Brenda Harlen – Merry Christmas, Baby Maverick! (страница 6)

He moved to the sink and washed his hands. “What can I do to help with dinner?” he asked, desperate to change the topic of conversation.

“You can get down the pitcher for the gravy.” Melba gestured to a cupboard far over her head. “Then round up the rest of the family.”

Trey retrieved the pitcher, then gratefully escaped from the kitchen. Of course, he should have expected the conversation would circle back to the topic of marriage and babies during the meal.

“So what’s been going on in town since I’ve been gone?” he asked, scooping up a forkful of the potatoes Claire had mashed.

“Goodness, I don’t know where to begin,” his grandmother said. “Oh—the Santa Claus parade was last weekend and the Dalton girl got engaged.”

The potatoes he’d just swallowed dropped to the bottom of his stomach like a ball of lead. “Kayla?”

His grandmother shook her head. “Her sister, Kristen.”

Trey exhaled slowly.

He didn’t know why he’d immediately assumed Kayla, maybe because he’d seen her so recently and had been thinking about her for so long, but the thought of her with another man—engaged to another man—had hit him like a physical jab.

He’d been away from Rust Creek Falls for months—it wasn’t just possible but likely that Kayla had gone out with other guys during that time. And why shouldn’t she? They’d spent one night together—they didn’t have a relationship.

And even if they did, he wasn’t looking to fall in love and get married. So why did the idea of her being with another man make him a little bit crazy?

“Who’d she get engaged to?” he asked, picking up the thread of the conversation again.

“Maggie Roarke’s brother, Ryan,” Claire said.

Trey didn’t know Ryan Roarke, but he worked with his brother, Shane, at the Thunder Canyon Resort. And he knew that their sister had moved to Rust Creek Falls the previous year. “Maggie’s the new lawyer in town—the one married to Jesse Crawford?”

His grandmother nodded. “She gave up her fancy office in LA to make a life here with Jesse, because they were in love.”

“I thought it was because he knocked her up,” Gene interjected.

Melba wagged her fork at her husband. “They were in love,” she insisted.

“And five months after they got married, they had a baby,” Gene told him.

His wife sniffed—likely as much in disapproval of the fact as her husband’s recitation of gossip. “What matters is that they’re together now and a family with their little girl.”

“Speaking of little girls,” Trey said, looking at his cousin’s daughter seated across from him in her high chair. “I can’t get over how much this one has grown in the past few months.”

“Like a weed,” Levi confirmed, ruffling the soft hair on the top of his daughter’s head.

Bekka looked up at him, her big blue eyes wide and adoring.

“No doubt that one’s a daddy’s girl,” Claire noted.

Her husband just grinned.

“Speaking of Kayla Dalton,” his grandmother said.

“Who was speaking of Kayla Dalton?” Gene asked.

“Trey was,” Melba said.

“We were talking about Bekka.”

“Earlier,” Melba clarified. “When I mentioned the Dalton girl got engaged, he asked if it was Kayla.”

“Hers was just the first name that came to mind,” Trey hastened to explain.

“And I wonder why that was,” his grandmother mused.

“Probably because he was up close and personal with her at Braden and Jennifer’s wedding,” Claire teased.

“Anyway,” Melba interjected. “I was wondering if you were going to see Kayla while you’re in town.”

“I already did,” he admitted. “She walked by the community center when we were unloading the truck.”

His grandmother shook her head as she began to stack the empty plates. “I meant, are you going to go out with her?”

“Melba,” her husband said warningly.

“What? Is there something wrong with wanting my grandson to spend time with a nice girl?”

Claire pushed away from the table to help clear it.

“Kayla is a nice girl,” Trey confirmed. “But if you’ve got matchmaking on your mind, you’re going to be disappointed—I’m not looking to settle down yet, not with anybody.”

“And even if he was, Kayla is hardly his type,” Claire noted.

Levi’s brows lifted. “Trey has a type?”

“Well, if he did, it wouldn’t be the shy wallflower type,” his wife said.

“Still waters run deep,” their grandmother noted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Trey asked warily.

“It means that there’s a lot more to that girl than most people realize,” Melba said, setting an enormous apple pie on the table.

Claire brought in the dessert plates and forks.

“And ice cream,” her grandmother said. “Bekka’s going to want some ice cream.”

“I think Bekka wants her bath and bed more than she wants ice cream,” Claire said, noting her daughter’s drooping eyelids.

“Goodness, she’s falling asleep in her chair.”

“My fault,” Levi said, pushing his chair away from the table and lifting his daughter from hers. “She missed her nap today when I took her to story time at the library.”

“Didn’t I tell you to put her down as soon as you got back?” Claire asked.

“You did,” he confirmed. “But every time I put her in her crib, she started to fuss.”

“Why don’t you give in to me whenever I fuss?” his wife wanted to know.

He kissed her softly. “Are you saying I don’t?”

“Not all the time,” she said, a small smile on her lips as they headed out of the dining room.

“I guess they’ve worked things out,” Trey mused, stabbing his fork into the generous slab of pie his grandmother set in front of him.

“I really think they have,” Melba confirmed. “There will still be bumps in the road—no relationship is ever without them—but over the past few months, they’ve proven that they are committed to one another and their family.”

“If the kid doesn’t want ice cream, no one else gets ice cream?” Gene grumbled, frowning at his naked pie.

“You don’t need ice cream,” his wife told him.

“You didn’t need those new gloves you came home with when you were out Christmas shopping last week, but you bought them anyway.”

Trey fought against a smile as he got up to get the ice cream. His grandparents’ bickering was as familiar to him as the boarding house. They were both strong-willed and stubborn but, even after almost sixty years of marriage, there was an obvious affection between them that warmed his heart.

After they’d finished dessert, his grandmother asked, “So what are your plans for the evening?”

“Do they still show movies at the high school on Fridays?” Trey had spent more than a few evenings in the gymnasium, hanging with his friends or snuggling up to a pretty girl beneath banners that declared, “Go Grizzlies!” and had some fond memories of movie nights at the high school.

“Friday and Saturday nights now,” she told him.

“Two movie nights a week?” he teased. “And people say there’s nothing to do in Rust Creek Falls.”