GINA WILKINS – Seductively Yours (страница 7)

“Lucas’s innocence certainly swayed public opinion in his favor,” Trevor commented dryly. “But not as much, perhaps, as the fact that he made himself a fortune in the California computer industry while he was away. The snobs were much more gracious to the rich businessman than they had been to the rebel he’d been before he left town.”

“That I believe,” Jamie murmured, thinking of times in the past when she had been shunned because of her own less-than-ideal family background. Being the only daughter of two alcoholics whose marital battles had been well know in the community, Jamie knew what it was like to grow up outside the tight social cliques in this town. “I’m glad Lucas has done well for himself. I understand he and Rachel Jennings were married and live in California.”

“They seem very happy,” Caleb agreed. “Lucas needed someone like Rachel to calm him down. He was always so hotheaded and volatile, and she’s so calm and restrained—they offset each other very well. They announced just last week that they’re expecting a baby. It’ll be interesting to see what kind of father Lucas makes.”

“Your family is growing rapidly,” Jamie commented.

Caleb nodded in visible satisfaction. As the only surviving member of his generation, he must be pleased that the McBride name would carry on, Jamie decided.

“Uncle Lucas designed this game,” young Clay remarked, proving that he’d been monitoring the adults’ conversation while seemingly engrossed in his toy. “It’s called a Rebelcom and it’s way cool.”

“You’ll have to show it to me after dinner,” Jamie suggested. “I have a weakness for cool electronics.”

Clay nodded and pushed another game button, returning to his play.

“I got one, too,” Sam piped up. “For my birthday. You can see mine, if you come to my house.”

Jamie smiled down at her young admirer. “Maybe I’ll do that sometime.”

She didn’t look at Trevor as she spoke, though she wondered how he felt about his son inviting her to their house.

“So now I’ve asked about all the McBride cousins except Savannah,” she commented, turning back to Caleb. “I know from the grapevine that she married the writer Christopher Pace and they divide their time between L.A. and Georgia. I assume she’s doing well?”

Caleb nodded at the mention of his late brother’s only daughter. “Savannah’s fine. Seems happy as a clam. Her husband is a decent guy, even if he does hang out some with those Hollywood types.”

Smiling, Jamie asked, “And her twins?”

“Teenagers now. Good kids, both of them, and they’re crazy about Kit. He legally adopted them. I sort of hated to see them give up the McBride name, but it seems to have made them feel more like a family, so I guess they made the right decision.”

Jamie hadn’t forgotten the big scandal when Savannah McBride, head cheerleader, homecoming queen, beauty pageant winner and pampered princess, had become pregnant with twins when she was sixteen. Jamie had been only ten or eleven at the time, but everyone in Honoria had known about Savannah’s predicament and the controversy that had ensued when she’d named Vince Hankins as the father—an accusation the high-school jock had cravenly denied. Jamie was glad Savannah and her children had turned out all right.

The McBrides had been providing fodder for the town gossips for years, she mused. It had been something that had made her feel a kinship with them, since she’d been the subject of some avid gossip herself during her admittedly reckless teen years.

“You haven’t mentioned your family yet this evening,” Caleb said, politely directing the conversations away from his own clan. “How is your mother?”

“She’s fine.” Jamie knew her tone had become stilted, but it always did when she talked of her mother. “She’s living in Birmingham now, close to her sister.”

“And your father?”

She felt her neck muscles tighten even more when she replied. “Last I heard, he was living in Montana. We don’t really stay in touch.”

“I see.”

There was a brief, awkward silence, which seemed to hold for several tense moments. Then Abbie laughed and babbled something, baby Claire fussed and Bobbie came into the room to announce that dinner was served. Relieved to have the attention diverted from herself, Jamie lifted her chin, pasted on a bright smile and rose to join the others as they moved toward the dining room.

THE MAIN COURSE was well under way by the time Trevor reached the conclusion that his son was seriously smitten. Sam had hardly taken his eyes off Jamie since she’d arrived. Unfortunately, Trevor was having a similar problem.

He knew what he saw in Jamie—the same things he’d noticed even back in high school. He couldn’t imagine any normal male being entirely immune to Jamie Flaherty’s less-than-subtle sexuality. But he wondered what it was about her that held his boy so enthralled. Her bright red hair—which, he recalled, had been a medium brown when he’d known her before? Her easy laugh and quick, expressive movements? The fact that she had saved Sam’s life?

Jamie couldn’t have been more opposite—outwardly, at least—to Trevor’s late wife, Melanie. Melanie had been quiet, dignified, so prim and neatly groomed as to be almost porcelain perfect. She’d had a sense of humor, but it had been understated, restrained. If someone had put them side by side, one might have compared Jamie to the sun—bright, conspicuous, hot—and Melanie to the moon—pale, quiet, cool. Like the moon, Melanie had kept her dark side hidden, even from her husband.

Abbie interrupted his uncharacteristic daydreaming by banging her spoon on the tray of her high chair. She squealed in delight at the ensuing clang and did it again. Trevor reached over to catch her hand. “No, Abbie. Eat,” he said, redirecting her attention to the bite-size pieces of food on the unbreakable plate in front of her.

Gazing at him with blue eyes that were exactly like her mother’s, Abbie gave him a slobbery grin. “Daddy,” she said.

His throat contracted, a now-familiar mixture of love and heartache he often felt when he looked at his tiny daughter. “Eat your dinner, Abbie,” he repeated a bit gruffly, holding a slice of banana to her rosy lips.

Once she was busy with her food again, he turned back to his own plate. His gaze collided abruptly with Jamie’s across the table, and he resisted the impulse to squirm in his seat. He couldn’t read her expression, but he had the uncomfortable sensation that she saw entirely too much when she looked at him.

As was often the case, Bobbie dominated the dinner conversation. Trevor loved his mother and knew she had a kind heart and a generous nature, but he wasn’t blind to her bossiness or her penchant for being a little overbearing. While there were a few people who couldn’t stand her, most folks overlooked her shortcomings in favor of her many good qualities. She’d been teaching in elementary school since before Trevor was born, and few questioned her competence—or her knack for running the most efficient and well-behaved classrooms in the school.

At the moment, she was on a diatribe about an incident that had happened to her through the locally owned bank where Emily had worked for several years, before quitting to be a full-time mother.

“All this new technology that’s supposed to make things easier for the customers—it’s just a lot of garbage,” Bobbie said bluntly. “I called yesterday to see if a check had cleared, and I spent forty-five minutes on the telephone with some girl giving me directions on how to use the new automated teller service. I told her I don’t want to talk to a recorded teller, and she said I had to learn how, because it would be much more ‘convenient’ for me in the long run. I want to know what’s ‘convenient’ about having to punch in a half-dozen code numbers and then listen to a recording I can hardly understand, hmm? She could have given me the information I needed in less than five minutes. Laziness, that’s what it is. No one wants to provide personal service anymore.”

“The automated teller system really isn’t that complicated once you learn it, Aunt Bobbie,” Emily responded, but even she didn’t look particularly convinced by her words.

“‘Automated teller.”’ The very term seemed to enrage Bobbie. “I’ll tell you the same as I told that girl. If everything’s going to be automated down there, why do they need a staff?”

“She’s got a point there, Emily,” Wade murmured, seeming to enjoy his wife’s discomfort.

Having gotten her complaint out of her system, Bobbie abruptly changed the subject. “I talked to Arnette Lynch yesterday,” she said, looking at Jamie as she mentioned the recently retired high-school drama teacher.

“How is her husband?” Jamie inquired politely.

“Still very weak from his chemotherapy treatments, I’m afraid, but Arnette said she thought he was feeling a bit better. She’s confident she made the right decision in retiring.”

“I’m sure she did.”

“I’m so glad you were available to take her place. The students are thrilled to have a real theater veteran teaching them.”

“I enjoy working with young actors,” Jamie responded. “They’re so eager and energetic. And some of them are quite talented.”