on High during the entire ride over. Damn Griffin! But she couldn't think about him and handle her father. "I'm fine, Dad," she said, stepping closer to place a kiss on his cheek. "You're looking well."
He was in his version of casual clothes, meaning he'd gone for a pair of knife-creased khakis instead of the steely-gray slacks he preferred to wear to work. And instead of a white dress shirt, he wore a blue one with the palest and thinnest of olive stripes. Jane had given it to him for Christmas, and she was absurdly pleased to see he had it on.
"Your brothers are here," he said, leading her in the direction of the large family room at the rear of the house. "We're watching baseball."
"Oh, yay," Jane murmured. "All the guys."
Byron and Phillip were seated on the heavy leather sofa placed before the large-screen TV. They didn't look up from their laptops as she entered the room and made only vague gestures with their nontapping fingers as she bussed the top of each of their heads. They were gorgeous creatures, the both of them, but like every Pearson male, no one could call them multitaskers. She glanced at her dad. "You're playing fantasy baseball again this year?"
He'd positioned himself in front of his own computer, set on the bar in the corner of the room. As usual, keeping his distance. "What?" he asked, looking up from the small screen. "Oh, baseball. Yes."
None of them were actually watching the game on the TV. They didn't like sports in the least. Their fantasy league was a statistical challenge the three of them enjoyed. They had bets and side bets and counter bets that were used as mental one-upmanship. Ignoring Jane, they made cryptic remarks to each other as they focused on the computer models they'd probably designed themselves to maximize their chances of winning.
Accustomed to the drill, Jane crossed to the adjoining kitchen and helped herself to a mug of coffee and one of the sweet rolls - possibly her father's only weakness - on the counter. Then she took them both over to the bar and slid onto the stool beside the older man.
"So, Dad," she said. "I'm here."
He continued tapping at his keyboard. "Yes."
Stifling her sigh, she tried again. "You asked me over?"
With a grimace, he hit a key, then turned to his sons. "That was an excellent trade, Phillip." His tone was grudging.
Her brother only grunted at the compliment.
Jane actually sighed this time. What a collection of cavemen.
"I wanted to know about your new job," her father said, half turning on his stool as he finally deigned to address her. "How are you managing with this new author?"
Speaking of Neanderthals... Jane felt a burn crawling up her throat as her mind flashed to Griffin again, and she fingered the brass button fastening her collar closed. Where the heck had that kiss come from, and why the heck had she...well, she'd stood still for it! Remembering her instant surrender was mortifying.
"Jane?"
She cleared her throat. "It's a nonfiction work. A memoir, actually."
"I was asking about the author, not the project," her father remarked. "You know, after the situation with Ian - "
"There's no need to discuss Ian," Jane put in.
"But I still don't understand how you could end that association," Corbett said, frowning. "He seemed to find you talented, and he himself is such a star in publishing that it was foolish of you to - "
"It was time for a change," Jane said. Though, good Lord, taking on Griffin was turning into its own potential disaster. She could feel the imprint of those kisses on her lips, the heat of his hands on her bare flesh. No previous relationship had prepared her for her incendiary response. He likely thought she was easy pickings now. Squirming on the stool, she tried redirecting both her thoughts and the conversation. "What have you been up to, Phil? Byron, how's Caitlyn enjoying her new job?"
He scowled at his laptop. "Caitlyn who?"
Really? "Your girlfriend of three years?"
"Ah. We broke up."
"By!" Jane surged from her stool to take a seat next to her older brother. "I'm sorry. How are you feeling?"
The warm sympathy in her voice appeared to snag his attention. He actually turned his head to gaze at her. "I'm feeling...busy? That's why she broke it off. I have this project that demands a lot of my attention, and she didn't like sharing me with a slide rule, she said, which is ridiculous, because