Ethan over, and she simply pitched forward, ill and babbling, at his
feet.
That would be seductive.
She should never have agreed to this foolishness, she told herself as
she paced through her little house yet again. Anna had thought so
quickly, made up her mind so fast and put everything in motion so
smoothly, that she'd been swept along before she could calculate the
pitfalls.
What in the world would she say to him if he came? Which he probably
wouldn't, she thought, caught between relief and despair. He probably
wouldn't even come and then she'd have sent her baby away for the night
for nothing.
It was too quiet. There was nothing but the early-evening breeze
rustling through the trees for company. If Aubrey had been there--where
she belonged--they'd have been reading her bedtime story now. She would
have been all scrubbed and powdered and curled up under Grace's arm in
the rocker. Snuggly and sleepy.
When she heard her own sigh, Grace pressed her lips tightly together and
marched to the small stereo system on the yellow pine shelves in the
living room. She selected CDs from her collection--an indulgence that
she refused to feel guilty over--and let the house fill with the weeping
and romantic notes of Mozart.
She walked to the window to watch the sun drop lower in the sky. The
light was going soft, slipping away shade by shade. In the ornamental
plum that graced the Cutters' front yard a lone whippoorwill began to
sing to the twilight. She wished she could laugh at herself, silly Grace
Monroe standing by the window in her pink dress waiting for a star to
wish on.
But she lowered her forehead to the glass, closed her eyes, and reminded
herself that she was too old for wishes.
anna thought she would have done very well in the espionage game. She
had kept her plans locked tight behind closed lips--no matter how
desperately she'd wanted to spill out everything to Cam.
She had to remind herself that he was, after all, a man. And he was
Ethan's brother, which was another strike against him. This was a woman
thing. She thought she was very subtle about keeping her eye on Ethan as
well. He wasn't going to escape somewhere directly after dinner, as was
his habit, nor would he have a clue that his sister-in-law was keeping
him on a short rein.
The ice cream idea had been a brainstorm. She'd picked up a gallon on
the way home and now had all three of her men, as she liked to think of
them, settled on the back porch downing bowls of Rocky Road.
Timing and execution, she told herself, and rubbed her hands together
before she stepped out on the porch. "It's going to be a warm night.
It's hard to believe it's nearly July already."
She wandered to the porch rail to lean over and scan her flower beds.
Coming right along, she thought with a sense of righteous satisfaction.
"I thought we could have a backyard picnic on the Fourth."
"They have fireworks on the waterfront," Ethan put in. "Every year, half
hour after sunset. You can see them from right here on the porch."