âI enjoyed myself tonight.â
Lucy smiled at Jonâs words. As she climbed the porch steps, his hand came to rest on the small of her back, as if she needed guidance. She was dismayed by how very good that large hand felt touching her.
âI did, too.â So much it scared her. They hadnât talked about anything that special, they hadnât gone dancing, he hadnât kissed her yet, but she liked looking at him and listening to him. That was dangerous. She couldnât imagine that an ambitious man willing to run for public office to get what he wanted would find she suited his public image.
His knuckles stroked her cheek. She looked up at the shadows and planes of his face, at his crystalline eyes, narrowed now, and finally at the mouth sheâd thought to be hard even when he smiled politely.
She wanted, quite desperately, for him to kiss her.
Dear Reader,
I loved the idea for Finding Her Dad the minute I had it. Who doesnât enjoy the whole secret baby theme? Although in this case, the baby is a kidâ¦well, a teenager. And I really like teenagers at that age when theyâre a wonderful mix of vulnerable and surly, feeling a huge need to pull away even as they need just as desperately to feel confident someone is holding tight on to them.
This is a secret baby who isnât found by chance, or because Dad goes looking for Mom, or Mom for Dad. No, sixteen-year-old Sierra is the one who finds her dadâbecause with her mom dead, the only other person she has in the world is her foster mother, Lucy, who has good reason for being suspicious of men who arenât around to raise their own children.
And yes, Sierra has a teensy bit in common with my own two girls, now safely past those teenage years (whew!), but still needing (as all of us do) to know that their parents are always there when needed.
Happy reading,
Janice Kay Johnson
P.S. I enjoy hearing from readers! Please contact me c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, ON, M3B 3K9, Canada.
The author of more than sixty books for children and adults, Janice Kay Johnson writes Harlequin Superromance novels about love and familyâabout the way generations connect and the power our earliest experiences have on us throughout life. Her 2007 novel Snowbound won a RITA® Award from Romance Writers of America for Best Contemporary Series Romance. A former librarian, Janice raised two daughters in a small rural town north of Seattle, Washington. She loves to read and is an active volunteer and board member for Purrfect Pals, a no-kill cat shelter.
For my own,
much loved daughters, Sarah and Katie. May they always find what they seek.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
âSEE, I DIDNâT WANT TO just, like, email him or something. I thought I should really go talk to him. In person. You know?â Earnest and wide-eyed, Sierra twirled one lock of indigo-blue hair around her finger. Elaborately casual, she finished, âIt would be cooler if I had my driverâs license, but since I canât drive myself with only a permitâ¦â
Permit. Driverâs license. Email him. Him who? Lucy Malone realized, as she stared at her foster daughter in bewilderment, that her mind seemed to be scrolling backward through what had been a fairly lengthy recitation. Back to the beginning, which had beenâ¦
âI found my dad.â Perfectly timed, the sixteen-year-old said it again, hugged herself and did a small end-zone dance. âIs that amazing or what?â
Lucy pressed her fingertips to her suddenly aching temples. âWait. No. You donât have a father.â
Sierra rolled her eyes as only a teenager could. âOf course I have a father. What do you think? Mom managed an immaculate conception? I mean, sure, it was close, butâ¦â
Oh, Lord, Lucy didnât want to believe Sierra knew anything at all about conception, especially the kind that wasnât immaculate. Which was foolish in the extreme. What else did girlsâand boysâher age think about, if it wasnât sex?
Fathers, apparently.
What Lucy did know was that Sierraâs mother had never married and had decided to have a child on her own. Sheâd gone to a sperm bank; yes, the closest thing to an immaculate conception that a woman could achieve. From what Sierra said, all her mother had ever known about Sierraâs father was what heâd chosen to share about himself for the women shopping for sperm. Catalog copy. And how accurate was that likely to be? No guy selling sperm was likely to admit that his IQ was really eighty-five and his best skill was belching louder than his buddies.
Lucy sank onto the stool behind the cash register. âExplain,â she ordered.
Thank God there were no customers in the store at the moment, a fact that wouldnât normally make her grateful. Sheâd opened her gourmet pet food supply store only a year before, and although business had been steadily climbing, she still sweated through paying the bills every month. But this was definitely not a conversation she wanted overheard.