Burning Secrets. Elizabeth Sinclair
hadn’t become less reactive to it. He rubbed his palms together to remove the light sheen of perspiration that had broken out there.
“Pleasure meeting you…again, Ms. Ellis.” He dropped his head and his gaze inadvertently landed on her breasts. His groin stirred to life. Quickly, he glanced away, then checked out the activity in the yard. “Looks like everyone’s here.”
“We’ve just been waiting for you,” Honey said, eyeing him with a look that said, We were afraid you wouldn’t show.
“Then let the festivities begin.”
Honey laughed. “I hate to point this out, little brother, but the festivities are well underway already. It’s the food that’s been waiting. Rose will be relieved that her picnic lunch hasn’t been ruined. Excuse me, Karen.” Honey hurried toward the back door of the house.
Jesse grabbed a cold beer from the galvanized tub holding the iced drinks. Ignoring Karen, he strolled to the seclusion of a large oak tree at the side of the yard and sat in the dark circle of its shade. From there, he could watch his family playing games and interacting.
But he didn’t stay centered on them for long. Instead, he found his gaze drawn to Karen. Who was she, and what did she want? Why had Honey invited a stranger to join in a family event? From the corner of his eye, he caught Karen studying him. To his displeasure, she started to walk in his direction. Evidently, the woman didn’t know the meaning of I don’t want to talk to you.
She’d only gone a few steps when she raised her camera and snapped a picture of him.
“What’s that for?” he asked, when she got close enough.
“Posterity.” She sat beside him.
Her perfume wafted to him on a light breeze that picked up a few strands of her hair and then laid them on her cheek. He itched to brush them away, test the feel of her skin, but fisted his hand around the cold beer can and asked the question that had popped into his head the moment he recognized her. “Why are you here? Certainly not to snap pictures of a family you don’t even know.”
Karen stared off into the woods beyond the lawn. By the time she spoke again, he’d all but decided she wasn’t going to answer him.
“The pictures are for a coffee-table book I’m putting together. And I’m here because Honey asked me to stay so I could speak with you.” She turned to him, her face serious, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. “I was Paul Jackson’s girlfriend, and I have some questions to ask you about him.”
Girlfriend?
The word exploded inside Jesse’s head like a firecracker. How could she have been Paul’s girlfriend? Paul was married.
Chapter 3
How could this woman have been Paul’s girlfriend when he was already married? But before Jesse could ask, Honey and Emily had walked across the freshly mowed backyard and sat beside him and Karen beneath the old oak’s spreading limbs.
“Rose will be bringing out the food in a few minutes,” Honey announced, then turned to Jess. “Karen needs pictures of some of the sights around town. Em and I figured you could show them to her. Maybe take her up to the ice caves.” His matchmaking sisters’ smiles reflected a small degree of self-satisfaction and the bright glow of manipulation.
They both knew that the caves were miles from civilization, infrequently visited by anyone, even tourists, and the perfect place for two people who wanted to be alone. Problem was, being alone with a woman who pulled on his emotions like an expert violinist played a Stradivarius was the last thing he wanted.
Before either Karen or Jesse could comment on his sister’s suggestion, Rose called everyone to gather around and help themselves to a platter piled high with barbecued chicken, a bowl of potato salad and a rectangular pan of baked beans. The four of them rose and slowly made their way across the yard.
For the next hour, all conversation halted as everyone dug in. Jess had missed Rose’s cooking. Shortly after the main course had disappeared and the bowls and platter stood empty, Rose went back inside the house. Smiling, she re-emerged through the screen door carrying a scrumptious looking chocolate cake. She set it carefully on the picnic table and then picked up a serving knife.
“I don’t suppose anyone wants any of this.” Rose grinned at her twin granddaughters, who whooped and scampered to her side.
“Me do,” one of the girls demanded, tugging on Rose’s apron hem.
“Me some,” the other one chimed in.
Emily groaned and levered herself from the picnic table bench beside Karen. “I couldn’t wait until they could walk and talk, but I’m beginning to think temporary insanity drove me to wish for such things.” She sighed and helped Rose cut a small piece for each of the girls. “I’m glad they’ve at least gotten teeth and aren’t eating mush anymore. Now, if we could only conquer potty training.”
Laughter rippled over the group.
Rose patted her daughter-in-law’s hand. “All in good time. All in good time.”
“Hey, Jesse, have some cake. My mother makes the best chocolate cake you have ever put in your mouth.” Kat kissed Rose’s cheek and looked down at her with a cherishing grin.
Jesse glanced at mother and son. It was hard to believe they’d only just been reunited after being separated for most of Kat’s life. It certainly didn’t resemble the reunion that had taken place in this house when, at age nine and with a newly deceased mother, Jess had come here to live and had met his father and sisters for the first time.
Jesse forced a smile. “It’s a good thing someone in your family can cook, or you’d starve to death.” He looked pointedly at Emily.
“Now, that’s not true. Rose is not the only cook in the family.” Emily paused in the task of wiping chocolate frosting from her daughter’s face, then grinned up at her handsome husband. “Kat makes a really mean lasagna.” She looked at Honey, who gave her a thumbs-up, then at her brother. “And I’d appreciate it, Jesse Kingston, if you would find a topic of conversation other than my lousy cooking.”
“But you’re so cute when you’re defending yourself,” he teased back.
Karen glanced at Jesse. Verbal banter. Safe, no emotional commitment. No physical contact allowed.
She knew how that worked. She’d often seen Paul do it. If you sidetracked people long enough with inanities, they didn’t dig for the real answers. Jesse’s silence added one more missing piece to the puzzle that made up this man. She swept her mind clear of any need to finish this particular puzzle. She had no desire to get involved in any small way with another man who was unwilling to share himself.
The family crowded around the picnic table for dessert, and Karen noted that Jess positioned himself at the very end of the bench, away from the core of activity.
When one of Emily’s girls sidled up to him, he offered her some of his cake. Her sister, not to be done out of her share of Uncle Jesse’s dessert, quickly joined them.
He leaned back and studied them. “How do you tell them apart, Em?”
Karen stepped in. “It’s easy.” She turned to Emily. “May I enlighten your brother?”
Emily nodded. “Sure. Someone needs to tell him the secret. After all, they’re his nieces and he can’t go on forever calling them ‘Hey You.’”
“Cat has a brown mole on her right wrist.” Karen watched as Jesse checked it out, then smiled when he proved her right. “Casey doesn’t have one.”
“I Cat,” the little girl announced, holding up the wrong arm for proof of her identity in an attempt to relieve any doubt as to which identical twin was which. Everyone laughed.
It suddenly struck Karen how odd it was that a stranger had learned the secret of how to tell the difference