Catching Serenity by Joann Durgin

because he was her client. Then again, if Jackson needed her help, who was she to resist?
    “ Let me check my schedule,” she said. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
    “ Great. Now, time to put me to work. Where shall I start?” Jackson rubbed his hands together. He motioned to the boxes lined up in front of Kelsie’s desk and arched a brow. “Want me to open some of those?”
    “ It’s not like I have a U-Haul to unload,” she said. “It’s only a few boxes of things Dad’s kept at the house. He figured whatever’s in these boxes will give my office character and infuse it with my personality...or something like that.” She stopped when she realized she was rambling. “I’ll start on this one.” She motioned for him to open another one. Sliding scissors down the middle seam and opening the flaps of a cardboard box, Serenity pulled out bubble wrap and newspaper filler and tossed them to the floor.
    Turning a smaller box around to read the label, Jackson raised a brow. “Princess Serenity Keepsakes?”
    Her gaze dropped to the box. “Dad used to call me that.”
    “ Have you been holding out on me?” Jackson’s eyes widened. “You’re one of those long-lost French royals, aren’t you?”
    She waved her hand as if in dismissal. “Thou shalt not mock Her Royal Highness lest thou risk being separated from one’s head.” Rolling her eyes, she smirked. “Wow. I make a terrible royal.”
    Jackson laughed. “Don’t most dads call their little girl princess?”
    Serenity tried not to stare as he removed his shirt. The T-shirt beneath it was form fitting and showed off his muscles to full advantage. Why am I thinking such things? “I wouldn’t know, but sand castles are involved in my story. Might as well go ahead and open it.” She averted her gaze and nodded to the box at his feet.
    “ I have no idea what’s in them,” she said. “Dad made me promise not to look until I brought them here.” She blew out a breath, wondering if she should open the boxes in private. “It could be fun, but it could also prove a nightmare of untold proportions. Anything you open is at your own risk, and you might be the one needing a shrink.”
    Jackson chuckled and tugged a pocket knife from his jeans, hesitating with it poised in mid-air. “I’ll take my chances. If it’s too personal, I won’t intrude. Say the word.”
    “ No, it’s okay,” she said, motioning for him to continue. As she unpacked desk supplies from her box, she kept one eye on him as he split the small box down the middle in one swift motion. That one contained knick-knacks but she paused a couple of minutes later when she saw him open a wide, flat box marked Fragile. Handle with care.
    When Jackson removed the bubble wrap, unearthing the treasure beneath it, her breath caught in her throat. She remembered the day that photograph was taken. A framed, medium-sized black and white photograph, it depicted her mother blowing a dandelion toward the five-year-old version of herself. Elise’s long, blonde hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. Joy was written in every nuance of her face, mirrored by Serenity’s expression as she reached toward the sky. She loved the crispness of the image. The eye was drawn to the subject without the distraction of color. The photographer had captured a spontaneous, whimsical and tender mother-daughter moment. She remembered the day like it was yesterday.
    Oh, Mama, where are you?
    Taking the photo from him, Serenity moved one hand over her heart. The reality of how much she’d missed her mother was as sharp as a physical pain. “I haven’t seen this in a long time. It used to hang in my parents’ bedroom and I always loved it.” Her father did, too, but it must have been too much for him to face it on a daily basis.
    “ You look a lot like her.” Jackson glanced up at her. “She’s beautiful.”
    “ Thank you. She is—was.” She caught his compliment but ignored it, not sure how to