Jett (Arizona Vengeance 10)

My eyes feel like they’re bugging out of my head and I look wildly to Emory who smiles and levels a look at Felicity. “I suggest you listen to my advice, not your father’s.”

Felicity rolls her eyes at her mom and turns her attention back to me. “Yeah, but what would you do, Jett?”

I tip my head toward Emory. “I would absolutely listen to your mum.”

Felicity groans because I didn’t answer the question in quite the way she wanted.

But no matter, she takes another bite of donut and talks around it. Her ability to float from one subject to another in seamless transition is admirable and she announces, “There’s a daddy/daughter dance tomorrow night, and my daddy’s taking me.”

It’s said with pride and excitement and my heart hurts a little she’s not had that before. It reaffirms my thinking that no matter Shane’s issues, Emory did right by her daughter in allowing the relationship to begin again.

I ask a few questions, but Felicity does most of the talking, mainly about her dress and how pretty it is. I glance at Emory as she continues with tiny bites of her croissant, but I note the faint lines of tension around her eyes when Felicity talks about her father.

Not that Emory is jealous. That’s not it at all.

It’s that she does and always will continue to bear worry over Shane.

I listen intently to Felicity, making comments where appropriate and where I have some idea of what I’m talking about. But then it’s time to go because I absolutely cannot be late.

I take a last sip of coffee, having only finished half a cup, and stand from the table.

“Thank Jett for the donuts,” Emory instructs her daughter as she too stands. “And when you finish that one, go wash your face and brush your teeth.”

“Okay, Mummy,” Felicity replies, and then lifts her eyes—same as her mum’s—to me. “Thank you for the donuts, Jett. They’re delicious.”

“You’re welcome,” I reply with a tip of my head.

I then nod to Emory’s chair. “Sit back down and finish your breakfast. I’ll let myself out.”

Once again, she leans into me. That hand on my chest feels perfect. Her lips even better, even though a more chaste kiss has never been had by me.

“Can’t wait for tomorrow night,” she whispers before pulling back.

I’m grinning as I head to the door, thinking that more surprise breakfast drop-offs are warranted because it felt fucking great to make Emory and Felicity happy.

Weird. Making them happy—and they… not just Emory—made me happy.

I open the door, step out onto the porch and pull it shut behind me without a backward look. I’m afraid if I catch Emory’s eyes on me, I might go back inside.

I make it all the way down the steps and onto the sidewalk before movement catches my eye.

A man… slightly shorter than me, thin and I’ll admit… handsome.

Without a doubt, although I’ve never seen a picture of him nor has Emory described him, I know it’s her ex-husband.

His eyes are wide as they take me in and then narrow slightly at the implication that I might have stayed the night. While it’s none of his business, I don’t want to cause waves, so I take the offensive.

Walking his way, I hold my hand out in greeting. “Hey… I’m Jett Olsson.”

The man glances down to my hand, to the house, then back to me before he takes it. “Shane Kelly.”

When we release, I throw a thumb over my shoulder toward the door. “I was just stopping by to drop breakfast off to Emory.”

I don’t include Felicity’s name as I don’t want him to think I’m encroaching on his daughter in any way. Their new relationship is too tenuous to have any jealousies. Not that he would be jealous, but I don’t want to give him an opportunity.

While he never identified exactly who he is, I let him know I know. “You’re Felicity’s dad, right? She’s just been talking nonstop about you. That’s one happy little girl you got.”

Good job, Jett. Non-threatening. Complimentary of his parenting. Hoping some points are scored not for future use, but so he doesn’t feel like he has to prove something to me, or more importantly… to Emory.

For a moment, Shane is confused. You can tell he has no clue how to handle me. I can see he’s still rankled that I was coming out of the house, but the tension in his shoulders seems to have relaxed that I’m only stopping by.

But just as he’s clearly surprised to see me here, I have no clue why he’s here either. Emory didn’t mention he was coming and, therefore, I’m confident she didn’t know.

I get nosy on her behalf. “Did she know you were coming by?” I try to sound innocently inquiring, but it’s pretty nosy. “Because she didn’t say anything.”