Wade, who’d been setting plastic containers of food out on a large concrete picnic table, joined them. “Hey, Trevor.”
“Hey, Wade. You haven’t gotten into the food yet, have you?”
“No, I’ve managed to stay out of it so far. Emily threatened to whup me if I even took a bite of anything.”
Trevor chuckled and glanced down at his petite cousin. “I have no doubt that she could do it.”
“Neither do I. That’s the only thing that’s kept me out of those containers. But I’m warning y’all, I can’t wait much longer. I’m starving.”
Seeing that Jamie was still occupied with the children, Trevor turned his attention to the baby girl lying in an elaborate stroller next to the picnic table and looking around with wide eyes. “How’s Claire?” he asked, lightly stroking her downy hair.
“Growing like a pretty weed,” Wade reported proudly. “Won’t be long before she’s running around playing with the rest of the kids.”
“I can’t wait to see our newest family member,” Emily murmured. “I’m looking forward to going to Atlanta this weekend to visit Tara and Blake and the baby.”
“I’m still having trouble picturing Blake as a father.”
Emily giggled. “You know Blake will be great—even if he isn’t exactly…well, average.”
“So, are we just going to stand here and gab, or are we going to eat?” Wade asked, eyeing the food containers with growing impatience.
His wife sighed and shook her head. “Honestly, Wade. Anyone would think you haven’t eaten in days.”
“It’s been hours. I’m hungry,” he said plaintively.
“So am I,” Trevor agreed.
Clay had joined them just in time to pipe in, “I’m hungry, too.”
“Then I suppose we’d better eat,” Emily said matter-of-factly.
A few chaotic minutes later, they were all gathered around well-filled plates of food. Wade, Emily and Clay sat on one side of the table. Sam had scrambled between Trevor and Jamie on the other side. Holding Abbie on his knee, Trevor managed through experience to feed himself and his daughter at the same time. Not that he was as hungry as he’d claimed to be. With Jamie sitting so close to him, it was hard to think of food.
Conversation during the meal was suitably casual, pretty well dominated by the children. He and Jamie put on what he thought was a creditable show of acting like mere acquaintances, though occasionally their gazes met and held f
or a few moments over Sam’s head. He wasn’t sure their ruse fooled Wade—not much escaped the sharp-eyed cop—but maybe they’d managed to keep Emily guessing.
He glanced across the table, saw his cousin’s smile, and knew he was only fooling himself.
“We’re going to the beach,” Clay announced loudly, drawing Trevor’s attention away from his own thoughts.
“The beach? That sounds great,” Jamie said encouragingly. “Where?”
“Alabama. My aunt—Dad’s sister—and her husband have a beach house there and we’re going to spend a whole week with them.”
Jamie looked at Wade with dramatically widened eyes. “The police chief’s going to be gone for a whole week? Whatever will we do? Honoria might be hit with a crime wave.”
“I’ve told my deputies to keep an eye on you,” Wade drawled without missing a beat, making Emily, Trevor and Clay chuckle and Jamie wrinkle her nose at him.
“I’m through eating, can I go play?” Sam asked.
Trevor glanced at his son’s plate, decided he’d eaten enough, and nodded. “Stay close.”
“Want to throw my Frisbee with me, Jamie?” Sam offered.
“Jamie hasn’t finished eating,” Trevor murmured.
But Jamie had already set her plastic fork down. “I’ve had plenty. I would love to play Frisbee with you, Sammy.”