Her Family Wish

But Jude wasn’t looking at Abby.

“How was class?” He smiled at Hannah, casually—too casually.

She narrowed her eyes. Had he been listening outside the door? She crossed her arms over her chest, immediately defensive although he had every right to hear conversations about his daughter—in his school. Would he be mad she’d warned Abby about the photo? Or had he expected it?

“Class was great.” She had to be honest, even though saying something positive at the moment felt a little like losing whatever this weird battle was she’d found herself fighting.

Jude shoved his hands in his pants pockets and nodded slowly. “Always good to…hear.” A slight smirk lit his eyes as Hannah’s gaze jerked to meet his. Her neck flushed with heat. He’d listened, all right.

Enough of the games. “I better get going. I have a photo shoot to prepare for tomorrow.” Hannah shouldered her bag and offered Abby, who’d been silent during the entire exchange, an encouraging smile. “See you later this week.”

“Who’s your client?” Jude shifted his weight, resting against the side of Abby’s desk as if he had no cares in the world, no punishments to dole out, no points to prove.

No apologies to make.

Though on second thought, Hannah owed him one for her involvement in the first place. Best to call it even and move on.

But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his arresting blue gaze.

“It’s an engagement shoot.” She had to look away during the word engagement. Even now, the thought of photographing the happy, smiling couple tomorrow tied her stomach in knots. Engagement shoots were always tough. Young people blissfully naive of the future, unaware of the way life could change in a single second, in the time it took for a drunk driver to run a red light. They believed everything would always be the way they’d planned—and why shouldn’t they? They had no reason to think otherwise.

No daily scars to remind them how deeply dreams were crushed.

“Are you free afterward?”

Jude’s voice ripped Hannah away from the past, leaving her gaping in the present. She opened her mouth, but words escaped her. Why in the world did Jude care what she did tomorrow? It wasn’t like he wanted to schedule his own photo shoot. And he wasn’t asking her out…surely not.

Surprise flickered across Jude’s expression, as if he startled even himself by the sudden question. But he squared his shoulders and repeated the shocking words. “Are you free afterward? I’d like to buy you a cup of coffee.”

Hannah’s breath hitched. Coffee? With Jude? Alone? She could think of about a dozen reasons to say no.

And maybe only one reason to say yes.

Abby looked between Hannah and her dad, confusion pinching her eyebrows. “What about me?”

“You’re going to be grounded.” Jude frowned, as if finally remembering why he even came to hunt Abby down in the first place. “So you’ll be doing homework while we’re out.” He lifted his gaze back to Hannah. “That is, if Ms. Hart agrees to go.”

“I—I…” Hannah’s voice trailed off, and she clutched at the necklace around her throat, desperate to hide the blush she couldn’t control that she knew by now had to be lighting her scar like a beacon. She tilted her head so her hair covered her left cheek, and nibbled on her lower lip. “I can’t.”

Abby released the breath she’d obviously been holding, and her shoulders slumped. Hannah knew the feeling. It almost hurt to say no. But what good could come from a coffee—dare she say date?—with Jude? For a moment, she’d wanted to entertain the idea that his quick temper and snappiness somehow stemmed from a connection with her, from a place he fought deep inside just as she did. That maybe he really did want to take her out, get to know her, see the real her beneath the pretension—and the scars.

But that was asking a lot of a man she’d known for a week, who at the moment had more reasons to fire her than take her on a date.

Jude must have seen Abby’s disappointment, too. “Abby, please go wait in the car.”

“But, Dad—”

“You’re not really in a position to argue here, honey.” Jude’s voice, gentle but firm, allowed no argument.

With a humble nod, Abby took the keys Jude handed her and scurried out of the room.

“You trust her with your keys?” Hannah couldn’t help her tone, couldn’t hold back the rest of the sentence that flitted between them, unspoken yet incredibly clear. But not with designer jeans and a little bit of makeup?

The hum of the fluorescent light above filled the silence, until Jude stepped a few feet closer, leaning against the student’s desk beside hers. “Abby’s a good kid.”

Hannah bit back the I know that threatened to pour out, and restrained herself to a nod as she crossed her arms, determined to listen without judgment.

Or at least without as much judgment. Handsome or not, the man remained a puzzle—especially when it came to all things Abby. How could someone who cared so much be so hard-nosed?

“I know there are rumors.” A muscle clenched in Jude’s jaw, and he looked down briefly, flicking a piece of lint off the leg of his slacks. “I don’t know if you believe them.”

The statement turned into a question. Hannah shrugged, her heart climbing in her throat. “I don’t see why it matters what I think.” Flashes of their previous conversation in his office danced before her, and she straightened her shoulders, her resolve about saying no strengthened. “You actually made it quite clear that it doesn’t.”

“And I owe you an apology—hence the coffee.” Jude offered a slight smile, one that set Hannah’s insides trembling more than she wanted to admit. “Besides, I overheard a little bit of what you told Abby. She really responds to you.” Jude looked over his shoulder, as if he could somehow see Abby through the layers of brick and steel. “I’d hoped maybe you’d give me some pointers.”

Jude’s lips thinned, as if the very act of saying the words out loud pained him, but it had to be hard to ask for help—a single dad, attempting to prove to the world he could handle a preteen by himself. It couldn’t be easy, and no matter how many times he lost his temper with her, Hannah admired him. Abby was obviously his responsibility—he hadn’t pawned her off as she’d see dads do before. He cared—maybe too much about the wrong things, but again, that was her opinion. What mattered the most was Abby. If he wanted help with her, how could she say no? While Hannah couldn’t fathom seeing Jude for any personal reasons, she could easily think of a sweet, blonde, blue-eyed reason to do just that.

“Okay.” She smiled back, hoping her smile didn’t shake as much as her hands did. “Coffee it is. I’ll be free around seven.”

They made plans to meet at a local shop not far from the school, and Jude rushed off to meet Abby at the car. Hannah packed up her camera bag, unsure what to do with the variety of emotions skittering inside. It wasn’t a date—for either of them. More like it was a desperate dad needing advice on how to girl-talk with his kid. Hopefully Hannah could help smooth things over for the mismatched father/daughter duo.

Without letting her heart get involved.

* * *

It was hard to concentrate on Monday night football when Jude spent more time replaying and analyzing his pathetic conversation with Hannah than the sports broadcasters did with the plays. Jude aimed the remote at the TV and clicked mute, successfully eliminating the monotone voices of the announcers but doing little to ease the thoughts that ricocheted through his head.

Something happened between the time he strolled inside the classroom, forcing a casual air as if he hadn’t been listening at the door, determined to break up the duo forming inside—and the time he opened his mouth and heard the request for a coffee date fly from his lips. Something had happened, all right. Something like the aroma of Hannah’s vanilla perfume teasing all logic from his senses. Something like the respect Abby was showing him for the first time in weeks.

Something like the idea of the three of them together.

He picked up his nearly empty cola and stared absently at the can. Crazy. He barely even knew Hannah, and here he was nudging into her life, picturing visions he had no right to imagine. But he did owe her an apology—his temper lately seemed more worthy of a pro wrestler than it did an assistant principal. He wasn’t leaving a very good impression of his school, and regardless of the stress he was under, regardless of the way she’d interfered with his daughter, Hannah didn’t deserve him behaving like he were in the ring.

God, when did I get like this? The prayer slipped through the cracks of the wall Jude erected some time ago, and he ran a hand over his rough jaw, in need of a shave. Miranda used to accuse him of being quick-tempered, but not like this. Never like this. He could see himself morphing into this person he didn’t want to be. Even now, remembering Abby’s lies and deceit sent his blood boiling a few degrees more than it should.

No wonder Miranda had chosen drugs and the high life over him.

Jude set his drink down and watched the commercial playing on the big screen with bleary eyes, wishing the headache roaring in the back of his head would stop—and take all the back and forth, wishy-washy contradictions over Hannah with it. No, he couldn’t bring Hannah any further into his messed-up world. Coffee would be an apology. Nothing more. Jude didn’t need to date an employee, even if she was a temp and not technically employed by the school. Nothing good could come from that. She’d be hanging around for a few weeks helping Sophia, and after all his blunders, he didn’t need to make that time more awkward than it already would be. Then she’d be gone, and his problem would be over.

Besides, Hannah could never truly own the title of Ms. Right, even if Jude grew even more selfish than he already was and actually wanted her to claim it. She was a photographer—everything in her thrived on making things beautiful through that thick camera lens.

He refused to fight that kind of ugly again. He saw where it led, what it destroyed. Better to steer clear than to get sucked in, especially where Abby was concerned.

Jude clicked the remote control and abrupt sound from the next commercial flooded his living room. He inched the volume down, mindful of Abby trying to sleep across the hall, and closed his eyes, wishing he remembered how to pray. Wishing he could erase the last decade’s worth of mistakes and choices.

* * *

“I have to admit, I’ve never heard of an engagement shoot taking place inside a skating rink.” Sophia set Hannah’s bag of props on the bench against the carpeted wall the next afternoon and sank down beside it.