He wrinkled his nose at her. “You like everyone who’s single and female.”
“That’s not true. I didn’t care for that brassy redhead you were seeing for a while.”
“She wasn’t brassy. I think the word busty is more, er, amply descriptive of her.”
Myrtle lightly slapped his hand. “You are so bad. Now go out there and charm that pretty young lady before she comes to her senses about you and takes to her heels.”
“I’m so touched by your confidence in me.” He leaned over to kiss her soft cheek on his way out the door.
As he climbed into his car, he thought about his grandmother’s words. “That pretty young woman.” Granted, Cecilia was a pretty young woman, but not quite as young as the women Myrtle had been practically throwing at him for the past few years. Because Cecilia looked younger than she was, Myrtle might not be aware that Cecilia was actually five years older than he.
Not that Myrtle was hung up about such things. It was just that she was so obsessed with seeing a new generation of Binghams in Merlyn County. Of course, she didn’t realize that Geoff was already working on that part.
“I like your grandmother.”
Rousing himself from his reverie, Geoff smiled at Cecilia. “So do I.”
“She’s so energetic. So clever and funny. So…so inspirational.”
“She likes you, too.”
“You have a nice family, Geoff. Our baby will be very lucky to be a Bingham. I just hope…”
“What do you hope?”
“I hope your family won’t think less of me—or the baby—because we’re going about this…well, the way we are.”
His first instinct was to instantly and heatedly deny any such thing. But something held him back. Surely it couldn’t be fear that she was right?
His family wasn’t like that. Hell, all his paternal cousins had been born out of wedlock. His child would be…just another illegitimate Bingham.
He drove into Cecilia’s driveway, parked in front of her door, then sat staring blindly out the windshield until she cleared her throat to get his attention. “Aren’t we going in?”
“Going in?”
She snapped her fingers. “Earth to Geoff. Are you in there? This is where I live.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” He looked at her front door and suddenly shook his head. “Listen, Cecilia, would you mind if I don’t come in tonight? I hate to admit this, but I’m so sore I can hardly move. I think I’ll go home and soak in the whirlpool for a while.”
“No, of course I don’t mind.” She sounded more concerned than disappointed. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? Is there anything I can do for you?”
Feeling just a bit guilty for the prevarication—though God knew he was pretty darned sore—he shook his head. “I can handle it. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“All right. If you’re sure you’ll be okay.”
“Positive.” He reached for his door handle. “Let me walk you to your door.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She laid a hand on his arm to hold him in his seat. “I’m perfectly capable of walking myself inside. You just go take care of those aches and pains.”
He ignored the aches and pains long enough to lean over and give her a slow, thorough kiss. “Good night, Cecilia.”
Her soft smile let him know how much she had enjoyed the embrace. “Good night, Geoff. I hope you feel better tomorrow.”
So did he, he thought as she closed the car door behind her. Because he was feeling pretty lousy right now—and it had very little to do with the motorcycle accident.
He watched her walk to her door, her steps so brisk and confident. So clearly not in need of anyone’s escort.
He really needed some time alone to think. Because he seemed to have gotten himself into a situation here that was more potentially life changing than he could ever have imagined.