by Gina Wilkins
“Two lonely singles sharing dinner and conversation?”
Jamie stuffed her notes into her oversize tote bag. “Something like that.”
“Want to know the local odds for and against the two of you getting married?”
“No.”
Susan laughed. “Let’s just say it’s evenly divided.”
Jamie slung the strap of her tote over her shoulder. This, she thought, was exactly why she and Trevor had made a point of being discreet about their dates, choosing restaurants and movie theaters in different towns. Apparently, their efforts had been a waste of time.
“Everyone is talking about us?” she asked.
“Everyone,” Susan replied cheerfully. “Martha Godwin says she thinks Trevor will be a good influence on you. She says he might even convince you to tone down your hair color. She thinks you’ll be a pretty good stepmom, with Bobbie to guide you, of course. Nellie Hankins is appalled that anyone would even consider getting involved with a McBride, but she supposes you’re as good a match as any for them, considering you’re an actress, and everyone knows what kind of life they live.”
Jamie didn’t know whether to cringe or laugh at Susan’s wicked summation of the local gossip. “With friends like you…”
“I just thought you’d want to know what’s being said. But, if it makes you feel any better, most folks around here have gotten to really like you since you’ve moved back, and they think you and Trevor make a nice couple. I tend to agree with that point of view, by the way.”
Shaking her head, Jamie accompanied Susan out of the church and into the parking lot. “Something tells me Trevor’s going to hate this. He seems to have an especially strong aversion to gossip.”
“Can you blame him? He’s a McBride.”
“Yes, I know. But they have all been model citizens lately. Lucas has been cleared of all suspicion of murder, Savannah’s a respectably married mother, as are Emily and Tara. Trent’s an air force officer and Trevor’s a devoted father and a respected attorney. The old scandals have surely faded in most people’s memories.”
“Old habits die hard around here. Folks still talk about Trevor’s great-grandfather, who was suspected of running a gang of horse thieves. And the gossips do hate losing their favorite targets. They’ll keep watching the McBrides and hoping for some juicy new development. They’re thinking you might be just that.”
Though she knew Susan was only trying to be helpful by sharing what was being said about her, Jamie didn’t like what she was hearing. Trevor was skittish enough about their developing relationship as it was. If he heard that she was the catalyst for renewed gossip about him, he was likely to bolt. And she wasn’t ready for that just yet.
JAMIE DREW a deep breath when the doorbell rang just after noon on Tuesday. A quick check in a wall mirror let her know that her hair was reasonably tidy, and her deep-scooped white T-shirt was neatly tucked into her short khaki skirt. Her legs were bare except for the leather sandals that revealed her silver-painted toenails. Trying to look as if she’d given hardly any thought at all to her appearance, she flung open the door. “Hi, Trev.”
“Hi.” He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “You look very nice.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you were free for lunch today. When I called to invite you, I half expected you to be too busy.”
“Actually, it’s a slow day at the office. Mom and Dad left this morning to meet their new granddaughter, and my next appointment isn’t until three o’clock. Your invitation was a nice surprise.”
She was delighted to hear that—and to discover that he didn’t have to hurry back. “How is the new grandchild?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual.
“I talked to Blake this morning, when Alison was only five hours old. According to him, his daughter is the most beautiful and talented child ever born. He’s wrong, of course, since my own children already hold that distinction, but I allowed him to hang on to his illusions.”
“That was very generous of you.”
“I thought so.” And then he changed the subject. “Something smells good.”
“I just took some rolls out of the oven. It’s so warm out today, I thought we’d have a light lunch. Chicken salad, fruit and wheat rolls.”
“Sounds good. Much better than the burger I was expecting.”
“Then let’s eat. Everything’s ready. Feel free to take off the jacket and tie, if you like. I don’t run a formal dining room.”
She didn’t wait to see if he followed her teasing suggestion, but turned to walk into the kitchen. He joined her only moments later. She had just retrieved a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator, and she deliberately tightened her grip to keep from dropping it when she looked at him. Trevor had shed his jacket and tie, had unfastened the top button of his white shirt and rolled the sleeves up on his forearms. She didn’t know whether he’d run a hand through his hair, or whether it had fallen onto his forehead when he’d removed his tie, but it looked sexily tousled now.
The guy was gorgeous, she thought with a silent, wistful sigh. It was all she could do not to wrap herself around him right there in her kitchen. “Sweetened or unsweetened?” she asked, indicating the tea pitcher in her hands.
Trevor gave her a look that made her stomach muscles flutter. “I like my tea sweet.”
Feeling bold again, she sauntered to the table, set the pitcher down and asked in a drawl, “And how do you like your women?”
“Spicy,” he answered without hesitation.
Delighted, she ran her fingertips down his cheek as she moved past him to her chair. “I think I am corrupting you, Trev.”
“You haven’t heard me complaining, have you?”
“Not yet.” She wondered what he’d do when he heard that the local scandalmongers were placing bets on their future.
During lunch, she told him about the community theater meeting, leaving out Susan’s revelations after-ward, of course. Trevor chuckled when she mentioned Earlene’s grandiose suggestions, then nodded thoughtfully when she mentioned the three plays she planned to recommend at the next meeting.
“I think you’re right to stick with lightweight comedies for now,” he said. “You should have better public response.”
“That’s what I thought. People are less likely to be overly critical when they’re laughing—which means, of course, that I’ll have to make sure they do laugh.”
“Sounds like a lot of work. And a big commitment on everyone’s part—especially yours. Sure you want to be tied down to that?”
She shrugged. “I’m not planning to leave town any time soon. And I like being active in the community.”
“I hope it goes well for you.”
“Thanks. You’re sure I can’t talk you into auditioning for a part?”
“I would rather be tied up and beaten with banana peels,” he said with blunt humor.
She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “Really? I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, but I’m sure it can be arranged.”
He set his tea glass on the table with a thump. “Behave yourself,” he ordered gruffly, visibly reacting to her sizzling look and sultry voice.
She laughed and turned her attention back to her lunch.
By the time their plates were emptied, Jamie was pleased to note that Trevor looked more relaxed than usual. His blue eyes were unshadowed, and a faint smile softened his sexy mouth. Gossip or not, she had come to the conclusion that she was good for him. Now all she had to do was to convince Trevor.
She stood and gathered their dishes, arranging them efficiently in the dishwasher. “What would you like for dessert?”
She hadn’t realized that Trevor had risen from his seat until she heard his voice directly behind her. “You,” he said, his arms sliding around her waist.
Her skin warming, she leaned back against him, laying her hands on his crossed wrists. “Most people want something sweet for dessert.”
“I prefer spicy.” He n
uzzled the back of her neck, his lips tasting the sensitive skin at her nape.
Her eyelids felt suddenly heavy. “So do I, actually.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” His right hand slid upward from her waist, pausing just an inch below her breast. She knew he could feel her heart pounding frantically against her ribs, but she made no effort to hide her reactions from him. If he didn’t know by now that she wanted him, he hadn’t been paying very close attention.
He shifted an inch closer, so that he was pressed more tightly to her, proving that she wasn’t the only one with wants. She moved lightly against him, drawing a husky sound from deep in his chest. Dipping his head lower, he nipped at a patch of shoulder revealed by her deeply cut T-shirt. “Jamie?”
Her eyes were almost closed. She tilted her head and lifted her shoulder to give him better access. “Mmm?”
“I have a couple of hours before I have to be back at the office.”
She turned in his arms, placing her hands on his shoulders and searching his face. “And you want to spend those hours with me?”
“I want to spend those hours making love to you,” he clarified.
She didn’t know what had changed since Friday night, when he’d abruptly pulled away from her and almost run from her house—just as he had the Friday before that. She wasn’t sure what had changed his mind, or why it had happened now. But she wasn’t going to try to talk him out of it. “I can’t think of a better way to spend a couple of hours.”
The skin around his mouth had grown taut during her brief hesitation. Her words made him relax. “Neither can I.”
She pushed lightly against him, forcing him to take a step back, and then she took his hand. Without a word, she moved toward the kitchen doorway.
Without a word, he followed.
9
JAMIE HAD CLOSED the drapes in her bedroom so that the room was dark, except for the small, dimmed lamp on the nightstand. Her ruffled comforter was turned back invitingly, revealing fresh, soft sheets. There was no doubt that the scene had been set in advance.
Trevor turned to her with a quizzical smile. She returned it with a somewhat smug smile of her own. “You can’t blame a girl for hoping,” she said, kicking off her shoes.
He laughed, then grabbed her around the waist and tumbled her onto the bed. “You,” he said, landing on top of her, “are incorrigible.”
Maybe. But she had made him laugh. And that was something she’d bet few other woman had been able to offer him lately. Eager to taste his smile, she reached up to pull his mouth down to hers.
His laughter evaporated in a flash of fire. Gathering her into his arms, he swept her into the heat with him.
Her short skirt had ridden high on her thighs and Trevor didn’t hesitate to explore the expanse of skin revealed beneath it. He slid his palm slowly from her knee to the bunched hem, then slipped beneath it.
Catching her breath, Jamie fumbled with his shirt, trying to rein in her impatience enough to keep from ripping off the buttons. He had a meeting later, she reminded herself. He had to wear this shirt. But if it didn’t come open soon, he was going to have to go to his meeting wearing only a jacket and tie!
Fortunately for his professional reputation, she was able to remove the garment without damaging it. She threw it aside, not caring if it had a few wrinkles later. “Oh, my,” she crooned, spreading her hands over his exceptionally fine chest. “Have I mentioned that you are the most beautiful man in the world?”
He lifted his head from a thorough exploration of the scoop of her T-shirt. “Are you trying to embarrass me again?”
Sliding her fingers into his luxuriously thick hair, she asked, “Does it embarrass you to hear that you’re beautiful?”
“Real men aren’t supposed to be beautiful.”
“I know. It really ticks me off that you’re prettier than I am. But I’m getting over it.”
Trevor chuckled, shaking his head in exasperation. “Would you be quiet? I’m supposed to be giving the compliments. I’m trying to seduce you here.”
She grinned and cupped his face between her hands. “Uh, Trev? Maybe you haven’t realized this, but I’m pretty well seduced already.”
He unsnapped the waistband of her skirt and began to ease it down her hips, revealing skimpy bikini panties. “I should have known,” he said conversationally, “that you wouldn’t even take this seriously.”
Lifting her head, she kissed him. “Trust me, Trev. I am taking this very seriously.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he murmured, tugging at her shirt.
Even Jamie found it hard to be amused when Trevor kicked off the rest of his clothes, tossed aside her lacy undergarments and then, finally, brought them flesh-to-flesh. The sound that escaped her more closely resembled a gasp than a laugh.
Trevor’s rough groan vibrated through her. “I have to warn you,” he muttered, “it’s been a long time. I can’t guarantee fireworks.”
“Don’t you know,” she asked as she snuggled more closely against him, “that every time you kiss me, I see fireworks?”
He smoothed his hand down her bare side. “How is it that you always seem to know exactly what I need to hear?”
“I only say what I think.”
“I know. That’s one of the things I’ve always liked best about you.” His hand closed over her right breast, kneading gently. “One of the things,” he repeated, his voice going hoarse.
Sliding one smooth leg against his rougher one, she smiled shakily. “Are you saying you admire both my mind and my body?”
He didn’t smile in return. “I admire everything about you, Jamie Flaherty.”
Almost unbearably touched by his sincerity, she wrapped herself around him. “Let me show you how much I admire you in return, Trevor McBride.”
She hadn’t been joking when she’d said she didn’t need seduction—but she suspected Trevor needed it very badly. Not because he was hesitant about what they were doing—it was more than obvious that he was willing and ready—but because he needed, just for a little while, not to be the one in control. The one responsible for everyone else’s happiness and well-being.
Pushing at his shoulders, she shifted and rolled until he was on his back and she was draped over him. “This time,” she murmured, “is for you.”
He tried a time or two to take charge again, but she was adamant, holding his arms when he would have reached for her, placing her fingers over his mouth when he would have spoken. “Let me make love to you,” she whispered.
And then she did, nibbling and kissing her way from his lips to his earlobes and down his jaw to his chin. She pressed openmouthed kisses on his throat, enjoying the frantic beating of his pulse beneath her lips. And then she moved lower to taste the nipples nested in a dusting of golden hair. His breath caught sharply in his throat when she wriggled even lower.
“Jamie…”
“Did I mention,” she asked, stroking him admiringly, “that you are absolutely perfect?”
He was also very strong, as he proved when he suddenly hauled her upward and rolled her beneath him, the move accomplished almost before she knew what he intended. He couldn’t play anymore, she realized. He needed—and so did she. His hands were shaking when he donned protection, trembling so badly that he fumbled with the task. The uncharacteristic curse he muttered beneath his breath made her giggle.
“If you’re laughing at me,” he warned, bringing his mouth back to hers.
“I’m laughing with you,” she assured him, gathering him close.
“I’m not laughing,” he growled, but she saw a faint smile on his lips just before he kissed her.
Then he took her breath completely away when he buried himself deeply, completely inside her.
He hadn’t promised her fireworks, but he gave them to her, anyway.
By the time her heartbeat had slowed to near-normal and her breathing had returned to a more regular rhythm, she knew there would be no going back. Before today, she
had been able to avoid the L-word, even to herself, when describing her feelings about Trevor. Now it was no longer possible to resist admitting that she was head over heels in love. She had probably been in love with him since the day he’d kissed her behind the school gym fifteen years ago.
Jamie had always had a strong belief in fate. And she knew now that Trevor was hers.
As for whether she was his—well, that remained to be seen.
TREVOR WAS LYING on his back, staring at the ceiling, his right arm around her, her cheek cradled on his damp shoulder. He hadn’t said anything since a choked cry had erupted from him during their love-making. Jamie had no clue what was going through his mind. She lifted her head and propped her cheek on her hand. “You know how annoying it is when someone asks what you’re thinking?”
He looked at her. “Yeah?”
“Prepare to be annoyed.”
He reached up to smooth her hair. “You want to know what I’m thinking?”
“As long as it’s flattering to me.”
Chuckling, he threaded his fingers through her hair. “I was thinking that I’m very glad you invited me to lunch today.”
“Okay,” she said after a moment. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“If it’s not enough, I have a list of other compliments for you.”
“Hang on to them. I’ll want to hear them all later.” She bent her right leg at the knee, sliding it onto his. “I have a few for you, too, but I wouldn’t want to make you conceited.”
“There are some who might say you’re too late.”
She thought of the flashes of uncertainty she had glimpsed in his eyes. The fleeting hints of self-doubt. Things she hadn’t seen in him when he was younger. Something had shaken him badly since then, something that had hurt him, stolen the laughter from him. At first she had thought it was the shock and grief of his wife’s death. She had begun to wonder if there was something else. For one thing, he never mentioned his wife, not even in passing, and that seemed strange to her.
Of course, now was hardly the appropriate time to ask about her.
What was he feeling now? She had made him laugh and then made him groan in pleasure, but what had aroused the renewed somberness she sensed in him? Not regret, perhaps, but guilt, maybe? Wariness about what the future held for them?