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brushed across her cheek. His fingers, thickly callused from years of playing, were warm. “You got a good guy now. I know he is. Because you’d never settle for less. And you’re gonna get married. Maybe even have kids someday. And you’ll be a kick-ass mama, ’cause that’s what you had. A kick-ass mama. I haven’t done a lot right in my life, but the one thing was picking a hell of a good woman to have my kid. So don’t worry about the past. Look to the future, baby girl. Don’t look for ghosts.”
    He knew. He knew something, but he wouldn’t tell her. Maybe he thought she was prying, but she knew there was something; otherwise, why would he lie about it?
    “Dad, why won’t you tell me?”
    He closed his eyes, and his voice was hoarse. “About what?”
    “About your mother.” She took a deep breath. “About Ava.”
    He drew back as if he’d been burned. “Who told you that?”
    “I did,” Malachi said. “We know your mother was named Ava, Mr. Reed. And we know that you made the records of her disappear. Why did you do that?”
    A trick of the light again, and the scent of sandalwood and ash on the breeze. Ava sucked in a breath and it was gone. What was going on? Her father looked angry. Jasper was never angry with her. At himself? Often. But never with her.
    “Jasper?”
    “You had your man check up on me? Who’s the ‘we’ he’s talking about, huh?” He shook out another cigarette. “What the hell, Ava?”
    “It was… I was curious—”
    “You don’t need to be curious about that shit. You don’t need to know about my maman .”
    She saw Malachi tilt his head at the word.
    Ava asked again, “Your mother? Maman ? Is that French? Was she French, Jasper?”
    He lit the cigarette with shaking hands. “I’m done. I’m not talking about this. Will you move into that damn house or not?”
    “Jasper, I need to know.”
    “No, you don’t. And I’m not talking about her.” He lit the cigarette, and when his eyes met hers again, he was totally shut down. She knew she’d get nothing out of him.
    “Dad—”
    “I fucking hate,” he whispered, “that you call me dad when you want something from me, Ava. Fucking hate that. I’d rather you call me Jasper. Rather you call me dickhead or bastard or one of the million names you probably thought over the years. I’d rather you call me any of that shit than call me dad just to… to get something from me.”
    The anger was always there, though she pushed it down. Forced it back. Chose to treasure what they had and what they could become. But it was always there. The lack of him simmered in her blood.  
    “I never wanted money,” she said from behind clenched teeth. “Or houses. Or cars. Or anything, Jasper . I never wanted any of that stuff. But this? The one thing I’ve ever asked you. This you won’t give me?”
    He fingered the cigarette in his hand and reached for his coffee. Put it down.  
    “Ruben!” he yelled.
    “Jasper, please.”
    Malachi stood up and moved behind her, but Ava stayed sitting, staring at her father, begging him to meet her eyes.  
    Ruben walked around the side of the house. “Yeah, boss?”
    “Please, Dad.”
    Jasper ignored her. “Ava and her fiancé need to go. And find me a bottle of Grey Goose.”
    She shook her head.  
    “Unbelievable,” Malachi said.
    “Congratulations,” Jasper said, lifting his eyes to her mate. “I’m fucking thrilled for her. And I can see how much you love her just by looking at you. I can see shit like that. I love her too. I know she’s pissed at me right now, but she’s the best thing in my life, and I’d do anything to protect her.”
    Malachi squeezed her shoulder and said, “Maybe the way to protect her is by telling her whatever you’re trying to hide.”
    “She may think that, but she’d be wrong.”  
    Her father’s eyes finally met hers, and the haunted look was back. It was the look he wore sometimes when he looked at her mother. At her. The