Married By Mistake!

Elissa stood. “Well, excuse me. I’m insane for suggesting she stalked you. After all, stalking is when somebody follows you around and hides in your grounds. My mistake.”

“Okay, okay. But she’s safely back in France now,” he said. “Getting treatment.”

Elissa smiled playfully. “What was it she couldn’t resist about you, Jack dear? Your gin game?”

Lucy’s cheeks grew hot. “I was kidding when I said that, Elissa. I’m sure Jack is well aware of sexual—stuff.”

Elissa laughed. “Lucy, Jack knew stuff even before his mother married Dad and they moved in with us.” She gave him a superior smirk. “I should know because my room was right below his. I saw his girlfriends climbing up the trellis to his room.”

Jack’s expression grew sheepish, captivatingly so. “Hell. You knew?”

“No!” Lucy cried. “I don’t believe it. I never saw any girls. And I ran in and jumped right into Jack’s bed during thunderstorms.”

“During thunderstorms the windows were closed,” Elissa reminded her with a laugh.

The fire popped and hissed, and Jack turned away to took into the flames. Lucy had a feeling he was embarrassed about this discussion of his wild youth.

“On those infrequent nights when his window was closed, it kept out the rain and half the pubescent females in Kansas City.” Elissa crossed her arms before her, eyeing Lucy as though she were a touch feeble-witted. “And you said he didn’t know where babies came from. Just another example that you’re not a good judge of men.”

The remark was like a punch in her heart, and Lucy grimaced.

Suddenly, Elissa was standing before her, holding her face. “Gosh, I’m sorry. That wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—I was trying to be funny.” She let out a disgusted breath and eyed the ceiling. “I’m just so furious at Stadler. That’s all. Can you forgive me?”

Lucy swallowed to ease the lump of emotion that had formed in her throat, then nodded. “Sure—sure...”

“Hey.” Elissa inhaled, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “How about some tea? Since you won’t let us celebrate your birthday until Helen and the twins are home, we might as well have a cup of English Apple to commemorate year number twenty-six. What do you say?”

Lucy nodded. “Sounds good.” She managed to smile and even make direct eye contact with her sister, who looked so upset by her slip of the tongue that Lucy couldn’t be angry with her.

“Want some help?” Jack asked.

“No.” Elissa faced him, thumping her fists on her hips. “Cardsharps must clean up the mess.”

“I presume that’s straight out of ‘Elissa’s Gin Rule Book for Sleazoids Who Beat Her’?”

“Chapter one.” She lifted her chin in haughty affront. “Sleazoid.”

After Elissa. left the room, Lucy discovered that Jack was silently watching her. He bent one knee, curling an arm around it. “Would you like to play with me?”

She felt a strange tremor along her spine and shook it off. Helen’s prediction that afternoon had left its lingering effect, and Jack’s innocent question seemed erotic. Shaking her head, she sat farther back in the fluffy couch, clutching the pillow she’d been toying with to her breasts. “Oh—no, I’m not very good at gin.”

“Neither is Elissa.” His grin was so appealing she found herself smiling back. “You tell her I said that and you’re toast.”

She nodded. “I know.”

They watched each other for another minute before Jack tilted his head in a way that told her he was there to listen if she wanted to talk. It was bizarre how he could communicate so much without a word. No doubt it was because she knew him so well.

She shook her head. “I don’t think you can help me with this, Jack.”

“I could try.”

Uncomfortable under his close scrutiny, she cleared her throat. “Just be my friend. Okay?”

Pursing his lips, he nodded. “Right.”

He began to pick up the cards and she scanned him as he moved. Watched the energy of his actions, his economy of motion. The clothes he wore were simple, but rich. His beige trousers emphasized hard thighs and taut hips. His shirt was an emerald green knit, and as he moved, muscle rippled, making a tantalizing show of shoulders and arms. She lounged her head back, casually gazing, almost feasting. It was surprising how the simple act of gathering a few cast-off playing cards could be such eye candy.

His knuckle scraped against her ankle as he retrieved the last fallen card, and she yelped, not aware that she’d slipped into a daydream.

“Sorry.” He came up beside her and sat on the couch to shuffle the cards. The broken one flipped out of the pack and landed in her lap. She gasped and flinched. “Aren’t we a little jumpy tonight?” As he picked up the playing card, his fingers grazed her inner thigh through her trousers. Her body registered his brief touch with a queer tingling. “You seem nervous, Luce.”

Restive, she tossed aside the pillow she’d been clutching, then thought better of it, squeezing it against her breasts as some sort of blue damask barrier. “No—no, I’m not nervous,” she lied, then wondered why in the world she was. She and Jack were about as close as any man and woman could be who weren’t really brother and sister. She avoided his scrutinizing gaze, focusing on his chin, deeply cleft and tan. Casting around for a safe topic, she asked, “Why are you in town, Jack?”

“I thought Elissa told you. I’m thinking of opening my fifth Gallagher’s Bistro here in Branson.” She met his eyes, not realizing she’d done so until his half-mast glance was sparkling into hers. “I figured what’s good enough for New York City, Chicago, L.A. and London is good enough for the Crosby girls.”

She smiled against her will. Suddenly shy, she scanned her lap to avoid his intense eyes. “Speaking on behalf of all the Crosby girls—I thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” His hard thigh brushed hers as he relaxed back. “Nice fire.”

“Bragging?” She was surprised to find herself ribbing him for a change.

He chuckled. “I’m almost as good at fire building as I am at playing gin.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Sort of a Jack-of-all-trades.”

She groaned. “That pun never gets any better.”

He shrugged and she felt it. He was sitting very close. Which was fine. She had nothing to fear from him. Just because Helen said she and Jack were going to be married didn’t mean Jack had amorous intentions toward her. And that was absolutely for the best, since the last thing on her mind was romance.

“Tired?”

“No.” She shook her head, leaning against his shoulder. It was true. She wasn’t tired, just downhearted, lost, emotionally adrift. Sleep seemed like the best escape, and her body was willing to oblige.

“Elissa’s fixing your birthday tea.”

“I’m awake.”

He shifted to put his arm around her. “Sure you are, Luce.”

She didn’t know how long she napped in Jack’s embrace before the doorbell woke her.

“I’ll get it,” Elissa said.

“Just in time,” Jack murmured against her hair. “You didn’t fall asleep, did you?”

“No...um—no—I’m wide...” She pushed away from him, her denial thick and slurred. When she straightened and looked around, she noticed a silver tea tray sitting on the coffee table.

He laughed softly. “You’re not that wide.”

She peered at him, fuzzy-headed. “What?”