CHAPTER SEVEN
The rest of the trip to the restaurant they remained silent. But when Trent parked and shut off the truck engine, he turned to Addy.
“Listen, you know Darla will say anything to get at people. Maybe, hopefully, this is just one of her lies.”
“I can always tell when she’s lying. Call it my superpower.” She rolled her eyes. “She wasn’t lying. She’s pregnant, and as far as she believes, my father is the father. Which means—” Addy shivered.
“Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Too late.” She sighed.
“Yeah.” He made a funny face and she chuckled. “Me too.”
“Okay, enough grossness, I’m actually hungry now.” She reached for the door handle. “By the way.” She stopped and looked over at him. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” he said, then rushed to help her out of the high truck.
The fact that she’d lost her lunch earlier caused Addy to overorder. When her massive lasagna arrived, her eyes grew wide at the sheer size of the meal.
“Don’t worry. If you can’t eat it all, I’ll finish it off for you,” Trent said, scooping up some of his spaghetti. “I love lasagna.”
“You McGowans can sure pack the food away,” she joked.
He laughed between bites. “My mother used to accuse us of having black holes for stomachs.”
Addy nodded as she chewed, then took a sip of her wine. “I could totally see that. I bet Carl Sagan would have loved to discover the hidden wonders of the McGowan brothers’ stomachs.”
He laughed. “The eighth wonder of the world.”
“Someone could make a documentary.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I’d forgotten you were such a nerd,” he said, still smiling.
Her smile faltered slightly. “Yes, one of the reasons I was never on a McGowan radar.”
“Would you have wanted to be?” he asked.
Addy thought about how she’d been back then. She shook her head and took another sip of her wine. “No, I suppose not. Still, it would have been a boost to the self-esteem. I always brushed it off that I was too smart for all that stuff.”
“I don’t know.” He sat back and studied her. “Smart women are sexy as hell.”
“Oh?” She leaned closer, enjoying what her second glass of wine was doing to her. Empowering her, making her feel like she could conquer the art of flirting. “Then why did you never try to put your moves on me?” she asked.
His smile dropped away. “Because you were too . . .” He shook his head and avoided her eyes.
“Too?” she teased and took another sip of her wine. “Too smart? Too nerdy? Too skinny? What?”
His eyes met hers, and she felt her toes tingle at the heat radiating from those dark hazel-brown eyes of his.
“Too fragile, too smart, too pretty. Too good for someone like me.” She watched him swallow and felt the entire room shrink from her view. Suddenly they were the only living creatures on the face of the planet. The cheesy Italian music playing in the background faded away, along with the voices and sounds from the busy restaurant.
The only thing left was Trent.
Then, slowly, everything came back to normal as she took several deep breaths. His hand reached out and touched hers. “I didn’t mean to . . .” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I’ve never . . . had to work this hard.”
Her smile was instant and something shifted inside her chest. “I’m glad.”
He closed his eyes. “Now I’m the one that feels . . .”
“Stupid?” She leaned back and took her wine with her. “Don’t. I believe for the first time I’ve finally scratched the surface of Trent McGowan.”
He glanced around and pushed his empty plate away. “So.” His eyes moved to her half-empty plate. “There was a mention of a shared lasagna?”
She chuckled and pushed her plate toward him.
“You owe me an ice cream,” she said, feeling a little more settled as he finished off her lasagna. “Actually Darla owes me a gallon of it, but I’ll settle for a shake at CC’s on the way back to town.”
Trent looked at her and nodded. “Deal,” he said between bites.
They enjoyed their shakes on an old park bench outside of CC’s, a small trailer that sat on the outskirts of town and had been selling ice cream for as long as either of them could remember.
“Why is it the drive back always seems to take half the time?” he said when they pulled in next to her Jeep in the grocery store parking lot.
Her entire body had relaxed under the spell of the lasagna, wine, and mint–chocolate chip shake. She felt like she could sleep for days. Of course, she always felt like that after a powerful cry and a lot of food.
She turned slightly toward him. “I believe that’s a compliment,” she teased.
His right hand came up and brushed a strand of her hair away from her eyes. She hadn’t bothered to braid it today and had worn it down instead.
“It is.” He leaned closer, his eyes on hers. “Addy, I’d like to kiss you.”
She watched the hunger and felt her own building. Hadn’t she dreamed of this for years? She’d wondered what it would be like to have his lips and hands on her.
She moved closer as her body hummed with the possibility. “Okay.”
His lips had just had a moment to touch hers when there was a loud knock on his door, making them both jump.
He peered over and groaned. “Shit,” she heard him whisper and then chuckle. “It’s the fuzz.”
He rolled his window down and looked over at Mike.
“Sorry.” Mike waved at her. “I was just doing a drive-by and spotted Addy’s Jeep. Is everything okay?”
“Peachy,” Trent said. “Other than a spoiled moment.” He noticed Addy’s cheeks heat.
Mike smiled and took a step back. “I’ll let you go. Night.” He tipped the front of his hat and then disappeared.
Trent leaned back in the seat and looked over at her again. “How about we try this again, say, Friday?”
“What? Dinner or the kiss?”
He chuckled. “Both. I’ll cook.”
Her eyebrows shot up in question.
“At your mother’s house?”
He groaned. “Okay, you’ll cook.”
She laughed. “How about I make a picnic and we do lunch on the mountain? I think we can find a good spot and enjoy some warm weather.” She reached for the door handle.
“Perfect, I’ll pick you—”
“No.” She stopped him. “I’ll meet you at the base of the trail.”
Now it was his turn to raise his dark eyebrows. “Afraid of being seen with me?”
She tilted her head and smiled. “You are the enemy.” She slid out of the truck, then leaned back in. “Eleven thirty sharp.”
He nodded, then she felt him watch her unlock her Jeep and get in.
The rest of the week seemed to crawl by. Maybe because Trent’s mind was focused on the lunch on Friday. Everything and everyone seemed to have only one purpose: to get in his way and slow him down.
Bessy had blown a hose, which caused almost a day’s worth of work to be delayed. The second meeting about the school grounds had eaten up another two hours of his Wednesday evening, and then to top it off, his mother scheduled a family meeting on Friday night. A bad omen.
Especially since he knew that she would ask him for an update. Which meant lunch with Addy would have to turn from pleasurable to fact-finding. How could he get information from her without making it look like that’s what he was doing?
Trent knew he had to keep his family as far away from Addy as possible. It wouldn’t do to have his brothers trying to interfere or, worse, to have her interrogate and upset his brothers or mother.
He woke Friday with a massive headache and a sour attitude. But when he walked into the kitchen, his mother stood at the stove, dressed in the long red robe that he’d bought her one Christmas, making banana-pecan pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs. The smell was pure heaven, filling the house with memories of their childhood. He walked up behind her and kissed her cheek as he swiped a piece of bacon.
“For me?” he asked.
She smiled and slapped his hand away from a second piece. “Maybe, if you think you can set the table.”
He rushed to set three places. He poured orange juice and coffee for his mother, then handed her the mug and took over scooping the eggs into the chipped bowl she always served them in.
“We need a new bowl,” he said, frowning down at the massive chip.
“No we don’t.” His mother frowned at him. “Your father gave me that bowl on our second anniversary.”
Trent leaned against the counter. The place still felt empty without the old man. There were times he swore he could hear his father’s voice in the next room. Not a day went by that he didn’t think of the man who would have done anything for him and his brothers. Looking around the house at the small heirlooms around the place always brought up a flood of memories.
“What’s all this?” Trisha walked in, freshly showered and dressed. The woman was an early riser just like his mother. He figured that was one of the reasons the two of them got along so well. It was nice knowing his mother had such a good friend after his father’s death. The pair had become close in the aftermath of Kristen’s kidnapping.
“Something’s been bothering my son, so I figured I’d make his favorite breakfast and wiggle what it is out of him.” His mother smiled into her mug.
“Oh?” Trisha turned from pouring herself a cup of coffee and looked at him. “Is it a girl?”
Trent’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Oh, it is.” Trisha smiled. “Good, I could use a juicy story.” Gail and Trisha walked over and sat down at the table, obviously waiting for him to follow.
“This”—he sat down—“is exactly why I’m trying to hurry up and get my own place.”
His mother chuckled and patted his hand. “Now, now, don’t be cruel, and don’t leave out any details.” She leaned on her elbows and watched him.
He gave in. While enjoying his mother’s delicious breakfast, Trent filled the ladies in on what Darla had told Addy.
“No wonder she was sick,” his mother said. “That poor girl. To think that her father was . . .” She shook her head. “Of course, I don’t believe it for a moment. I’ve known Darla since she was this high.” His mother’s hand hovered just below the tabletop. “That girl’s words don’t add up because she’s never included the truth in her equations.”
He rolled his eyes at his mother’s old joke. “Yeah, we all know she had it in for Addy after—”
“She clocked her?” His mother’s eyes sparkled over her coffee mug.
“You’re just full of spunk this morning.”
His mother’s smile brightened. “Why don’t you go on, sweetie?” Trent filled them in on everything he knew.
“So that’s all very touching and disturbing, but it doesn’t explain why you’ve been in a sour mood all week.” His mother pushed her empty plate away.
“I’m having lunch with Addy today,” he said.
The room went silent.
“And?” his mother finally asked.
“Gail,” Trisha broke in. “I think he was hoping to spend some ‘time’”—the woman actually made air quotes with her fingers—“with Addy instead of grilling her for information.”
His mother looked him. “Oh, honey, that isn’t what tonight’s . . .” She trailed off and shook her head. “Go, have fun. Don’t worry about the meeting. I didn’t intend . . .”
To Trent’s horror, he actually watched his mother tear up.
“Shit,” he said under his breath, causing her tears to turn to anger. “Sorry.” He rose and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s all this about?” he asked as he handed her a tissue.
“It’s just—” She sniffled.
“We’re having a baby,” Trisha broke in.
His eyebrows rose as he looked between the two women.
“Not us, stupid.” Trisha giggled. “We’re going to be grandmothers.”
“What?” Trent almost fell backward. His mother reached out and steadied him.
“They wanted to spring the news on everyone tonight,” Trisha added.
“But . . .” He felt like he was stammering. “So soon?”
The two women laughed. “It only takes once to get it right,” Trisha said.
“What about the wedding?” Trent blinked. His brother had just been talking about putting the wedding off until next spring.
“We’ve convinced them to move it ahead,” Gail said. “I want our last name on the birth certificate.”
“I don’t care what name she has, as long as she has ten toes and fingers,” Trisha added.
“True, but . . .” His mother stopped. “She?”
Trisha waved her hand and laughed. “Whichever sex, I agree with you. Remember, I’m on your side.”
“So?” Trent broke into their chatter.
His mother smiled. “So the wedding will be the first Saturday next month.”
“Wow.” He shook his head. Suddenly the idea of his brother getting married was heavier than it had been. It had been a thing far in the future, now it was looming right in front of them.
Addy’s face flashed before his eyes quickly as he thought about his own future.
His mother’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Yes, and that means we need you to make the backyard look as presentable as possible for about two hundred guests.”
He groaned. With what time?