“Good night, Jamie,” he said, patting her arm in a fatherly manner. “You come back and see us sometime, you hear?”
“I would be delighted. Thank you.”
“Trevor, walk Jamie to her car. I’ll take Abbie.” Bobbie reached for the child, assuming without waiting for confirmation that her instructions would be followed—as they usually were.
“I’ll go, too,” Sam said, starting forward.
His grandmother caught him by the shoulder. “No, sweetheart, you stay here with me and Grandpa. Say good-night to Ms. Flaherty now, and you’ll see her again another time.”
Pouting a little, Sam gazed up at Jamie. “Good night, Ms. Flaherty,” he said, holding out his right hand as he’d seen the others do.
She shook his hand. “Good night, Sam. I’ll see you around, okay?”
“I hope so,” he answered wistfully.
Trevor motioned toward the doorway. “After you, Ms. Flaherty,” he said with dry courtesy.
She gave him a cheeky grin. “Why, thank you, Mr. McBride. Good night again, everyone.”
She happened to glance at Bobbie as she accompanied Trevor out of the room. The look on the older woman’s face gave her pause for a moment. Just what was this, anyway? A gratitude dinner—or a fix-up?
Had Bobbie decided that Trevor had been in mourning long enough? And, if so, what on earth made Bobbie think she was a suitable match for a conservative lawyer with two small children?
“Mother’s not particularly subtle,” Trevor murmured as he and Jamie stepped into the still-warm evening air.
To avoid his eyes, she concentrated on admiring the stars spread so brightly above them, on the music of the night creatures singing in the woods surrounding the rural house, on the earth smells of early summer. As much as she’d enjoyed New York, she hadn’t lost her appreciation for Georgia in June. “Your mother is very nice,” she said, her tone deliberately absent.
“Yes, but she can be rather heavy-handed when she gets one of her nutty notions.”
Deciding not to dance around the subject any longer, she turned to lean back against her car and study his face in the shadows. “And just what ‘nutty notion’ are you referring to, Trev?”
“My name,” he reminded her, “is Trevor.”
“Yes, I know. You were saying?”
“Surely you were aware that Mother’s been nudging us toward each other all evening.”
Jamie shrugged. “Since we were the only singles here this evening, it was only natural for her to encourage us to visit, I suppose.”
“Maybe. But just in case she has something more in mind, I hope she doesn’t cause you any embarrassment.”
Chuckling, she ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t embarrass easily.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Sometimes Jamie just couldn’t help herself. She reached out to stroke a fingertip along Trevor’s firm, chiseled jaw. “How about you, Trev? Do you embarrass easily?”
She saw his eyes narrow in the yellow light coming from the overhead security pole. “Not usually,” he drawled.
“Oh?” Still driven by her own personal imp, she walked her fingers up his chest until both her hands were resting on his shoulders. “Just what does it take to make you blush?”
He might have worn a very faint smile when he replied, “I haven’t blushed since high school.”
She fussed with his shirt collar, letting her fingers dip inside to lightly stroke his neck. “What was the cause then?”
“I believe it was a suggestion you made to me behind the gym.”
She laughed at his dry tone. “And did you take me up on it?”