One More Storm (Mistletoe Matchmakers of Clearwater County #6) - Bonnie R. Paulson Page 0,4

averting her gaze. “Yeah, you’re right. I just wasn’t ready to talk about… him.”

“Let’s make this easier to talk about. Pick one word that describes your father.” That should be easy, right? Tommy was flying blind. The one word he’d use to describe his father wasn’t a word to be said in polite company. Even in bawdy company, the word wasn’t appropriate – dead or alive.

“Which one?” Amanda narrowed her eyes, leaving her arms folded.

“Which one? Like which word?” Tommy furrowed his brow. She’d already confused him and they hadn’t even really gotten started.

“No. Which father. Apparently, the man who raised me isn’t my biological father. My mother had an affair with our family rival and now I found out that a couple of my sisters’ husbands are actually my half-brothers. I’m not quite sure which father you want me to assign a word to.” Her eyes glistened with tears and she dropped her challenging gaze to the top of the table.

Tommy processed what she’d said, unsure how any of that information was helpful for his case. He blinked and when he spoke it was slow. “Well, that’s… Yes, I can see how that would be hard. How about we focus on one at a time. What about the man who raised you? What word would you use to describe him?” Yes, safe. Tommy could do safe. He was stepping into something outside of his realm of understanding and he had a horrible feeling that if he messed up, he could potentially ruin this woman’s life.

“One word?” Amanda took a deep breath and continued staring at the table, as if she were lost in thought.

The room became so quiet that Tommy could hear the different nuances of their breathing.

Amanda’s was a little shallower, a little faster. She had a lot more at stake in those moments spent with Tommy. He was after answers to sell to a client while Amanda was after answers to help figure out her mental game for her life. Definitely more invested. His conscience was pricked and Tommy didn’t like the feeling at all.

“When you look at your father, what do you think?” Tommy twirled the pen he had from his own stuff, grateful he had something to do with his hands, even if it was fidgety and on the annoying side.

Amanda finally raised her gaze to Tommy’s face. “Dad. I would describe him as dad. Does that word count?” Her words trailed off between them, full of emotional questions.

Tommy leaned forward. “I think the most important thing is that the word means something to you. This isn’t what I think about your father, this is what you think about him. If you think of him as Dad, then that is the word you should use.” If he didn’t say so himself, he’d have to say he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Not such a bad job. He’d take it.

A single solitary tear trailed down Amanda’s cheek, stirring something in Tommy’s chest. “What if he doesn’t think of me as his daughter anymore? We all just found out… and… I’m afraid he doesn’t love me anymore.” Amanda’s voice had a raw edge from the emotional upheaval evident in the way she held her shoulders and the tightness to her expression.

Did he refute what she was doubting, or did he recommend a solution?

A lot more hung on the line with this new route he’d decided to take.

How did he back out without compromising everything he’d already done?

Chapter 3

Amanda

The receptionist had made Amanda never want to return to the therapy place. Now, Tommy, her therapist, made her never want to leave.

Was it ethical to have such a good-looking man be a therapist? There was something about him that made it easy to talk, easy to divulge her secrets to him. He didn’t seem like he was asking questions to figure out what was wrong with her, but more like he was engaged in a conversation to get to know her better.

Tommy wanted to get together in a couple days, even made note of it in his notebook before she shook his hand and walked from the room.

Her hand still tingled. She didn’t remember anything spectacular about their standard handshake. Nothing out of the norm, except for the man attached to the hand with broad shoulders, long legs, a hard jawline, and piercing gray eyes.

Who would have thought gray could be so arresting? And, dang her for noticing his eye color. The whole thing was