Page 34 of Dancing in the Rain

Amusement at Drew’s discomfort had her almost laughing out loud. It was so damn cute.

“You know what, Drew?”

“Uh, what?”

She leaned forward. “You’re going to be okay.”

He pressed his lips together then closed his eyes briefly, his shoulders tense. “Sure.”

Chapter 8

Drew arrived at Sara’s home on Saturday nervous as a rookie goalie on a Gretzky breakaway. He wiped his palms on his khaki pants as he waited on the veranda for someone to answer the door. The neighborhood was quiet, a man watering flowers across the street, a dog barking in the distance.

He was about to meet his daughter.

It was fucking insane.

Peyton opened the door. “Hi, Drew.”

“Hey.”

She invited him in and he entered the house, cool, quiet, the air scented with something that smelled like raspberry lemonade. His gaze fell on the girl standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning on the newel post.

She was beautiful. Long brown hair parted in the middle fell in waves past her shoulders. She gazed at him with a solemn expression, her dark eyes wide and clear. She was probably about five feet tall, slender, wearing jeans and a red T-shirt with the graphic #LikeAGirl on the front of it.

He’d seen her picture. He knew what she looked like. But this real-live girl standing in front of him with perfect creamy skin, shiny hair, and wise eyes that studied him as much as he studied her was heartbreakingly gorgeous. His heart banged against his sternum and his palms went even soggier.

“This is Chloe,” Peyton said unnecessarily, seeming freakishly composed. “Chloe, this is Drew Sellers.”

Chloe moved forward and Drew froze. Was he supposed to hug her?

But she extended a hand in a polite gesture and he took it. It felt so small in his. “Hi, Chloe.”

“Hi.”

Now she was closer he could see that her eyes weren’t brown; they were hazel…like his, brown with flecks of green and gold.

“Are you really my dad?” she asked, her forehead creasing.

Christ. He shoved a hand into his hair. “Yeah. Weird, huh?”

Her lips quirked. “It is kind of weird. I Googled you.”

Well, then. “Did you find anything you want to ask me about?”

“Well…my mom told me some stuff about you. So I already know you’re divorced. And you don’t have any other kids. But what about that time you got suspended because you hurt some guy?”

Drew narrowed his eyes and tipped his head. “You mean when I cross-checked Markham three years ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Your Google skills are impressive, Chloe,” Peyton commented. “Drew, come in. Can I get you coffee?”

“Sure.” A beer would’ve been better but he was pretty sure Peyton wasn’t going to be offering that. They moved into the living room where Sara was in the reclining chair again.

“Hi!” She greeted him with a tired smile. “You’re here. Come sit.”

He sat on the couch and Chloe took a chair across from him, tucking one leg under her, still studying him.

---