Seductively Yours

“Jamie, he almost let my son drown!”

“He made a mistake. A huge one, I’ll admit, but I think he deserves a second chance. Do you expect me to believe that you have never in your life made a mistake, Trevor McBride?”

“No.” His voice was grim. “I don’t expect you to believe that.”

“Give the boy another chance. Have him reprimanded, if you like—or do it yourself—but don’t make him lose his job.”

Even when they’d been young, even when Trevor had known Jamie would only bring him trouble, she’d always been able to sway him. He sighed. “All right. I won’t have him fired. But I hope you’re right that he’ll do a better job in the future. Lives literally depend on it.”

“I know. And I wouldn’t risk them recklessly,” she assured him.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He watched as she shifted on the couch, folding her long, bare legs into a more comfortable position. Her baggy shorts gapped at the tops of her legs, revealing intriguing glimpses of smooth thighs. His reaction to those glimpses made him scowl and abruptly raise his gaze to her face again. “I heard you’d moved back here,” he said. “I have to admit I was surprised.”

“I came back in March,” she acknowledged. “My aunt, who still teaches at the elementary school, called me about the opening for a drama teacher at the high school for the remainder of the second semester. The former teacher hadn’t planned to leave for a couple of years, but when her husband was diagnosed with cancer, she retired to take care of him. They needed someone on very short notice, and I just happened to be available.”

“I didn’t even know you had teaching credentials.”

“My college degree was in secondary education with a theater minor. I’ve always believed in having a back-up plan, and teaching was mine. I worked as a sub in New York schools between acting gigs. This job’s a piece of cake compared to that experience.”

“I can imagine. So, are you staying on now that the school year’s finished, or are you headed back to Broadway?”

“I spent much more time off-Broadway and off-off-Broadway,” she corrected him with a wrinkle of her short nose. “I was ready for a change. I’ve signed on for another year at Honoria High. The kids want to put on a production of Grease in the spring, and I promised to help them.”

“Sounds like a big job.”

“It should take most of the school year to put it together. We’re going to do a smaller production in December—A Christmas Carol, maybe, or The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. I’ll also be teaching speech classes.”

“So you’re giving up acting?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just taking a break for a couple of years.”

Trevor knew what a two-year “break” could do to an acting career—especially for a woman nearing thirty. There was more to Jamie’s story than she had told him—not that it was any of his business, of course. But he wondered how long she would be content to live in Honoria after her years in New York.

He wondered how many people were speculating about him in much the same way.

Glancing again at his watch, he stood. “I have to get back to the kids. Thanks again, Jamie. If you ever need anything…I owe you one.”

Her mouth tilted into a funny smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She pushed herself slowly off the couch and walked him to the door. “It’s good to see you again, Trev.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” Which was, he decided, the truth in a strange sort of way. “Good night, Jamie.”

Her arm brushed his when she reached unexpectedly around him to open the door. His reaction to the casual touch seemed out of proportion—which only illustrated how stressful his day had been, he mused. It had left him completely rattled. He made his exit while he could still do so with something approaching dignity.

JAMIE WAITED until Trevor had closed the door behind him before she sagged bonelessly onto the couch. Oh, wow, she thought dazedly. The guy had been gorgeous in high school. He was even more so now that he had a few years of maturity on him.

He still seemed as skittish and elusive with her as he had ever been. And he still looked at her in a way that made her heart pound in her throat. It gave her some comfort that she had managed to hide her reactions to him.

This time, she told herself, she would not let Trevor break her heart. If anything happened between them now—and she still wasn’t ruling that out—it would be on her terms.

AS WITH MOST small Southern towns, shopping at the local discount superstore in Honoria was a major social event. Sooner or later, everyone ended up there. It was almost impossible to stop in even to grab a couple of items without running into someone you knew. There were several women who wouldn’t dare go shopping for toilet paper without doing their hair and makeup.

Dressed in a striped tank top, khaki shorts and heavy leather sandals, Jamie ran a hand through her short hair and applied a light coating of lip gloss, the full extent of her primping before she entered the store Friday afternoon. She bumped into three people before she could even claim a shopping cart. All of them wanted to talk about what had happened at the swimming pool earlier in the week.

She was exasperated, but not particularly surprised, to learn that the incident had become rather exaggerated in the frequent retelling—particularly her part in it.

“Risking your own life to save that boy,” silver-haired Mildred Scott said in breathless admiration. “You should be given some sort of award for heroism, Jamie.”

Gripping the rickety cart she’d managed to snag, Jamie answered with strained patience. “My life was never at risk, Mrs. Scott. The water wasn’t all that deep. All I did was lift the boy out.”

Clearly preferring the more interesting version she’d heard, Mrs. Scott smiled knowingly and patted Jamie’s arm. “You’re being modest. That’s very becoming of you, but I still think I’ll ask Chief Davenport about that award. Or maybe the mayor.”

“Mrs. Scott, I would really rather you didn’t—”

Without waiting to be dissuaded, the older woman bustled away, as if to act while the idea was still fresh. Jamie sighed, shook her head in resignation and pushed her cart toward the health-and-beauty aids section of the store. A trio of teenagers emerged from the cosmetics aisle, their hands filled with rainbow-colored nail polishes, eye shadows and lip glosses. “Hi, Ms. Flaherty,” they chimed in unison, instantly adopting the tone every kid seems to use around a schoolteacher.

Though she knew she didn’t particularly look like a teacher at the moment, Jamie found herself automatically answering in her own “schoolmarm” voice. “Hello, girls. Enjoying your vacation so far?”

They all nodded eagerly, then hurried away, giggling and whispering. Feeling suddenly years older, Jamie tossed a box of facial tissues into her cart. Funny how age was relative, she mused as she moved toward the toothpaste section. To old Mrs. Scott, Jamie was still just a girl. But to the teenagers, her twenty-nine years must seem almost ancient.

Discount philosophy, she thought with a wry smile. How appropriate for her current surroundings. She added dental floss to her cart and headed for cleaning supplies.

The store was a noisy place. Frequent announcements sounded over the intercom, dozens of conversations swirled around her, mothers scolded whining children and several babies cried in shrill stereo. Jamie often enjoyed spending time just people-watching in places like this, but today she had quite a few other things she wanted to get done. She grabbed a spray bottle of glass cleaner from a shelf and tossed it on top of her other selections.

Two more items on her list, and she could escape.

A sudden tug at the hem of her shorts made her glance downward. She raised her eyebrows in surprise when she recognized the little blond boy gazing somberly up at her. “Well, hello, Sam.”

“Hello,” he replied without returning her smile. He kept his big blue eyes trained unwaveringly on her face.

“Are you here with your dad?” Jamie looked around for Trevor before turning her gaze back to Sam.

The boy shook his head. “I’m with Grandma.”

“Where is she?”

“Over there.” Sam pointed vaguely to one side.

“Does she know where you are?”

The boy shrugged, obviously unconcerned.

Funny child, Jamie thought, studying his serious little face. She assumed he laughed occasionally, but she had yet to hear it. He gazed up at her as if waiting for her to do or say something interesting, making her feel oddly self-conscious. “Um…so how are you, Sam?”

“Good,” he answered, then fell silent again, still looking expectantly up at her.

She was thinking about bursting into a song-and-tap-dance number—just to keep from disappointing him—when Bobbie McBride’s familiar voice came from behind her. “There you are, Sam! Why did you run off from me like…Oh, hello, Jamie.”

Feeling much the way the teenagers who’d greeted her earlier had probably felt, Jamie responded politely to her former teacher. “Hello, Mrs. McBride.”