âSheâs your daughter.â
His mouth snapped shut, his face paled. âWhy would you concoct such an outrageous story?â
âItâs not a storyâitâs the truth.â Kelly should have known telling him would be a mistake. She stood up. âI thought youâand Avaâhad a right to know. But Iâd rather she didnât know the identity of her father than know he doesnât want her.â
Jackson pushed away from his desk as she reached for the handle of the door. âWait.â He slapped his hand against the frame. âYou canât drop a bombshell like that and just walk out.â
He stood so close that he breathed in her hauntingly familiar scent. Memories of that long-ago weekend teased his mind, and something stirred low in his belly. Even now, when she was making accusations that could turn his life upside down, he couldnât ignore the heat thrumming in his veins.
âWeâre done here,â she said.
He moved closer. âWeâre not even close to being done.â
Kelly Cooper glanced at her watch as she slipped her feet into a pair of navy blue pumps and bit back an exasperated sigh. Every day, it was the same. No matter what time she woke her daughter, it seemed they were always running behind schedule.
âCome on, Ava. Weâre going to be late.â
The twelve-year-old raced down the hall, her backpack in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.
âSorry, Mom. I forgot that I need you to sign something.â
Kelly dug into her bag for a pen. Her daughter was famous for holding on to trip permission and lunch order forms until the morning that they were due, usually when they were already late getting out the door.
Ava flattened the page out on the table by the door so that Kelly could scrawl her signature on the dotted line. But something about the way her daughterâs hand was splayed over the top of the page triggered Kellyâs maternal radar. She tugged the page out of Avaâs grasp, caught the headline at the topâCONSENT FOR BODY PIERCING OF A MINOR.
When she was sure that she could speak calmly, she turned to her daughter and said, âNice try, Ava.â
âCome on, Mom. Please.â
âNo.â She tore the paper in half, then in quarters, and opened the door. âLetâs go.â
Avaâs deep green eyes, the mirror image of her fatherâs, filled with tears. âItâs just my belly button.â
âItâs not just anything,â Kelly argued. âWhich I told you last week when you came home raving about Rachelâs sisterâs hips being pierced. I am not letting you permanently disfigure any part of your body with holes or ink.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause youâre twelve years old.â She locked the door and headed down the hall to the elevator.
âIâm almost thirteen,â Ava said.
Actually, sheâd only celebrated her twelfth birthday a few months earlier, but that wasnât the issue. âStill nowhere close to eighteen,â she pointed out. âIf you want a belly button ring when youâre eighteen, I wonât be able to say no. But until then, that is the answer.â
âYouâre so mean.â
âYouâve mentioned that once or twice before,â she acknowledged as they exited on the ground floor.
âMiranda and Corinne have belly button rings, and Rachelâs getting hers pierced on her birthday.â Ava climbed into the passenger side and latched her belt. âBecause her motherâs cool, and because she believes itâs a way for Rachel to express her individuality.â
âHow can it be an expression of her individuality if sheâs having it done to be like everyone else?â Kelly countered.
Ava huffed out a breath. âWhy do you always have to treat me like a baby?â
âBecause you are my baby,â she reminded her.
Her daughter was silent for a long minute, but Kelly knew better than to think that sheâd given up. It wasnât in Avaâs nature to back down on anything. As she proved when she said, âI bet if I had a dad, heâd let me get my belly button pierced.â