Second Chances: A Romance Writers of America Collection (Stark World 2.50)

She trotted to the crosswalk and glared at him to hurry up already.

Wince smiled beside him. "Coffee?"

"The Arabian variation. Nutcracker." Jeez. Not what he wanted to talk about at all. "The Coffee bit in Act Two, but she's too young." Jerome exhaled roughly. "Sorry, I hear about this stuff so much, I forget most people have no idea--"

"Doesn't matter. I get it. Good for her." Wince exhaled with a smile. "You're a great dad, better than yours was."

"Y'think?" His parents had been corporate lawyers: great with conflict, encouragement not so much.

Nod. "She's lucky."

"Well, she's not old enough to dance Coffee. Frankly, the music is too sexy. But mad beautiful. We spend a lot of time arguing about it." Jerome smiled. "Welcome to every dinner at my house."

Wink. "If you insist."

Somehow they'd stopped talking about ballet.

A hot hollow opened behind Jerome's heart. "Uh. Good." Smile.

"You look happy, Jug. I'm really glad."

He glanced at his daughter cocking her confused frown at him. "She knows what she wants."

Wince dropped his gaze to his dozing son. "Lucky. A lot of people never know."

"That's not--" Jerome swallowed and tried again. "Wince."

Wince blinked. A shivery silence dragged between them like swords scraping blade to blade.

Jerome said, "I gotta go."

"I'll see you, okay? At the coffee-pig-mice thing. Ballet!" Wince grinned and winked at him, gorgeous and open as the sky.

They both chuckled, somehow calm standing there facing each other in the cold all these years later. His pulse thumped in his ears. If Jerome didn't feel happy, he at least didn't feel lost. Regret never killed anyone.

Olivia would have loved him. Too.

An awkward moment where they couldn't hug or shake or anything in farewell, so Jerome saluted and pointed at Flip. "Take care of him."

"What else am I good for?" Wince crossed the street to hail a cab.

Me. But we're bad for each other.

Jerome caught up with his daughter distractedly. What just happened? He forgot to tug on his gloves 'til she did.

"I was right. He's cool." Keisha looked at him directly when he didn't reply. "Wince."

"I never said he wasn't." But I implied it. She didn't really understand because Wince's charm blinded people.

They doubled back up Columbus toward rehearsals.

She swiveled toward him and nodded in the cold. "Dad, I totally ship it."

He made an old man face. "What does that mean?" She couldn't possibly understand.

"Wince. It makes no sense, so it makes perfect sense. That you're friends." She tucked the tail tip in her pocket and took his arm.

"I haven't seen him in seventeen years, Keisha." A panicky edge to his voice made him sound like he was lying. "Give or take."