Prognosis: Romance. Gina Wilkins
Читать онлайн книгу.
“We just let each kid bat and run the bases. That keeps them entertained for a while.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Want to join us? You can play shortstop. Aunt Lois tends to get distracted and wander off during the game.”
He chuckled, but shook his head. “Thanks, but I’d better head back to Little Rock. I have to be at the hospital early in the morning.”
The entire family protested when he announced he was leaving. He shook hands with the men again, waved off another round of thanks for his rescue of young Kyle, accepted hugs and cheek kisses from the women—and was less surprised when they were offered this time, since he’d gotten a bit more familiar with their demonstrativeness.
Lois insisted on giving him a handful of homemade oatmeal raisin cookies wrapped in a paper napkin. She told him she intended to bring them out after the ball game, in case anyone could possibly still be hungry by then.
“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll enjoy these.”
“Good. I hope to see you again sometime,” she replied. Tugging at his arm to get him to bend closer to her, she whispered, “My niece is single, you know.”
He smothered a smile and evaded the comment by saying, “It was very nice to meet you, Lois.”
“Shannon, why don’t you walk James to his car?” Virginia suggested.
He supposed he should have insisted he didn’t need an escort, but he figured he’d be wasting his breath. Not to mention that he didn’t mind spending a little more time with Shannon, even if only to walk to his car.
Once again he couldn’t quite tell what she was thinking when she nodded in response to her mother’s hint and turned to walk with him. Maybe she was simply thinking along the same lines as he—that it would be useless to protest. Not particularly flattering, if that were true.
He let her walk a couple of steps ahead of him toward the parking lot. Her thin white cover-up fluttered when she walked, floating around her slender body to end at midthigh. He could just see the outline of her yellow bikini through the now-dry fabric. Her hair had dried into a mop of soft red curls that looked temptingly touchable.
When she glanced back at him with a smile, it occurred to him that she wore no makeup, but she didn’t need enhancement. He found the splash of golden freckles across her nose and cheeks intriguing and couldn’t imagine why she would want to hide them. While she probably wouldn’t be described as a true beauty, he couldn’t imagine anything he would change about her fresh, pretty features.
He realized abruptly that he didn’t want to tell her goodbye and drive away without any prospect of seeing her again.
James cleared his throat as they reached his car, and Shannon braced herself, wishing they could skip past what she sensed was coming. She had hoped he would be immune to her relatives’ heavy-handed hints.
“I enjoyed the meal with your family,” he said, giving her one of his intriguingly faint smiles. “Thank you for inviting me to join you.”
“The least we could do,” she assured him. “And everyone enjoyed meeting you.”
She hoped that sounded casual and generic enough.
He frowned just a little, as if it had indeed caught his attention that she hadn’t referred specifically to herself, but he smoothed the expression almost immediately. “I’d like to hear more about your business sometime. It sounds very interesting.”
“You should check my Web site. Kid Capers dot com. All the details are there.”
His frown lasted a bit longer this time. “Um, yeah, I’ll check that out. But what I meant was, I’d like to hear more from you. Maybe we could have dinner sometime?”
He really was an attractive man. His dark hair was so thick and temptingly touchable. His elusive smile made her want to go to extra lengths to earn it. She liked the way he moved—with a deliberateness that was both elegant and masculine all at the same time. Her prided instincts told her this man was actually a study in contrasts—cordial, yet reserved; friendly, yet private; open to others, yet somehow closed on a personal level.
It was the latter quality that made her smile regretfully and shake her head. “I’m afraid I’m very busy right now, between my part-time job and getting my new business off the ground. I know you’re quite busy, too, so perhaps it would be best if we just say goodbye. It was very nice meeting you, James.”
His expression unreadable, he nodded and shook the hand she offered him. She tried without much success to ignore the frisson of awareness that went through her again when their palms touched so briefly. There were most definitely sparks here, she thought, rather quickly pulling away. Which didn’t mean she should place herself in a position to get burned. She still bore the scars from the last time she’d played with fire, romantically speaking.
“Goodbye, Shannon. Enjoy your ball game.”
With that, he climbed into his car. She turned to rejoin her family, but couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder as he drove away. She was aware of a funny little pang inside her when the car disappeared from her sight. Ordering herself to get over it, she drew a deep breath in preparation for her family’s scolding for letting that nice young doctor slip away.
Shannon hung up her cell phone with a satisfied smile. “And it’s a deal,” she murmured, pumping her fist in a gesture of success.
Devin Caswell, her friend, housemate and occasional assistant, clapped her hands with a muted cheer. “You got the gig?”
“Booked it.”
“Details?”
Shannon glanced at her notes. “Birthday party, nine-year-old girl, first Saturday in September—two weeks from tomorrow—at the home. The kid takes dance lessons, plays soccer, loves purple, like every other nine-year-old girl in the world and enjoys handcrafts. Her mom wants each guest to leave the party with a hand-crafted item to keep as a favor. I suggested decorated tote bags or headbands or beaded necklaces or friendship bracelets. She liked them all.”
Devin chuckled. “Going to be interesting trying to work all of that into a two-hour party.”
Wrinkling her nose, Shannon made another note on the pad. “The mom gave me free rein to come up with the projects, though I have a somewhat limited budget. It won’t be a big bash, but I’ll still make a small profit and that’s what counts. Maybe I’ll get some more jobs out of it.”
“Two weeks. Short notice, wasn’t it?”
“She apologized for that. She said she had intended to handle all the arrangements herself, but apparently she’s realized she just doesn’t have time to do the party justice. She said a friend of her husband’s recommended me. She was vague about who it was; I assume it was a former client. I’ll ask again next time I talk to her, so I can thank whoever it was for the referral.”
With a wry smile, she added, “Mrs. Hayes seemed to think it was a miracle we didn’t already have a party scheduled that day. I didn’t bother to mention we’re more likely to be free than booked on any given Saturday.”
Dark-haired, dark-eyed Devin wagged a finger, trying to keep her expression stern rather than amused. “Of course you didn’t mention that. One has to look successful to be successful, right?”
“Exactly.” That was the reason she and Devin had set up the living room of their small, rented house with as much an eye toward hosting potential clients as entertaining friends. The TV was housed in a cabinet with a door they kept closed when not in use. Few knickknacks cluttered the polished surfaces of the tables on either end of the plain, beige couch accessorized with a few colorful throw pillows. The framed posters on the walls were inexpensive, but tasteful.
Bookcases grouped around a round wood table in one corner of the room held albums of photographs and sample materials for the theme parties. The