There were titters from a few women and a couple of open giggles. Trevor wasn’t sure why.
“—so you’re just in time to join us for lunch!” Gram concluded.
“Um,” Trevor said again, wondering what happened to his usual eloquence. Twelve pairs of curious eyes stared at him. “Hi, everyone.”
There was a chorus of greetings from each of the women in the room, with the exception of the stunning redhead. She nodded politely, but eyed him with obvious suspicion.
Okay, then.
He forced himself to look away from her as Gram made official introductions—naming every single lady in attendance and, with every breath, editorializing and sharing new facts about either him or her book-club members.
“This is Jolene Parker,” his grandmother said, referring to a pretty twenty-something brunette. “She shares your love of basketball. Jolene, did you know that Trev played in both high school and college?”
The woman shook her head and smiled sweetly at him as Gram continued to go person to person around the room.
“...and this is Phoebe Spencer, who has done a lot of traveling with her husband Joe, including some recent trips to Chicago. Didn’t you and your hubby pass through Mirabelle Harbor this year?” Gram asked. “That’s where Trevor lives and works.”
It was then that he noticed the hottie who’d initially caught his eye wasn’t the only good-looking redhead in the room. But with a double mention of a husband, Phoebe was definitely off limits.
She, however, was actually smiling cheerfully at him, which was more than he could say for the other red-haired woman, who was still scowling a few seats away.
“I haven’t had the pleasure of visiting there yet,” Phoebe replied, “but I’ve heard from Bernie that it’s a beautiful suburb.”
Trevor nodded. “Thanks. I love it. It’s home.”
“And, as the saying goes, there’s no place like home,” an older lady interjected, shooting a significant look at the other club members. The mystery redhead’s scowl deepened.
“This is Debbie Moran,” Gram said, indicating the woman who’d just spoken. “We go way back, don’t we?”
The no-place-like-home lady—aka Debbie—looked vaguely familiar to him. She laughed at this comment and said, “We sure do! Why, how many weekends, Bernie, did you, Kent, my Carl, and I play Trivial Pursuit together?” She turned toward Trevor. “It was hard to beat your Grandpa Kent on those yellow pie questions.”
Trevor grinned. “Yeah. He did love history.”
Debbie nodded. “You probably don’t remember me, but my husband and I were at the service for your grandpa—God rest his soul.”
Ahh. That explained the facial recognition.
Before he had a chance to respond, his grandmother continued, “And this is Debbie’s niece, Tina Marie Moran.” Gram pointed at the beauty who’d caught his eye the second he’d walked into the house. He knew they hadn’t been previously introduced. He would have remembered her. “She’s a very talented singer. And you like folksy country music, don’t you, Trev?”
He figured that saying, “Not usually,” wouldn’t be the correct response, even if that were the truth. He tended to be more of an alternative rock guy, something he shared with his buddy, Blake Michaelsen, back home. They’d gone to many wild outdoor concerts together in the past decade and a half.
But, unlike Blake, Trevor didn’t mind the occasional country or folk song.
In moderation.
Or when sung by someone who looked liked she’d just waltzed out of heaven and materialized on the far-right side of Grandma Bernadette’s spring floral love seat.
So, instead, he nodded mutely at her and was rewarded with a fractional smile from the woman in return.
Tina Marie. Wowsers. He could barely catch his breath.
“...and this is Margie Ferguson, the best church organist west of the Mississippi,” Gran said, continuing with her methodical introductory tour of the book-club members, until she’d made certain that everyone in the room knew everyone else.
In all honesty, though, he’d stopped listening so attentively to the details about the other book clubbers once he’d learned Tina Marie’s name.
He studied her carefully and, hopefully, with at least a modicum of subtlety. She wore no gold or diamond rings on her fingers. There had been no mention of a husband or a significant other. So there was no reason, in his opinion, why he couldn’t at least flirt with her for a few hours this afternoon. If only just to see if the spark of attraction he felt full force was mutual. Or if the chemistry he’d dreamed about having with a woman like Tina Marie might last long enough to score him a quick date and, maybe, a couple of kisses.
Better play it cool with Gram around, though. She was a romance lover who fancied herself a part-time matchmaker. She thought nothing of trying to set people up, whether they wanted a relationship intervention or not. And he didn’t have time for wannabe Cupids this week.
He needed to hit the road to Colorado later this afternoon, but he was willing to consider swinging by Sapphire Falls on his way back to Chicago at the end of the week. Maybe hang out with her for half a day or something—just the two of them. Get to chat a little over drinks or dinner. A few hours of alone time with her would be worth another detour.
Not that he was thinking it could be anything more than a pit stop. He was under no illusions that three or four hours of conversation, no matter how riveting, could lead to some kind of committed relationship, especially not a long distance one.
But, hell, he knew what he liked in a woman when he saw it—and Tina Marie Moran had it all. And more. Even if nothing significant could come out of this afternoon’s meet-and-greet (or after a possible date next week, if he could get one), Trevor sure wasn’t opposed to a make-out session or even a discreet hookup, if she was interested.
For a second, he almost wished he didn’t have to hightail it out of Sapphire Falls so soon.
~*~
Tina knew a heartbreaker when she saw one, and Bernadette Cayne’s smoking hot grandson—with his sharp-dressed city clothes, his insanely handsome face, his charming manners, and his deeply penetrating gaze—was like a living, breathing movie poster for Trouble on Two Legs.
Two long, strong, sexy legs.
The guy was well over six feet fall, which she couldn’t help but notice, especially since he was standing right next to her by Bernie’s dining room table. It was packed without an inch to spare with delectable dishes that the book-club members brought for their gatherings.
But, seriously, how could she possibly focus on Kathy Bennett’s Tropical Fruit Pizza or Viv’s Swedish Meatball Skewers or even Jolene’s amazing Mocha-Cherry Lava Cakes with Trevor towering above her? At her stratospheric height, moments like this almost never happened.
He leaned down—his breath warm near her ear—and asked in a very low voice, “Anything here you’d recommend I try...or avoid?”
In spite of herself, she couldn’t help but find this amusing. “You’re safe with almost everything,” she whispered.
He raised a dark-brown eyebrow. “Almost?”
“Stay away from those.” She surreptitiously pointed to the platter of ham-n-cheese quiche cups at the edge of the table. “Burnt at the bottom. Made by the worst cook in the whole room.” She made a face that she hoped was believably like Mr. Yuk.
And she almost got away with it, too...until Viv exclaimed, “I’m so glad you made your Mini Quiches, Tina Marie! I love these.”
Trevor narrowed his hazel eyes at her, but the corners of his mouth twisted upward. “Worst cook in the room, huh?” he murmured. Then, licking his lips, he reached across the table to put one of her appetizer creations on his lunch plate. He paused, looked her in the eye, and then added a second one.
“You’re living dangerously,” she said. “If you hate them, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He grinned. “I’ll take my chances.”
She shrugged, but she couldn’t help
but grin back at the guy. Much as she wasn’t a fan of those city slicker charming types, she could feel him starting to win her over. Just a teeny tiny bit. And she supposed it couldn’t hurt to be nice to him. His grandmother was such a dear friend to Aunt Debbie, the woman who’d raised her since toddlerhood. Besides, nothing about Trevor said he’d be in Sapphire Falls for very long. She didn’t have to worry. After all, how much trouble could one man cause in a few hours?
It didn’t take more than about twenty minutes, though, for Tina to completely revise her opinion.
After he chose to sit down next to her in the living room, slightly apart from the next cluster of book-club members, and the two of them started talking, Tina recognized that Trevor Cayne was capable of causing a lot of damage in a stunningly short amount of time. When he flipped on his charisma and radiated the full force of his attention upon her, he became nearly impossible to ignore. Try as she might to resist, she was drawn into his orbit within minutes, curious to learn more about him and his life in Mirabelle Harbor and, worst of all, attracted to him with an intensity she hadn’t felt since...since...possibly ever.
This was not good.
She squinted at him. “How long are you staying here?” she asked, just as he bit into the second quiche cup.
He started laughing and coughing at the same time.
“You all right there, Trev?” his grandmother asked from halfway across the room.
He took a long gulp of lemonade from his glass and patted his chest. Tina was aware of how solid it looked. Even hidden under that designer dress shirt.
“I’m fine, Gram. Just swallowed too fast. Everything here is so tasty.”
The other women in the room nodded appreciatively at the compliment, but Tina bit her lip. How many women did he have falling under his spell every hour of every day? From the envious look on Jolene Parker’s face, Tina wasn’t the only one who was drawn to him. If she knew what was good for her, she should have steered Trevor toward Jolene instead, rather than let him corral her with that incisive gaze and wickedly sensual smile.
When the eyes of the room had turned away from them for a split second, though, Trevor nodded at Bernie’s wall clock. It was made of polished mahogany and shaped like the state of Nebraska. “I’ve known you for exactly thirty-six minutes, Tina Marie,” he whispered, a good-humored note underscoring the words. “Have I already overstayed my welcome?”
She shook her head and felt herself blushing. Damn her light complexion. “No, I’m sorry. That came across very rudely. I only meant—uh, I mean, I was just wondering if—”
“If we’d have enough time for me to buy you a drink on my return trip?” he finished for her, which was most definitely not the way she would have completed that sentence.
“What?”
“It’s been some years, but I remember the last time I was in Sapphire Falls that there was a popular bar in town. The Come Again. It’s still there, right?”
“Yes, it’s just a couple of miles down the road, behind City Hall. But you don’t need to buy me—”
“It would be my pleasure. I’ll be back this way by Wednesday or Thursday, so if you’re free on one of those nights—”
“Thanks, but I won’t be. If all goes as planned, I’ll be in Nashville by then.”
He raised his eyebrows. “For a visit or for good?”
“If all goes as planned,” she said again, “it’ll be for good.”
“Wow.” He paused, taking this in. “Then I guess there’s no time to waste. What are you doing this afternoon?”
Laundry. De-cluttering her files. Maybe a little packing.
“Nothing major,” she had to admit.
“Good. Because you’d be doing me a favor by going out with me. I’m looking forward to chatting with my grandmother, but I know this isn’t the only social event she’s got on tap for today. She’s an insatiable card player, and I overheard Viv mention something about a tournament going on at the community center this afternoon. So, since I won’t get to see you on my return trip, it would be one of the week’s highlights to buy you a drink and spend a little time chatting with you while Gram has her bridge game. Then I won’t feel so guilty for descending on her today.” He smiled at her as if it were all settled now. “To be honest,” he added, “I’ll only be able to stay out for an hour or two. I need to get back here, have a quick talk with Gram, and then hit the road. I’ve got a meeting in Colorado Springs on Monday, so, in answer to your earlier question, my time here is pretty short.”
Ah. So, she’d called it right. He wouldn’t be hanging around Sapphire Falls for long.
Whew.
Although, it probably was still too long for what was good for her. Trevor Cayne was like a strong, fast-acting medicine—mild in small doses, lethal in large ones. She had to be careful not to take in too much.
“What are you doing in Colorado?” she asked.
“Interviewing one of the organizers of the Olympic Committee,” he said, pride in his voice. “I’m getting a tour of the headquarters, snapping a few pictures of the facility, meeting some of the athletes and trainers. It’s for a big story I’m working on.”
Oh, yeah...right. Former jock turned journalist. He sounded so excited about this project, though. Not her particular brand of excitement, but she recognized genuine enthusiasm when she saw it.
That was something very different from her experiences with David. His infidelity aside, he didn’t have activities that lit him up this way. Trevor’s passion intrigued her.
“Sounds like you’re really looking forward to it,” she said.
“I am. I love the subject matter, of course, but it’s also a dream of mine to write something that’ll hopefully catch the attention of a certain magazine publisher I’ve been targeting. I’ve got my fingers crossed that this story is the one.”
“Well, it’s important to go for your dreams,” she said, although her aunt would always clarify that saying by adding, But keep your options open. Aunt Debbie wasn’t wild about Tina’s Nashville plan, but she tried to be encouraging and supportive in her own way. Really, just about everyone had been. Especially after David and Lori’s betrayal.
“It is,” Trevor readily agreed. “But enough about me. I’d like to hear about you.”
By the time the book-club gathering was beginning to wrap up, Tina had somehow managed to divulge half her life’s story to the guy. It was unsettling how expertly he could elicit details from someone.
Then again, he was a journalist. He had mad interviewing skills.
She even heard herself confessing aloud something she rarely admitted to close friends, let alone complete strangers.
“I’m kind of like the Anne of Green Gables of Sapphire Falls,” she told him with a laugh. And unlike many males of her acquaintance, Trevor was well read enough to catch her literary meaning—at least part of it.
“Because of your stunning red hair?” he asked, a grin curling his lips.
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for calling it stunning. Messy would be more accurate, though.”
He shrugged, his grin broadening into a full devilish smile. “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.” He reached out to twirl an especially unruly strand of curls close to him. His touch was brief. Respectful. Almost reverent. She held her breath. This was surprisingly intimate for someone she’d know for barely an hour and, yet, it didn’t seem out of line, given his personality and their conversation. He pulled away, swallowed, and then asked, “So, is Sapphire Falls as idyllic as Anne’s beloved Avonlea?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “A little, perhaps. But my hair and my hometown isn’t the only reason I feel like Anne Shirley. I’m an orphan, too. My parents died in a car crash when I was three. My mom’s older sister, Aunt Debbie, and her husband, Uncle Carl, didn’t have children of their own. They adopted and raised me.”
He eyed her—his gaze turning serious. “So, while you love them and know they love you, you never quite felt like you completely belonged here...
right?”
Her jaw dropped open. He guessed all that from one literary reference?
“Whoa,” she murmured. “Is it so obvious that I don’t fit in?”
“Nah. I just recognize the look.” He smiled again, more gently this time. “I felt that way more than once.”
Before she could ask him about this, her aunt called to her from the foyer. “Ready to go home, Tina Marie?”
She glanced at Trevor. “Well, I...um...”
Aunt Debbie strode into the middle of the living room and headed toward where Tina and Trevor had been loitering, Bernadette on her heels. The other book-club members were busy gathering their empty platters and filtering out of the house. Only Phoebe shot Tina a questioning look as she meandered to the door.
“Thanks for hosting, Bernie,” Phoebe called out. “Great seeing y’all, ladies. Can’t wait to read that steamy Russian romance for next month.” Then, just to Tina, she gave the universal hand gesture for “Call me!” before waving and heading to her car.
“Steamy Russian romance?” Trevor mouthed, slanting his grandmother an odd look.
Bernadette said, “My dear Trev. It’s too bad you arrived after we’d already discussed the Italian story for today. A very tasteful tale of a woman who passionately took two male lovers, stripped them of their clothes in her lush garden, and then tied them—”
“Oh-okay, Gram,” Trev interrupted, turning an interesting shade of red. “I, uh, think I get it. Sounds...intriguing.”
“It was, yes! But don’t be disappointed for missing out. Even if you didn’t read the book, I’ve got film clips I could show you and—”
“I’ll bet,” he said brightly. “But, um, I was hoping Tina Marie would be willing to accompany me to the Come Again for a quick visit, and that she might fill me in a little more on the town.” He looked earnestly at Aunt Debbie. “It’ll just be for an hour or so. And I’d be happy to give your niece a ride back home afterward, ma’am, if that’s all right with you.”
Sapphire FallsGoing For It Page 2