“Vaughan knows a dad has to get his lessons in whenever he can. You’ll know this one day, too.”

“I have a long way to go to be half as good at this as you are,” Vaughan told his father.

“I’ve been doing it longer. Parenting is a lot like a marriage. You have to consistently work at it or things turn to shit. Hopefully you’ll all have children who are easier on your hearts than mine. Though I’ll laugh my ass off when one of you has to go to the school to deal with some stupid bullshit one of your kids pulls.”

He took Vaughan by the upper arms for a moment. “You can do this.” And that moment passed.

But it was what he needed. Enough to spur him on. To remind him of what was important.

He could do this. He would do this.

CHAPTER TWELVE

KELLY LOVED CLOTHES. That one part of being a model she’d loved. She’d never have been exposed to the depth and breadth of design, fabric and style otherwise. As she grew more successful in the modeling world clothes began to come with the gigs.

When she left modeling full-time she hadn’t relinquished her love of clothes. She’d kept a huge closetful in her condo in Manhattan and the one she currently stood in was similarly full.

Her closet was a place she often escaped to after a frustrating day. Organizing, shifting things around that she hadn’t worn in a while. She liked to do a cull each season and those things were either donated or traded with her friends.

Some of her pieces were like art. Kelly didn’t attend as many parties as she once did, though she still did modeling campaigns for two design houses, but she built her time in New York around the girls’ school schedule and kept a place there.

The money was good. It kept her working and relevant in that world, which was helpful to her boutiques, and she couldn’t deny she was proud of what she’d built.

It was fitting that she’d been able to take her love of clothes and fashion and make it into a way to continue to support herself and her girls. More than that, she’d begun to construct what Stacey liked to call Kelly Hurley, Inc.

She didn’t much want to act or sing or do any of those things. But there were things she was good at. Things she was proud to add to her résumé. It was more than throwing money at a storefront. She was involved with the direction of her business. She and her partner liked to innovate.

Which was why she’d just pulled on one of her favorite outfits and was heading to Hood River to have lunch and a chat with Tuesday Eastwood about her jewelry.

There was a tap on the door just as she’d slid a blue Lucite bangle bracelet into place.

Vaughan stood there with a smile. “Wow, I’m impressed. This is huge.”

She looked around the room, proud. “Yeah. This was supposed to be another bedroom with an en suite bath but I made it into my closet instead.” And a dressing room—a place she put on her makeup and did her hair, as well.

“You’re off to have lunch with Tuesday now?” He’d retrieved Tuesday’s number from Ezra just a few hours before so he knew where she was headed.

“Yes. I’ll be back in time for the bus, though.”

“No big deal if you aren’t. I’m here. I’m working in the office, setting it all up in there, but I have my phone and the house phone up there so I’ll be available if there’s a problem. Tell her I said hello.”

“You really want me to like her, don’t you?”

He brushed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “Well, sure. She’s my brother’s girlfriend so it would be nice if you were friends with her. And she’s close with Natalie, and that’s my other brother’s girlfriend so that’s a good thing, too. I want you to like my family.”

“I like the way your family treats my children.” She smiled brightly, pleased she’d found something positive to say that was actually believable. “That’s a lot to me. As for the rest, it’s a conversation we need to have, but not right now.” She stepped back, breaking contact or they’d end up in bed and she’d never leave the house at that rate.

Avoiding any more discussion of his family, she grabbed her bag, slid into her shoes and headed out.

“You tell me to share but then when I do you’re too busy for it?” he called out from the doorway to her bedroom.

The words to agree with him rose to her lips and then she stopped, frowning. Her normal instinct was to defer, even when her feelings were being ignored. If he meant to be around she couldn’t let their daughters see her be anything but strong, them anything less than united and always respectful of one another.

It seemed that now she was confident—and wary—enough to demand respect. And not all anger was destructive and ugly.

Which was good because he could make her angry in ways no one else on earth did. But instead of running from it, deferring to him to keep the peace or shying from conflict, she let it come.

They promised one another honesty so she gave it to him.

“Oh, I see. So when you decide you’re ready to talk about something you’ve been avoiding for eight years I’m supposed to drop everything. Do I have that right?”

“We can’t work things out if when I finally talk about them you run off.” Vaughan threw his hands up.

“It’s really a good thing you’re going to continue to be hot when you get old.”

His eyebrows rose. “That sounds like an insult.”

“Smart. Also, self-centered. I’m meeting with a potential new business associate and you really expect me to toss that? Eight years you said nothing. Two weeks of being back in my life doesn’t give you the right to stand there and be hurt or mad or anything but accepting of my saying, yes we need to talk but not right this moment.”