Free Blackbird Lake by Jill Gregory Page B

enormous lump filled her throat as he peered down at the little girl with the wispy curls draped across her cheeks.
    Emma looked like a real-life, honest-to-goodness cherub. Beautiful. Sweet. Innocent. Deeply asleep now, her tiny fingers clutched the soft peach-colored throw tucked around her shoulders.
    “Who’s
this
amazing little heartbreaker?” Jake asked softly. “Since she doesn’t have a bed of her own in this house, I’m guessing she’s yours.”
    “Ye-es. My daughter. Emma.” Carly tried to ignore the bubble of fear and tension expanding in her chest.
    “Wow, what pretty hair. She looks so much like you. I’m sure you must know how beautiful she is.” His gaze lingered on Emma, and a smile tugged at his lips before he turnedslowly away and fixed those disconcertingly direct eyes on Carly.
    “So. You’re married now. Damn. Just my luck.” Even as the rueful grin split across his face, he automatically glanced down to her left hand and registered with a small jolt of surprise that she wasn’t wearing a wedding band.
    Or, for that matter, an engagement ring.
    “Oops. Or…not,” he added easily, with a wider grin and a shrug of his shoulders. There was neither a question nor judgment in his eyes.
    “
So
not married,” she answered quickly, with a shrug. But a flush crept up her neck and heated her cheeks. “Emma’s father isn’t in the picture.”
    Whoa. What kind of an asshole wouldn’t be in the picture for his very own kid?
Jake felt a rush of pity for the toddler asleep on the sofa—and contempt for the man who had run out on his responsibility. He noticed that Carly’s voice sounded stiff, even a little bit breathless, and he guessed she wasn’t nearly as cool with the father deserting them as she wanted everyone else to think she was.
    “Sorry. Didn’t mean to stick my nose where it didn’t belong,” he began but she brushed right past him and Bronco as if he hadn’t spoken, heading straight to the front door.
    “I’ll tell Denny you stopped by.”
    Man, this woman couldn’t get rid of him fast enough.
    She looked even
more
delicious than he remembered from that night in Houston. She had a fantastic willowy body, long and lean. And that fresh, sexy girl-next-door kind of beauty—a stunning combination of naturalness and sensuality. And her lips…they were probably the most pouty, shapely, inviting-looking lips he’d ever seen. And he’d seen quite a few. Fact was, he still remembered just how sweet they tasted…how sweet
she
tasted….
    What really got him, though, wasn’t the knockout beauty of her heart-shaped face, or her full soft lips, or even the remembered peal of breathless, slightly tipsy laughter as they got to know each other between the sheets in Houston.
    It was her eyes. Those incredible dreamy green eyes, soft and rich as a summer forest. They seemed to have a way of drawing a man in. Deeply in.
    When they weren’t deliberately trying to block him out.
    Which was what they were doing right now.
    Following her to the door, Bronco at his heels, Jake struggled to rein in his attraction to her—the same heady jolt of instant attraction that had pulled him to her across the lobby of that hotel—but she sure didn’t make it easy.
    She was damned sexy in that scoop-necked ivory sweater, with her mass of thick red curls, simple faded jeans, and sneakers. Fact was, she looked like a million bucks. Like some slender supermodel hanging out in Lonesome Way, lying low—on vacation, Jake thought. Tall and graceful—with very distracting curves filling out her sweater and jeans in exactly the right places.
    This
Carly McKinnon was so much more down-to-earth than the stunning, polished businesswoman he’d invited into his hotel room in Houston. Back then she’d been dressed in very high heels, a gold silk blouse, and a black business suit.
    He remembered her kicking off those heels and sauntering toward him with a sexy little smile. He remembered her rising up on