Husband for a Weekend Page 8

  He chuckled. “I can see why you would, but it was merely an observation.”

  “I’ll let you decide for yourself who the rest of the family resembles.” Kim hoisted Daryn onto her hip. “And, by the way, I won’t be in the least disappointed if you decide you need to escape early. Just give me a sign and we’ll be out of there.”

  Considering the way things had gone thus far this weekend, he figured Kim would be more likely than he to bolt from the reunion. Frankly, he found her family dynamics very interesting. They explained a lot about her. He supposed the same would be true in reverse if she were to observe his family as an objective insider for a weekend.

  He was tempted to advise her not to let her mother push her buttons so easily. Just to laugh it all off, as she seemed to have done in the past. But maybe that was easier done from a distance rather than in person—and frankly, it was none of his business, anyway. Probably if he’d been put through the chaos Betsy had inflicted on Kim, he wouldn’t be able to shrug it off so easily, either.

  Daryn gave her toy monkey a vigorous pump, making the bells inside it chime merrily. She made a face of dismay when the toy flew from her hand, landing on the floor with a clanging thump.

  “I’ve got it,” Tate said when Kim automatically started to bend to retrieve it. He leaned over to scoop up the toy and offer it to Daryn. “Here’s your Mr. Jingles, kiddo.”

  Accepting the toy, she gazed at him with such intensity that he couldn’t help feeling a little self-conscious. He saw a strong look of her mother in her eyes. Both of them had a way of studying him sometimes that made him wonder if his hair was untidy or if there was a smudge on his nose.

  Daryn broke into a sudden wide, slightly damp grin that displayed both her tiny white teeth. He smiled automatically in return. The kid had that in common with her mother, too. Tate couldn’t help but respond to their smiles.

  Suddenly aware that he was standing very close to Kim, he glanced at her. Their gazes met, and he found himself unable to be the first to look away. Those whiskey eyes were most definitely intoxicating.

  He almost winced as that sappy analogy wafted through his thoughts. Wouldn’t Evan mock him if he’d heard it?

  Daryn waved her toy again; simultaneous jingling and babbling roused Tate from his momentary daze. He dragged his gaze from Kim’s and glanced at his watch. “Your family is probably waiting for us to rejoin them. It’s almost time to leave for your grandmother’s house.”

  Kim’s cheeks looked a bit rosier than usual. Was it a result of the baby’s energetic bouncing in her arms or was she actually blushing a little? Intrigued by the latter possibility, he followed her from the room, noting as he did so that her figure looked very nice in the casual summery outfit that had elicited such disapproval from her mother.

  * * *

  Kim and Tate took her car to the reunion, Tate behind the wheel again as he followed Bob and Betsy in their car. Kim twisted her fingers in her lap during the twenty-minute ride, so tightly her knuckles whitened and ached. She wasn’t aware of quite how tightly she held them until Tate reached over to briefly pat her clenched fists with his right hand before returning his hand to the steering wheel.

  “Relax,” he said, glancing away from the road ahead for a moment to smile at her. “It will be fine.”

  Telling herself she was being foolish, she made a deliberate effort to loosen her muscles. Feeling the cold gold band on her left ring finger did not help her to relax about the upcoming ordeal. “You know, there was a time when I would have had a ball with this.”

  She was hardly aware she’d mused aloud until Tate asked encouragingly, “With what?”

  “This whole charade.” She held up her left hand to display the ring. “I’d have seen it as a big joke, a dare I had to win with panache. I was always in on the big practical jokes in high school and college, even while I trained for my career. One of the things that drew me to Chris was that he was always up for a challenge, never really serious about anything. Back then, if anyone had bet me I couldn’t pull the wool over my obnoxious family’s eyes, I’d have thrown myself into the part with such enthusiasm, I’d have practically convinced myself I was happily married. We’re talking Betsy Shaw levels of deception.”

  Though he kept his attention outwardly centered on his driving, Tate was obviously listening closely. “What happened?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Daryn happened.”

  “Ah.”

  “She might have been the result of my previously reckless behavior, but once I realized she was on her way, I vowed that she wouldn’t have to pay for it. I wasn’t going to raise her in the confusion and uncertainty my unreliable mother inflicted on us, letting her get attached to people who wouldn’t stay in her life, never knowing where we’d be living next.”

  Turning to face the front of the car again, she added, “I guess that’s one reason I’ve been so grouchy this weekend. I let myself be swept up in a prank again at the urging of my friends and I’ve regretted it ever since. Daryn doesn’t need to get attached to Bob or my brothers or my grandmother or even my mother, considering I can’t say for certain when or if I’ll see any of them again.”

  She could have put Tate into that category, as well, but it wasn’t as much of an issue with him, since he was carefully keeping his distance from Daryn. Kim was the only one in danger of becoming too attached to Tate; but at least she was old enough to keep reminding herself how futile that would be.

  Mimicking Bob ahead, Tate activated the left turn signal and braked for a red light. “I haven’t noticed you being particularly grouchy. I’ve got to agree that your mom would try anyone’s patience. As far as Daryn, she’s too young to remember any of this, anyway. But is it really such a bad thing for her to meet new people, even if it’s only fleetingly? For that matter, you never really know when you’ll see anyone again. You just have to enjoy the time you spend with them when you can.”

  She shrugged lightly, wondering why she’d even started this conversation. “I guess you’re right. It’s just a hard lesson to learn as a child.”

  And one that left lingering scars, she added silently. Scars she never wanted to inflict on her daughter—and never wanted to add to her own barely healed collection.

  Parking behind Bob at the curb of an older brick house at which several other cars already filled the driveway and lined the street, Tate killed the engine and turned to face her before releasing his seat belt. “I think we should make a pact today.”

  “What kind of pact?”

  Taking her by surprise, he reached out to trace her bottom lip with one fingertip. “You let out that old Kim—the daring, mischievous one—just for today. Throw yourself into this silly bet as if it were for a million dollars. Keep your mother so confused even she doesn’t know any longer what’s true and what’s fabricated. Have a great time, collect a dozen stories to tell our friends during lunches for the next six months, let Daryn be pampered and coddled all afternoon. Have fun, Kim. Just because you’re a mom doesn’t mean you can’t still let loose and have a good time occasionally—even at a wacky family reunion.”

  Her mouth tingling from that brief, light contact, she swallowed. “Um—”

  “Besides,” he reminded her with a smile so roguish and sexy it made her lungs stutter, “we have a side bet, remember? I’ve got to pay you fifty dollars if you pull this off.”

  She cleared her throat. “You’re going to regret making that bet when I take your fifty.”

  Looking pleased with her response, he chuckled. “Evan bet me a hundred, remember? I’m still going to come out fifty ahead. Unless, of course, you screw up, and then I’ve got a hundred from him and fifty from you. I might just treat myself to the Emperor’s Platter next Wednesday.”

  The Emperor’s Platter was the most expensive item on the menu
of the Chinese restaurant where they met each week, and a running joke among the five friends who all lived on budgets while establishing their careers. Deciding she didn’t want Tate reporting back to their friends that she’d been a stick-in-the-mud—or worse, a failure at holding up her end of the plot they had all conceived—Kim raised her chin. “I might just order the same thing—on your fifty.”

  “Bring it, cupcake,” he taunted.

  She laughed. “You’re on, pretty boy.”

  They might have sat there teasing—okay, flirting—for several minutes longer had they not been summoned impatiently by Kim’s mother tapping on the hood of the car.

  “Are you two coming in?” she called through the glass, her hands filled with one of the dishes she’d brought for lunch—and that Kim suspected Bob had been primarily responsible for preparing.

  Kim reached for her door handle. “I’ll get the baby. Would you bring the diaper bag, please, honey?”

  Laughing again in response to the open challenge in her tone, Tate opened his door. “Yes, dear.”

  Betsy insisted on preceding Kim and Tate into Grandma Dyess’s house, so that she could “announce them,” she explained.

  “Mom, we don’t need to be announced. We’re not exactly royalty.”

  Her mother merely laughed and crowded in front of them at the door. “I just want to let everyone know you’re here.”

  “Emperor’s Platter,” Tate murmured humorously in Kim’s ear.

  She gave him a look, but took the hint to let her mother’s dramatics pass without further argument.

  Keeping Bob at her side, her mother reached out to ring the doorbell. Kim drew a breath, gave her daughter a little hug, then glanced at Tate.

  “I should probably apologize in advance,” she whispered when he tilted his head toward her.

  He chuckled and startled her by brushing a kiss against her cheek. “Not necessary,” he murmured.

  Daryn reached out with the hand not holding Mr. Jingles and patted Tate’s cheek. And it was in that position—his mouth near Kim’s cheek, Daryn’s hand on his face—that Kim’s aunt Treva first saw them when she opened the door. If they had been trying deliberately to pose as a happy little family at that moment, they couldn’t have done a better job.

  Or maybe that was exactly what Tate had intended.

  Her mother beamed at them in approval. “Treva, I’m so glad to finally introduce you to my dear son-in-law, Tate Price, and my sweet little granddaughter, Daryn. Kim, honey, say hello to your aunt,” she added as if Kim were still a child.

  Feeling Tate give her waist an encouraging squeeze with the arm he’d wrapped loosely around her, Kim forced a smile. “Hello, Aunt Treva. It’s nice to see you again.”

  A near-duplicate of her one-year-older sister, Treva also wore her hair fluffed and curled and bleached. She was a few pounds heavier than Betsy, but dressed in much the same manner—a thin, short-sleeve, animal print summer jacket over a tan scoop neck tank and fashionably cropped pants with sequined flip-flops displaying a bright pink pedicure. Betsy’s jacket and capri set was decorated with a field of poppies on a pale yellow background, and her tank top had sparkly studs around the neckline, but other than that, they were almost identical down to the glittering flip-flops and colorful toenails.

  Both sisters could have stepped out of a television sitcom set in stereotypical suburbia, Kim thought wryly as she was ushered into the house. It was always interesting to see what personas her mercurial mother and aunt had adopted since she’d last seen them.

  “You look very nice, Kim,” Treva pronounced, looking her up and down. “I see you’ve lost most of your pregnancy weight. Good for you, I’m sure you’ll get the rest of it off soon.”

  Hearing Tate make a little sound that sounded like a swallowed groan, Kim chose to ignore her aunt’s comment. She had worked hard to regain her healthy prepregnancy weight, and she’d succeeded, so the implied criticism didn’t bother her.

  Unfazed by Kim’s lack of reaction, Treva turned to Tate. “So, you’re Tate. Betsy called you Trey the very few times she’s mentioned you in the past, but she told me on the phone last night that you’re dropping your childhood nickname in favor of your real name.”

  It amazed Kim—not necessarily in a good way—that her mother could always come up with a reasonable explanation for her inconsistencies.

  Tate went along again. “That’s right. It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs.—um?”

  “Just call me Treva,” she said somewhat gruffly. “I’m not Mrs. anybody at the moment.”

  Betsy slipped her free hand beneath Bob’s elbow and smiled somewhat smugly. “Bob and I will take these dishes into the kitchen. Why don’t you take Tate and Kim in to join the others, Treva?”

  Judging by the noise level in the house, several entire families were crowded into the midsize rooms. Kim heard adults talking, children shrieking and chattering, a television blaring a baseball game. Just how many had shown up for this gathering?

  “Was your whole family able to come today, Aunt Treva?”

  Treva nodded in response to Kim’s question. “Patty’s here with the kids, and Cara Lynn arrived only a few minutes before you did. Come in and say hello. It’s been so long since you came to a family gathering that you probably won’t even recognize each other.”

  “I saw them all at the reception for Mom and Bob,” Kim reminded her.

  “That was three years ago, Kimmie,” her mom said over her shoulder as she and Bob moved toward the kitchen. “Bob and I are hardly newlyweds anymore.”

  “Zing,” Tate murmured into Kim’s ear.

  She laughed softly, settling Daryn more comfortably on her hip while following her aunt toward the noisy family room. At least she could count on Tate to keep her smiling during the next few hours. And they really would have some funny stories to share with their friends at lunch next Wednesday.

  Her first impression was that her grandmother’s den was filled with children. After a moment, she realized there were only three, all dashing around the room and making enough noise for at least twice the number. Kim identified her cousin Patty’s girls, Abby and Harper—who were probably around six and four now. And the tow-haired toddler chasing after them must be her cousin Mike’s son, Lucas. Mike’s wife, Ashley, had been pregnant at the reception where Kim had last seen her, so that would make Lucas about three.

  Seeing the children, Daryn kicked and crowed, eager to play with them, though she couldn’t yet join in the running.

  Drawing her attention from the children, Kim saw that Treva’s daughters, Patty and Cara Lynn, had zeroed in on Tate, eyeing the newcomer assessingly. Patty was divorced from her daughters’ father, and Cara Lynn had recently ended a long-time engagement. For some reason, Patty and Cara Lynn had always been competitive with Kim, even though she’d tried to stay out of the contest.

  She blamed her aunt and her mother—Treva and Betsy had projected their lifelong rivalry onto their daughters. In Kim’s case, it hadn’t really worked. Maybe it was because she was the oldest of the three—though only four months older than Patty—or maybe because she had spent her whole life trying not to be like her mother. Whatever the reason, she had never cared who was the most popular or who had the nicest clothes or cutest boyfriends. Her very lack of caring had seemed to annoy her cousins more than if she’d taken the competition seriously.

  Despite the undertones, Kim had always gotten along well enough with Patty and Cara Lynn, for the most part. She greeted them with a smile and with air kisses, automatically noting the little changes that had taken place since she’d last seen them. They both cooed over Daryn, and Kim marveled at how much Abby and Harper had grown.

  “I wish you’d friend us on the internet so we could at least keep up through pictures of the kids,” Patty compla
ined. “It makes it so much easier to stay in touch when we can read each other’s status updates.”

  Kim smiled vaguely, promising to consider opening an account. Thus far, she had deliberately avoided social media, mostly because of her family. She thought again of how easily her mother’s lies could have come unraveled if Kim had decided to friend her cousins. Her profile would have revealed her as a single mom, and Betsy’s fabrications would have been exposed. Maybe it would have been best if she had opened her life to that extent.

  While the sisters vied to flirt with Tate, Kim waved to her brothers, who sat on a couch across the room in front of the ball game, then turned to greet the rest of her relatives.

  “Nice to see you again, Kim.”

  She lifted her cheek to receive a light kiss from her mother’s older brother. “It’s good to see you, too, Uncle Nelson. How have you been?”

  “Doing great, thanks.” He introduced her to his blonde, fortysomething companion, Sandi, who was obviously besotted with babies, since she immediately asked if she could hold Daryn. Daryn transferred happily enough into the arms of the smiling woman, accepting the admiring attention as her due.

  Her uncle, who had been divorced for years, always had a pretty, younger blonde at his side. Kim didn’t remember ever seeing him with the same one twice, but they always seemed nice enough. He had good, if predictable, taste in companions.

  Drawing Tate away from Patty and Cara Lynn, she led him to her uncle and his two sons, Rusty and Mike, both in their early thirties. Rusty had never married and was reported to be somewhat of a playboy. Mike was the father of the boisterous three-year-old now trying to climb the wooden window blinds.

  “Where’s Ashley, Mike?” she inquired, glancing around the room. “Is she in the kitchen with Grandma?”

  The awkward silence that fell between them gave her a clue to the answer. Mike cleared his throat. “Ashley didn’t accompany me this weekend.”

  So her mother’s gossip about the state of Mike’s marriage had been true. One never knew with Betsy. Kim regretted that her mother had been correct about this.