“You’re always gracious. That’s one of the things I like about you. Want to come over for dinner this week?”

The change in topic caught her off guard. “Dinner?”

“At my place. With Brittany. Just the three of us.”

Nicole didn’t know what to say. Inviting her to his house wasn’t a public date designed to further the lie that they were a real couple. It actually felt like a real date. Did she want that?

Stupid question, she told herself, remembering all the recent fluttering. “I’d love to.”

“How about Wednesday night? I’ll cook.”

“I look forward to it.” Maybe more than she should.

NICOLE ARRIVED at Hawk’s house close to five-thirty. He and Brittany lived in one of the older Seattle neighborhoods with mature trees and houses with great architectural detail. The lawns were green, the porches wide, and kids’ toys lined the sidewalks. Not exactly the sort of place one would expect to find a former NFL player worth millions.

She parked on the street and walked up to the front door. Hawk opened it before she knocked.

“Hi,” he said, drawing her in, then kissing her.

She closed her eyes and got lost in the feel of his mouth on hers. Heat grew, wanting stirred, then she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and reluctantly pulled back.

“Hi, yourself,” she managed, hoping she wasn’t blushing. “This is not anywhere I would have pictured you.”

“What do you mean?”

“A middle-class neighborhood with lots of families. Where are the gates and the fancy cars?”

He laughed. “Not my style. Serena and I bought this place when I got my first signing bonus. After the small house we lived in during college, this place seemed like a mansion. We like it here. It’s home.”

Brittany burst into the entryway. “Hey, Nicole. How are you? Dad said he’s cooking, but it’s just barbecuing, which doesn’t count. He’ll make us put together the salad. Want to see the house?”

If only they could harness Brittany’s energy and use it to power a hospital or something, Nicole thought with a grin. “I’d love to see the house.” She set down her purse on the small table in the entryway. “I like craftsman-style homes. All the details and built-ins.”

Brittany wrinkled her nose. “It’s old, you mean. When I’m on my own, I want a high-rise condo with a view.”

“How do you plan to pay for your fancy condo?” Hawk asked.

Brittany beamed at him. “You’ll buy it for me, Daddy, because you love me.”

He grunted a response, but Nicole saw the humor in his eyes. Hawk wasn’t just pretty—he had a great relationship with his daughter. She liked that about him.

“Here’s the living room,” Brittany said, leading the way. “All the moldings are original. Even the dental molding, which is unusual for the time period. We think the builder brought it from another house. Maybe one he’d owned before.”

Nicole looked around at the crowded room. The dental molding was the least of it, she thought, taking in the oversize floral-print sofas and the knickknacks dotting every surface. While she usually loved the casual hominess of country-style decorating, this was country on steroids.

There were plenty of country prints on the throw pillows and curtains, braided rugs on the hardwood floor. A porcelain goose family posed by the fireplace and silk flower arrangements filled every corner. There were colored glass dishes and little bunnies on tables, along with photographs. Lots and lots of photographs.

Nicole walked toward a display on the wall. The grouping showed a younger Hawk with a pretty young woman. Serena, Nicole guessed. There were pictures of them laughing, wedding portraits, a few from an NFL ceremony. More photos showed happy parents with a pretty toddler.

The photos on the mantel showed Brittany from birth to age ten or so.

The room felt oppressively crowded—like a museum on crack. It reminded her of her grandma’s house. Too hot, with too much stuff. She wouldn’t have been more surprised to find faux fur and leather handcuffs.

The dining room was more of the same. The country theme continued with floral-print wallpaper and built-in cabinets filled with old-fashioned dishes. There were several cross-stitched sayings framed and hung on the walls.

Nicole felt awkward and out of place. This wasn’t a house—this was a shrine to a lifestyle lost. She would bet that nothing had changed since the day Serena died.

She turned to Hawk and Brittany and forced a smile. “It’s all lovely. Did Serena make these herself?” she asked, pointing to the stitched sayings.

Brittany nodded. “She was teaching me how to cross-stitch when she died.”

“Handmade projects give a house a real homey feeling,” she murmured, not sure what else to say. Hadn’t Hawk ever wanted to move on? Keeping Serena’s memory alive was one thing, but this?

“Serena was into flowers and lots of bright colors,” Hawk said. “I thought about changing a few things, but didn’t see the point. This is the home she left for us.”

And why would he want to change that? Nicole thought, stunned by what she was seeing. Until this second, she’d never thought of Hawk as a widower. She’d known his wife had died, but hadn’t considered he was still in mourning. Or at least living his life the way Serena would have wanted it. He always seemed too powerful and take-charge. This was totally unexpected.

The house was a shrine to Serena and screamed to any guest that she shouldn’t bother getting comfortable. The crowded photographs on the wall proved there wasn’t room for anyone else.

The tour of the downstairs continued. The house was large with a big family room, an equally massive eat-in kitchen, a library and a study Hawk used as a home office. Even there Serena’s touch was visible. Silk flowers nestled up against football trophies.

Nicole felt as if the walls were closing in on her. When Hawk suggested they step outside, she was grateful to be able to breathe again.

But her relief was short-lived. While Hawk fired up the barbecue and then opened a bottle of wine, Brittany led the way to Serena’s special garden.

“She loved flowers,” the teenager said. “She planted them every year. My dad and I plant the same ones. We want her garden to look exactly as it did when she was alive. There’s herbs, too. Every time we use them we’re reminded of her.”

Nicole murmured that it was all so lovely, but on the inside, her head was spinning. What was Hawk trying to prove? That no one would be welcome in his life who wasn’t Serena? Did he even know what he was doing? Telling anyone who visited that she would never measure up to the memory of his late wife? Had he brought her here to warn her away?

CHAPTER TWELVE

DINNER TURNED OUT to be more pleasant than Nicole had thought. Talk turned to something other than Serena, although she ate her steak with the constant need to look over her shoulder to see if someone was watching. She did her best to shake the feeling of not being welcome, telling herself that Hawk wouldn’t have invited her if he hadn’t wanted to spend the evening with her.

After they’d carried their plates into the kitchen, Brittany led the way into the family room.

“I want to show you something,” she said, sitting on the sofa.

Nicole reluctantly settled next to her, wondering if home movies would be next.

She was close, she realized, as Brittany pulled several photo albums off built-in shelves and set them on the big coffee table in front of the couch.

“Aren’t these great?” the teen asked, flipping open the first one and pointing to a high school dance picture showing a very young Hawk and a pretty brunette. “They were so in love. They’re only sixteen here. Look at their smiles.” She sighed.

Nicole murmured that the pictures were lovely and wondered if the problem was her. Was she overreacting to the situation? Maybe she was just sensitive because of Drew.

No, she told herself. Remembering was one thing, but living in a shrine was totally strange.

Brittany flipped pages, pointing out ski trips and her dad after his team won the state football championship. “He was MVP,” she said proudly.

“Impressive,” Nicole said.

There were prom pictures, then a series showing an increasingly pregnant Serena.

“They couldn’t get married when they first found out she was having me. She was only seventeen and her parents wouldn’t sign anything saying it was okay. So they waited until her birthday.” Brittany sighed. “My dad said he would stand by her no matter what.”

A romantic version of what had to be a difficult time. “It had to be hard for her to fight with her family,” Nicole said.

“I know. It’s kinda sad. They never forgave her for marrying my dad. Even though they were totally in love and their lives were perfect. I don’t see my grandparents much. Dad says it’s their loss.”

“I agree with that,” Nicole told her.

Brittany gave her a quick smile, then turned the page. “That’s me. I was born in Oklahoma, where Dad played football at Oklahoma University. This is the house we lived in. It’s small, but cute. My mom and dad were so lucky. They got to be together all the time, they had a baby they loved.”

Which sounded a little too movie-of-the-week for reality. “I’m sure it was a struggle,” Nicole said carefully. “Being that young, away from home, with a new baby. They had to have been scared.”

“Maybe.” Brittany dismissed her words with a shrug. “But they had each other. Dad talks about those early years all the time. How much fun they had. The boosters were really great, getting mom a job, helping with babysitting. College football is really big there and Dad was a star player.”

She turned another page. “Everyone said they were too young, that it wouldn’t work out, but it did. My parents were in love until the day my mom died.”

Nicole ignored the reference to Serena. Being in this house made it impossible to escape her. But there were other issues. She excused herself and went into the kitchen to help Hawk with the cleanup.

“Brittany showing you pictures?” he asked as he loaded the dishwasher.

“Yes. Everything is well documented.”

He laughed. “Serena liked taking pictures and having them taken. I’m not as into that. People are going to think Brittany is twelve forever.”

“I doubt that.” She collected glasses and carried them over to him. “She talked a lot about what it was like when you and Serena first got married. How wonderful everything was.”

He looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her point.

“It had to have been difficult at times,” she said, trying to sound casual. “You were both young and away from home for the first time.”

“Maybe, but we had a lot of local support. It was good.”

“Brittany seems to feel it was almost magical. As if with enough love, everything is fine.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And?”

“She’s a seventeen-year-old girl with a steady boyfriend. Don’t you want to be talking about consequences? Not every teenage pregnancy ends with little forest animals singing and dancing. Not every young marriage survives.”

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

“And you’re ignoring my point.”

He gave her an indulgent smile. “I’ve got this covered. Brittany’s a good kid. We talk. I know what’s going on in her life. She and Raoul aren’t ha**g s*x yet. I’d know if they were.”

It wasn’t his fault, Nicole thought, trying not to take any of this personally. He was a man. A father, but still a man. He saw what he wanted to see.

“Hawk, you didn’t even know Raoul had been thrown out of his foster home. He’d been living in that abandoned building for weeks. Weeks in the summer, when it’s warm and they were alone for who knows how long with no distractions. Are you sure about the sex thing?”

He straightened. “Nicole, I know you’re trying to help, but this isn’t your concern. Brittany and I are close. We talk and I trust her. You’re not a parent, so you’re just going to have to believe me on this one.”

She ignored the dismissal. “I raised my sister from the time she was little. I would say I have experience.”

“Look how that went.”

She stiffened. “It was a different circumstance.”

“I know my daughter a whole lot better than you do. Nothing’s going on with Raoul.”

Nicole was willing to bet a lot that he was wrong. “Why wouldn’t it be? You’ve taught her that young love heals all. You’ve taught her that getting pregnant at seventeen is just the beginning of the adventure.”

“I’m not going to talk about this anymore,” he told her.

“Why? Because there’s only one point of view? Because only you get to be right? I actually hope I’m wrong, Hawk, because if I’m not, both of you are going to learn a hell of a lesson.”

He stared at her. “What is this really about?”

“What?”

“You have an agenda. You must. You’re putting way too much energy into my daughter’s personal life. What’s your real problem?”

She couldn’t believe it. She was just trying to help. To be a friend. But could he see that? Of course not.

“You’re my problem,” she told him. “I’m going home.”

She walked to the front door, half expecting him to follow her and tell her to wait. That they could talk about the situation and find common ground. But he didn’t.