Jarod's Heart (King Brothers Stories #2) (17 page)

JAROD CHECKED HIS
rear view mirror. He could just make out Jessica, whose cheek was smooshed up against her car seat. To his right, Lauren’s head lay sweetly relaxed on the headrest, her eyes closed in sleep. A warm feeling that he hadn’t experienced in years filled his body, making him pensive. He had two beautiful girls in his care, and his natural instinct to keep and protect them was pulsing through his veins.

His girls.

Yes, Jessica and Lauren were his girls, no matter that one of them wouldn’t call him
Daddy,
and the other one had no clue that she was his. He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d decided to keep Lauren, but that didn’t matter. Now he just had to convince her that she belonged to him.

Determination took hold as he glanced quickly from the road to Lauren’s face and back again. He needed to plan out his next conversation with her. She was a stubborn, sassy, wonderful woman. She was the best damn secretary he’d ever had, but the way she’d cared for Jessica proved to him just how much he needed her in his personal life as well.

But did he love her? Did it matter? He’d loved a woman once, and look what had happened. No, the only thing that mattered was how
Jessica
felt about Lauren. From the very beginning, the two of them had been drawn to each other. If Lauren wasn’t around, Jessica asked repeatedly where “Lorn” was, and when she did find her, Jessica clung to the woman as if her life depended on it. And maybe it did.

It had been obvious that the feelings were mutual because Lauren never turned Jessica away either, always giving in to his daughter’s demands.

They were kindred spirits. Lauren’s past was no secret; she had grown up in and out of the system until she’d grown enough to take care of herself. She was capable and strong willed. He’d known her for as long as he could remember; her reputation was impeccable, even though her mother was the town drunk. Lauren had pulled herself up by the bootstraps and made something of herself. She would be a wonderful mother.

He’d married Miranda because he had thought he’d loved her, only to have his heart removed with a spoon. If he were going to get married again (
Am I really thinking of getting married?),
then Jessica would be a major factor in his choice of spouse. The woman he married would have to have certain qualities.

He began a mental checklist and compared that list to Lauren. His future wife had to be
:

1. a good mother to Jessica, who was the most important thing in his life right now.
Check.

2. strong and not clingy.
Check.

3. accepted by their small community and fit in well as the wife of the sheriff.
Check.

4. accepted by his family and his mother had to like her.
Check.

He looked at Lauren again.

5. She had to be beautiful inside and out.
Check.

He concentrated on the road, pressing the accelerator while he mentally prepared himself for battle. He would have to convince Lauren to marry him. The past few weeks without her had been hell. He shuddered remembering the month when she’d not spoken to him, before Jessica had arrived. The more he thought about making her his wife, the more he liked the idea.

And when Jarod made a decision, there was no turning back. He was going to marry Lauren Lockwood, whether she liked it or not.

GLAD TO FINALLY
be home, he pulled into his normal parking spot in the driveway. The rest of the family followed suit. He shut off the engine and sat there looking at his future wife.

He reached over and rubbed the back of his fingers along her cheek. Softly, he said, “Hey, beautiful, we’re home.”

He watched her eyebrows squish together before her lids fluttered open, revealing her confused baby blues.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve dozed off.” She gave him a sheepish smile before turning her head to check on Jessica.

Just like a good mother would
, he thought with satisfaction.

“She’s out,” he said, stating the obvious.

“She had a very busy day.” She reached over the seat to gently undo the car seat straps.

“Careful, Lauren. You might hurt yourself by twisting over the seat like that.”

He stepped out of the truck, hustled himself around to the passenger side, and opened the back door.

Ignoring her look of confusion, he wrangled his comatose daughter out of her car seat and slung her limp body halfway over his shoulder, rubbing her back. Jessica hung there like a rag doll.

Lauren reached over the seat, grabbed the blue blanket and her purse, then followed him inside without question.

They said nothing to each other as they walked through the house, hearing the rest of his family as they made their weary way to their own rooms. It had been an exhausting day for him, but he was wide awake, anticipation fueling him like caffeine for what was to come next in his life.

Lauren followed him into his suite and then his bedroom without protest. Jessica was still sleeping in his bed because her rooms were not complete, and she flat out refused to sleep on his couch. She’d probably slept on more couches than he could count. His little girl deserved a real bed, with real pillows and blankets, anyway.

Before he could get her situated, Lauren moved ahead of him to draw back the covers. He laid Jessica down on her side of the bed, and together they managed to get her undressed as far as they could without waking her, leaving her in her t-shirt and undies, which seemed to be the routine lately.

A warm, homey feeling flooded through him when Lauren brushed Jessica’s dark hair away from her forehead before bending down to kiss her.

“Goodnight, sweet pea,” she whispered.

Jarod followed Lauren’s lead, kissing his daughter goodnight. He caught Lauren’s smile as she left his bedroom. He quickly pulled his door closed, leaving it open a crack in case Jessica woke up and was frightened, then caught up with Lauren before she could leave his suite.

“I’ll walk you to your room,” he whispered.

Lauren stopped in her tracks and turned to give him a quizzical smile. “I’m heading home tonight, Jarod.”

“It’s really late. I’d feel better if you stayed at the estate tonight,” he said, reaching out to her shoulder. At the last second she backed away, his fingers finding only air. He covered the near miss by rubbing his hand over his head.

“I’ll be fine, Jarod. I’ve made the drive so many times that I could find my way home in my sleep. Speaking of which, I’m really tired and need to get going.”

She turned to head down the stairs.

Determined not to let her leave, he implored, “Wait. What are your plans for tomorrow?”

She stopped before she hit the first step.

“I haven’t got any plans,” she shrugged. “At least not in the morning. Why do you ask? You’ve never asked about my plans before, Jarod,” she said accusingly.

Clearing his throat, he stated, “Halloween is next weekend.”

“So?”

“Well,” he was stalling, trying to come up with a good enough excuse for her to stay, “Jessica will want to go trick-or-treating. I’m not sure if she’s ever done it before, and she’ll need a costume.”

Lauren studied him for a second, cocking her hip out. “Do you need help finding her a costume, Jarod?”

He studied her, gauging her mood. Would she help, or would she tell him to figure it out himself?

“Yes, I need help with finding her a costume. Plus, Mom wants us to start getting ready for the haunted castle tomorrow,” he said, raising his eyebrow.

“Camille’s starting set-up tomorrow?” she asked in a state of panic.

“Yep.”

“Why didn’t she say anything to me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she thought you already knew.” He was such a liar, but he was desperate. They were moving the large items first and beginning construction for the fun house. His mother wouldn’t start the smaller things until later in the week, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. Besides, he could feel her caving in.

“I really want you to stay here tonight.”

Her blue eyes locked with his as she asked, “Why?”

“Because I hate the thought of sleeping in this house without you in it,” he said honestly.

His eyes fixated on the rise of her chest as she sucked air into her lungs and was fascinated as her body began to shake, and a slight blush tinted her cheeks. It could go either way: She could slap him or stay. He was praying for the latter.

“All right,” was all she said before she turned around and headed away from his room toward the guest wing. She didn’t look back.

L
auren closed the bedroom door and stared at the space that was irritatingly becoming more of a home to her than her own townhouse. She’d purposely distanced herself from Jarod and his home two weeks ago, with the intention of ridding herself of these misplaced feelings of belonging. Other than committing herself professionally to Camille and the events business, she had tried to stay away as much as possible.

But being in love with Jarod had made staying away difficult, even though he could never return her feelings. Now she’d gone and done something really stupid. She’d fallen head over heels in love with Jessica.

She was on a collision course with heartbreak and didn’t know how to change her flight plan. It had to be her damned biological clock that was clouding her ability for self-preservation.

She opened the second drawer of the highboy dresser that sat in the corner of her pristine room, and the gentle fragrance of roses caressed her senses and filled her with welcoming warmth. Camille had added a scented sachet to her personal items. She ignored the tears pricking her eyes as she picked out her favorite pair of jammies and headed to the en-suite bathroom to shower and prepare for bed.

Unlike the master bath at her townhouse, this one was lavish. Camille had stocked it with all of Lauren’s favorite personal hygiene products. It had taken her a while to figure out that Camille had been subtly gleaning information from her for several weeks.

“My dentist said I need to use a good mouthwash, but I don’t like any he’s recommended. What do you suggest, Lauren?”

Or…

“I just can’t keep my skin from looking like alligator hide. How do you keep your skin so smooth, dear?”

And her personal favorite:
“Just tell me what kind of body wash you use, Lauren. I’m heading to the store and don’t have time for games.”

After her shower, she brushed her teeth with her favorite toothpaste and combed her hair with an exact replica of her own comb that Camille had “picked up somewhere.” Lauren slipped on the camisole top and yoga pants that she used as her jammies and headed for the bedroom.

She slipped between fine linen sheets and relaxed against a pile of feather pillows. She thought of her own bed, which was comfortable but not nearly as luxurious as the one she was currently occupying, and sighed in contentment.