you like to talk, Amy?” Kimberly looked down again.
The girl grinned. “Far too much, my dad says.”
“Perfect.” Kimberly moved toward the reception area. “An instant cure