He nodded. “My mother’s been trying to convince me that one evening a week isn’t too much to take for myself. And she likes having that time to bond with her grandchildren. To be honest, I still feel guilty about taking any time at all away from them, but I’ve about reached the conclusion that she’s right. I need some time for myself.”
She wasn’t sure where, exactly, he was leading with this, but she nodded. “Of course you do.”
His grimace let her know that he wasn’t satisfied with the way his words were coming out. “I’m trying to say that I want to see you again.”
She smiled. “I’d like that, too.”
“Next Friday?”
“I have no plans for next Friday.”
He leaned over to plant a quick, firm kiss against her lips. “You do now. I’ll call.”
“Do that. I hope Abbie feels better soon.”
“Thanks. G’night, Jamie.”
“Good night, Trev.” She watched him walk to his car, but closed the door before she could be tempted to watch him drive out of sight.
With a bemused sigh, she turned away from the door as the sound of his car engine faded into silence. Her gaze fell on the couch, where the throw pillows, scattered on the floor and scrunched at one end, reminded her of exactly what his phone call had interrupted. She sighed again, this time in wistfulness.
He wanted to see her again.
She spared a fleeting thought for her old rule—no men with children. Tonight was a prime example why she’d made that rule in the first place. She’d always considered herself too selfish to share a man’s time with his kids, especially since she knew she would always come second in his priorities. Which was the way it should be, of course—she certainly couldn’t be interested in a man who put his children second.
Shaking her head at her own inconsistencies where Trevor McBride was involved, she crossed the room to straighten the pillows. She would see Trevor again in a week, she thought. Now all she had to do was figure out how to entertain herself in the meantime.
ABBIE’S TOO-WARM little face was buried in the curve of Trevor’s throat, her sleep-limp body curled snugly into his arms. She’d dropped off almost as soon as he’d pi
cked her up, having fought sleep as long as she could. He sat in his mother’s dimly lit kitchen, a cup of herbal tea in front of him, while Bobbie sipped her own tea on the other side of the table. The house was quiet, with everyone else having gone to bed before Abbie’s fretful outburst.
“I’m sorry I had to cut your evening short,” Bobbie said. “I didn’t know what else to do with her. She refused to let me comfort her. She wanted her daddy.”
“It’s only because she doesn’t feel well.”
“I didn’t take it personally,” Bobbie assured him. “I just regretted having to spoil your evening with Jamie.”
Trevor made a production of straightening Abbie’s nightgown. “No problem. We were only having coffee and talking.”
“Mmm.” Her tone made him feel like a teenager whose protestations of innocence weren’t quite ringing true. “You like Jamie, don’t you?”
Now she was talking to him as if he were that same teenager. He gave her a look over his daughter’s head. “Yeah, Mom, I like her. I thought I would ask Wade to ask Emily to ask Jamie if she likes me, too.”
She frowned at him. “There’s no need for sarcasm.”
“Well, what do you expect? I’m thirty-one, and you’re quizzing me as if I were sixteen.”
“I wasn’t trying to pry. I just think it’s nice that you’re getting out. You’ve been so isolated and withdrawn since you moved back to Honoria. It’s time for you to start living again.”
“I’ve hardly stopped living since I moved back. I’ve been kind of busy. Starting almost from scratch in private practice, learning Dad’s business, taking care of the kids…”
“But you haven’t had much fun,” Bobbie broke in. “I think if anyone can bring plain old fun back into your life, it’s Jamie Flaherty. I’ll admit she’s a little eccentric—one could hardly expect otherwise considering her raising—but I’ve always liked her. Even when she went through her rebellious stage—that would have been after you left for college, I suppose—I knew she was really a nice girl with a good head on her shoulders. I wasn’t at all surprised when Ellen told me Jamie was coming back from New York to take the drama position. I knew she’d only moved there to get away from home. Playacting was always her way of escaping, and she was good at it.”
“I’ve never seen her act,” Trevor admitted, “but I would imagine that she’s very good at it.” He suspected that Jamie was good at anything she tried—and a few of those things he was becoming very impatient to find out for himself.
“You are going to see her again, aren’t you?”
“Next weekend. But, Mom, Jamie and I are just friends, okay? Don’t start making more out of it than that.”