Winter's Kiss

“I ain’t scared of you, boy. Or your family.”

But he looked scared. He looked terrified.

“If that’s true,” Oakes said, “then you’re even dumber than I thought.”

Michael swallowed before his face twisted and he turned back to her. “You’re the one who’s not worth it,” he told Daphne before pushing past her and walking toward the exit sign.

She watched him go, her arms hugged around herself.

You’re not worth it. What if that was true?

Oakes touched her shoulder, his hand warm and light. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She faced him and his hand dropped away. “You know.” Her voice was tight with unshed tears so she stopped. Cleared her throat. “You know who he is.”

“I suspected,” he admitted. “When I got a better look at him.”

Oh, God. Heat bloomed in her face. She was probably as red as a freaking stoplight. “How?”

He shrugged, all elegant and out-of-place on a school walkway in his expensive suit. “I recognized him from the few times he was with your mom when she dropped off or picked up Zach from Dad’s house.”

Zach had been forced to stay with his father, Clinton Bartasavich, every other weekend and at least one holiday a year until he’d turned eighteen. She guessed it made sense that Oakes, along with his and Zach’s two older half brothers, had been there, too.

“I’m sorry, Daphne.”

She frowned. She was the one who should be apologizing. Begging for forgiveness, from him and Zach and her mother. “For what?”

“That your father tracked you here. Today, especially.”

That was her out. All she had to do was stay quiet. Or, better yet, thank him for coming to her rescue, maybe make some vague comment about Michael showing up as if she’d been completely surprised to hear from him, see him, after all these years.

“He didn’t track me down,” she blurted. As usual, her words were well ahead of her thoughts. “I mean...he did track me down. But he didn’t...track me down. You know?”

“No. I have no idea.”

She curled her fingers into the material of her graduation gown. “It’s just...he knew I was here because I sort of...told him.”

He gave a slight head shake. “You told him?” he asked, his careful tone not hiding his surprise. His disappointment. “Why would you do that?”

His reaction killed her. Made her feel worse than ever. His question surprised her. Her mom and Zach would be more focused on what she’d done. Not why she’d done it.

If they found out the truth, Susan would lay the mother—no pun intended—of all guilt trips on her, one laced with plenty of maternal disapproval and heavy sighs. Zach, on the other hand, would get quiet. Never a good sign. The quieter her brother got, the angrier he was, and God help you if you were the one on the other end of that anger. After he gathered his thoughts, the silence would end and the lecture would begin. He’d tell her she had to be careful. That she couldn’t trust everything that came out of someone’s mouth—especially if that someone was male. He’d go into warrior mode, all overprotective and rigid.

Zach didn’t think she could take care of herself. And that was why Oakes was in her life in the first place. When Zach had joined the marines, he’d asked Oakes to check in on her, to make sure she was okay, and Oakes, being the good guy he was, had gone above and beyond. Stepping into the role of big brother whenever Zach was deployed.

As if she actually needed—or wanted—two older brothers. She wasn’t a freaking masochist.

“I didn’t invite my... Michael here,” she told Oakes. “I just...mentioned that I was graduating and that I was valedictorian and I guess he thought he’d...show up to see my speech or something.”

No way could she admit the only reason her father had come, the only thing he’d wanted from her, was money.

He didn’t want her at all.

“You mentioned it to him,” Oakes said and she wondered if that was a lawyer thing, repeating everything a person said. Not that he was an attorney yet—he’d just graduated from the University of Texas at Austin’s law school a week ago—but he must have picked up a few things during his studies. “So you’ve spoken with him before? Met with him?”

“No. I mean, we haven’t met up or anything. Today was the first time I’ve seen him in years. I swear. But we have been communicating with each other by email for...a few months.” Just because she was being honest didn’t mean she had to be totally honest. “He said he wanted to talk to me. See how I was doing, find out what was going on in my life. He told me he’d quit drinking and I believed him.” Her humiliation was so complete, she couldn’t even look at Oakes’s reaction to her confession. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

“Hey, hey,” he said, his voice so much deeper than the guys her own age, the smooth timbre of it causing her stomach to tighten pleasantly. He took her chin between his finger and thumb, then gently raised her head until she met his eyes. “You are not stupid.”

Tears threatened but she blinked them back. She could let them fall later, during the ceremony, when everyone would assume she was getting weepy and sentimental about the end of her childhood. “I was dumb to believe him. To trust him. I thought... I thought he’d gotten sober for me. So he could be in my life.”

Oakes stepped closer. He smelled good. Some highly expensive cologne probably, but at least he didn’t bathe in it like high-school boys did. “Your father is missing out by not having you in his life, but you? You are not missing a damn thing by him not being in yours. You don’t need him.” His voice lowered, but his eyes never left hers. “You are strong and independent. Smart and funny. Creative and beautiful. You are too special to ever forget that or doubt it—or yourself—for a moment.”

Warmth suffused her. Oakes thought she was special. Beautiful. She’d had guys tell her she was pretty before, others had claimed she was hot or had commented on how her body looked in certain clothes, but no one had ever before called her beautiful.

Other than her mom and that definitely did not count.

She wanted to believe he meant it. But her mom’s lessons had been ingrained after all.

Trusting was harder than it looked.

“You don’t have to say that,” she mumbled, leaning back so he wasn’t touching her anymore. “I’m not a charity case.”

“No one thinks you are.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. We both know the only reason I’m even at this school is because of your family’s money.” Zach wouldn’t touch his trust fund for his own needs, but he had no problem spending his father’s money on her and their mother. He’d bought them a house, paid their expenses and would be footing the bill when Daphne attended Rice University this fall. “Just like we both know the only reason you’re here today is because Zach told you to come.”

Oakes smiled, looking much more like his usual good-humored self. “As much as Zach likes to believe otherwise, he’s not the boss of me. I don’t jump to do his bidding.”

Crossing her arms, she raised her eyebrows. “No?”

“Okay, maybe he did ask me to come,” Oakes said. “But only because he was upset he couldn’t be here himself.”

She was proud of her brother for serving their country, but there were times she wished he’d just stayed in Houston and gotten a regular job that didn’t require permission to attend his sister’s graduation.

But as disappointed as she’d been that Zach hadn’t been granted leave, hearing Oakes admit he was there because Zach had asked him to be was somehow worse.

She’d worry about why that was later.

“Yeah, well, you did your brotherly good deed,” she told him, bending down to pick up the note cards, which she just realized she’d dropped, and her mortarboard, which she placed back on her head. Then she said, “You don’t have to stay for the ceremony. I’ll be sure to tell Zach you attended.”

She turned to walk away but Oakes caught her wrist. Tugged her back. “He asked me to come,” Oakes repeated, “but I’m here because I want to be here. Though I would have preferred if you’d invited me yourself.”

She frowned. “You wanted me to invite you? Why?”

“Because we’re friends.”

Friends. She let the sound of it roll around in her brain a few times. She’d never thought of him as a friend. Yeah, they hung out a few times a year, usually with her mom as some sort of chaperone because an older guy and a teenage girl held too many creepy Dateline implications. Could it be that all this time, when he’d taken her bowling or out to dinner, when he’d asked about her school, her interests and friends, it wasn’t so he could report back to Zach, but because he was truly interested?