Читать книгу Irresistible You - Barbara Boswell, Barbara Boswell - Страница 8

All twelve jurors arrived on time the next morning for the beginning of the trial. They introduced themselves to each other, and one of the older men, Roger Hollister, was elected foreman. The lawyers for both sides seemed pleased with the jurors’ first group decision; Hollister, whose nickname was Sarge, had served in World War II and knew a thing or two about leadership.

In the jury box before the opening argument, Luke once again sat next to Brenna Morgan. A natural gravitation process had already occurred among the twelve. Sarge Hollister and the other two men in his age group sat together, as did the five elderly women. The two pierced and tattooed young men, both named Jason with different surnames, stuck together, which left Brenna and Luke with nobody but each other.

Or so Luke told himself. Never mind that in his political incarnation, he had prided himself in fitting in with any group, regardless of age or sex. That was then, this was now, and he and Brenna were their own group strictly by default.

He glanced over at her. She’d gone for comfort over formality today, trading in yesterday’s blue maternity dress for black slacks and a long bottle-green top. He had opted for jeans again—after reading the prissy advisory not to wear them to court, of course he would never wear anything else—and an equally casual plaid flannel shirt.

But Brenna had followed the dress code, such as it was. She’d pulled her dark hair high in a ponytail, and the ends of it brushed against the nape of her neck. Luke’s eyes lingered on the soft, creamy-white skin exposed there, and he quickly lowered his gaze.

She looked as if she had a beachball stuffed under her shirt. Her breasts and belly seemed to merge into one big shapeless bulge, but her black tapered pants revealed that despite her advanced pregnancy, her legs were nicely shaped. Her ankles weren’t swollen today. He noticed that, too.

Luke frowned.

“Why aren’t you married?” he blurted out in a low whisper.

Brenna turned to look at him, visibly startled by the question. Luke himself was startled. He was doing it again—blabbing his thoughts aloud. The influence of the courthouse, perhaps? It was an old gothic-style place, vaguely creepy, where strange things might be expected to happen—like him imagining that he was being influenced by the atmosphere!

“Because I’m not,” she replied coolly.

She might as well have come right out and flatly said, It’s none of your business, because her answer, her voice and entire demeanor conveyed just that sentiment.

Still Luke didn’t back off. “Did your boyfriend dump you when he found out you were pregnant?”

“Are you speaking from personal experience? Is that what you would do in a similar situation?” Brenna went on the offense, her chin rising defiantly. “Or maybe you’ve already done it, for all I know.” She didn’t meet his eyes.

“No! I didn’t—I wouldn’t—I’ve never—” Luke paused when the attorney for Brad, the plaintiff, stood and began to present his opening argument.

Brad sat at the table, listening to his side being presented, nodding his head at every point. His former fiancée, Amber, visibly bristled, grimaced and vehemently shook her head in disagreement.

Everybody in the jury box stared at the feuding former lovers—everybody except Luke Minteer, whose eyes remained riveted on Brenna.

He leaned a little closer to her, his voice low in her ear. “Don’t try to turn this around and sling mud at me, lady. This isn’t about me.”

“True. It has nothing to do with you,” she murmured between clenched teeth. “And please stop talking. The judge is giving us a dirty look.”

“And God forbid we get on the wrong side of His Honor,” taunted Luke. “We might get thrown off the jury. Wow, that would be a heavy price to pay.”

“Excuse me.” The judge pounded his gavel, interrupting the attorney. “Jurors nine and ten, conversation will be conducted outside the courtroom, not during the trial. I don’t want to have to mention this again.” He glowered at Brenna and Luke.

Brenna blushed and she stared at the floor. Luke shrugged, scowling, but unintimidated by the reprimand.

“Don’t look so guilty,” he whispered to Brenna a moment later. “It’s not like we’re criminals on trial here. We’re the ones giving up our time to do our civic duty so that Brad and Amber can stick it to each—”

“Will you please shut up!” Brenna said desperately. “We’re going to get jailed for contempt of court or something if you keep—”

“Juror nine!” thundered the judge, glaring at Brenna.

She slumped lower in her chair. “I’m sorry, Your Honor.”

“She isn’t feeling well, Your Honor,” Luke spoke up. “She is very advanced in her pregnancy and needs to take a break right now. If you would be kind enough to excuse her for a few minutes…” He stared at the judge expectantly.

The judge looked nonplussed. “I…see. All right, we’ll all take a ten-minute break. Court resumes in ten minutes.” He strode from the courtroom.

“If we take ten-minute breaks every ten minutes, this trial will never end,” one attorney complained to the other, loud enough to be heard in the jury box.

“You guys are the ones who picked a very pregnant woman to be on your jury,” Luke called back to them. “So live with it, boys.”

“I’m going to the rest room,” Brenna murmured, and quickly left the courtroom.

Luke was in the corridor standing against the wall when she emerged from the bathroom. She would have walked past him, but he approached her.

“I came to your rescue,” he said proudly. “Pretty fast thinking on my part, hmm?”

“Is that how you see yourself? A kind of gallant knight in shining armor?” Brenna headed directly to the courtroom, Luke at her side. “What you seem to forget is that you’re the reason I got in trouble in the first place.”

“Honey, you got in trouble long before I came on the scene.”

“If that’s an attempt at wit,” Brenna ground out, “it failed.”

“Mmm-hmm. So you were dumped by the daddy when you told him you were pregnant?” Luke surmised with a knowing nod. “You wouldn’t be so defensive and angry unless I’d really hit a nerve.”

“I’m not defensive but, yes, I’m angry. Because you’re a…a—”

“Jerk,” Luke supplied amiably. “Weasel. Snake. Rat. I’ve been called all those things and much worse. Deservedly, too, no doubt. But I never knocked up a woman and walked away, leaving her, uh, holding the baby. Literally. I don’t blame you for being furious, and if it helps to direct your rage at me, go ahead. Your boyfriend is lower than fungus slime and—”

“I don’t have any rage to direct at you or anyone else!” Brenna exclaimed, exasperated. “I don’t have a boyfriend who dumped me when he found out about the baby, either. There is no boyfriend and never was. Period.”

Luke said nothing. They walked to their seats and sat down. They were the first two jurors to return to the box.

“Go on, ask me,” Brenna growled, after a few more moments of Luke’s silence. Oddly enough, it disturbed her more than his questions and speculations. “I can almost hear what you’re thinking. So just say it.”

“I’m not one to criticize anyone else for being impulsive.” His lips quirked into a wry smile. “I used to call it being spontaneous back when I was your age.”

“Back when you were my age?” Brenna scoffed. “That wasn’t so long ago, was it? It’s not like you were in World War II with Sarge and company.”

“I’m thirty-five and it’s been a long time since I was—” Luke gazed down at her. “Twenty-one?” he guessed. “And crossing the line from spontaneous to indiscriminate can result in—”

“I’m twenty-six. And having my baby wasn’t an impulsive act, it—” She broke off and stared at him, aghast. “You think that I had multiple spontaneous one-night stands and wasn’t careful?”

“You said you could hear what I was thinking,” he reminded her.

“I didn’t think it was that!” Her voice rose in indignation. “Ick! Sleeping around indiscriminately? You might have, but I would never do that.”

“Don’t get too self-righteous, honey. You’re pregnant, and that means at least one sexual encounter with at least one man. Since you were so adamant about not having a boyfriend, naturally, I assumed you’d, er, scored with more than one guy and didn’t know which one was the father of your baby. Not that I’m condemning you for that,” he added. “I’m very open-minded.”

“How generous of you!”

“I guess I might’ve sounded a bit self-righteous myself there.” Chagrined, Luke took a deep breath. “I apologize.”

“Don’t bother, because it doesn’t apply. Just because you scored with a string of one-night stands doesn’t mean that I did. And I do know who the father of my baby is. I personally selected him. He’s a medical student, tall, blue-eyed and blond, of Swedish-English ancestry, with no inherited diseases in his family. He has a strong bent toward the sciences but also enjoys music and sports, particularly—”

“You sound like you’re reading a description out of a catalog.” Luke’s dark-blue eyes widened suddenly. “Good Lord, that’s what you did, isn’t it? That’s how you picked this guy, from a…a sperm bank catalog?”

She didn’t deny it. She nodded her head, confirming it.

Luke gaped at her, stunned.

“I was anything but impulsive about this.” Her gray eyes were as calm and serious as her tone. “I methodically researched everything very carefully and—”

“That’s…that’s so premeditated, so calculating,” Luke cut in. He almost had to gasp for breath. “No, demented is what it is.”

“You’re the one who’s demented! You wouldn’t condemn me for a series of one-night stands or for not knowing who the father of my child is, but you’re scandalized that I went to a sperm bank to—”

“Shhh!” he hushed her. “Unless you want to broadcast this to our fellow jurors, I suggest you keep quiet.”

Brenna looked up to see the eight older jurors filing into the box. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want to shock anybody else,” she murmured caustically.

“I’m not shocked, I’m just…” Luke’s voice trailed off.

What exactly was he, then? He didn’t know, couldn’t identify the weird feelings roiling within him.

“Shocked,” Brenna insisted. “And you don’t like the sensation because shocking people is your specialty, right? You want to be the one to shock people, not the other way around.”

“All right, guilty as charged. Now, can I ask you a personal question?”

She sighed. “You’re going to ask it anyway, aren’t you?”

“Are you gay? Is that the reason you’ve gone the, er, test-tube route? Because your, uh, significant other is a…a woman?”

“You should hear yourself, stammering like a shocked and disapproving candidate who is trying extra hard not to be politically incorrect.” Brenna grinned. “Were you this tactful when you worked in politics?”

“Of course not—which is why I no longer work in politics. Well, are you?”

“No, I’m not gay. I don’t have a significant other of either sex, and I don’t want one. There’s just me and my baby, and that’s all either of us will ever need.”

The two Jasons came shuffling in and had to climb over everybody to get to their seats at the end of the box. Both wore short-sleeved T-shirts, providing a clear view of the long and colorful identical dragon tattoos on their respective arms.

The sight was enough to break anyone’s train of thought. Brenna and Luke stared in silence at the two dragons, then at each other. Seconds later the lawyers trooped into the courtroom with their clients. A moment after that, the judge reentered.

“Proceed, Counsel,” the judge ordered.

Brad’s attorney continued to explain how his client had been wronged by the duplicitous, avaricious Amber.

Luke gripped the arms of his chair.

Just me and my baby, that’s all either of us will ever need. Brenna’s statement swirled in his head. She sounded so sure, yet he knew she was wrong.

He had three brothers and three sisters, along with a myriad of cousins; all were married with children. He’d seen firsthand that a new mother and a newborn baby needed a lot more than each other. They needed a support system.

At the very least they needed one other committed person involved—first, with the pregnancy, and then with the infant itself. The baby’s father ought to own that role. Every child deserved a good father.

Brad’s attorney sat down, and Amber’s counsel, a young woman who looked to be right out of law school, rose to her feet with an impassioned declaration about women’s rights and jealous-male greed.

Luke wasn’t listening. He was too astounded by his own unexpected thoughts on parenthood. It sounded as if they’d been lifted directly from one of his brother’s family-values speeches.

He knew Matt believed all that stuff, but Luke didn’t. At least, he thought he didn’t. He’d always considered himself to be an anything-goes kind of guy.

But the thought of Brenna Morgan and her baby, alone except for each other, struck something deep within him, summoning beliefs and feelings he hadn’t been aware of harboring.

Luke looked up at the high ceiling, at the old-fashioned windows that looked as though they hadn’t been opened in the past century. This courthouse really was a strange place, where his brother’s speeches played inside his head. Where he couldn’t stop thinking about a pretty, young pregnant woman whom he didn’t even know.

Except it felt as if he knew her well. From the moment they’d started talking yesterday, something had clicked, as if they’d known each other for a long, long time. As if there had never been a time when they hadn’t known each other. They were open and frank and honest with each other; conversation between them came too easily for them to be total strangers.

But they’d never met…not in this lifetime.

Luke was unnerved. Now he seemed to be channeling his youngest sister, who believed in all that past-life nonsense. Luke didn’t. He was a live-for-today kind of guy who tried not to think of next year, let alone a next lifetime. Or a past one…with Brenna Morgan?

A diversion was definitely in order before he lost his mind completely. Luke tried to redirect his thoughts to his new book, which was coming along fantastically well.

His newest serial killer, a charming land developer, was on the trail for fresh victims, and a small town hosting a national pageant for teenage beauty queens had invited him there, in hopes of becoming the site of his next lucrative mall….

Luke shifted in his chair, picturing the calculating killer and the teen beauties, especially the one about to meet her doom….

And his mind abruptly went blank.

If he leaned to the right, he nearly choked on the heavy scent of musk oil emanating from one of the dragon twins. But if he leaned to the left, his shoulders brushed Brenna’s and he inhaled the light, fresh scent of soap and shampoo and powder, a wholesome yet somehow alluring scent.

Luke sat straight up, suddenly, wildly alarmed. It couldn’t be happening. His body was acting as if he was aroused.

He was aroused!

His pulses thundered in his head, drowning out the lawyers’ voices, the whir from the heating vent in the wall, the dried fallen leaves being blown against the glass window-panes by the wind. Brenna Morgan, sitting next to him and oblivious of the effect she was having on him, completely commanded his senses.

He could see her and smell her, but that wasn’t enough. He needed more. He was filled with a faint sense of anger at his involuntary response. This would not do!

But he could barely stop himself from reaching over to touch her, right here in the middle of the courtroom. He desperately wanted to feel if her hair was as silky as it looked, to run his fingers along the lines of her beautifully shaped mouth. To insert his thumb inside.

Luke pictured her lips parting, then allowed his imagination free rein, erotically expanding the scene in every way….

He bent forward, straining and aching and pulsing with need.

Jason M. in the chair beside him suddenly elbowed him.

“She’s hot, huh?” the younger man whispered.

Startled, Luke followed his gaze and realized that not only had Jason noticed his predicament, he had attributed it to the defendant, Amber, seated at the nearby table, her enormous chest thrust forward, her cherry-red lips pouting. Amber repeatedly flashed provocative glances at the jury, zeroing in on the three younger males in particular.

“I think she likes us,” the other Jason chimed in with a snort and a chortle.

Which drew the attention of the judge. “No talking in the jury box!” he snapped.

The Jasons lapsed into sullen silence, but Luke was grateful for the reprieve.

With a sidelong gaze, Luke resumed his covert study of Brenna. Her skin, glowing and natural, her delicate features, put Amber’s heavily made-up mask in the shade. As for figures…

The two Jasons might be slavering over Amber’s ample assets, but Luke found himself thoroughly fascinated by the sudden visible movements of Brenna’s pregnant belly. Beneath her knit shirt, the outline of the baby’s head—or its rump?—was discernible as it rolled over within her.

Brenna laid her hand over her belly, as if to soothe the restless baby. And Luke, unable to stop himself, did the same thing. He felt the warmth of her belly and the movements of the unborn child beneath his fingers.

And then his hand touched Brenna’s.

It was as if an electric current had passed between them.

Brenna’s head jerked up, and she drew in a sharp, shocked breath. Her eyes met Luke’s, and he instantly lifted his hand, unable to come up with an excuse—or at least one he considered acceptable. Not to mention believable.

“Uh, sorry,” he muttered. “Irresistible impulse.”

He’d tossed around that phrase in his books, not really believing such a thing existed. It was merely an easy motive to attribute to a character’s behavior, almost a cliché.

Now he knew that irresistible impulses were real indeed, because he had been seized by one himself when he’d put his hand on Brenna. But how could he ever expect her to understand that, when he didn’t understand it himself?

Luke watched Brenna draw back, trying to move as far from him as possible within the confines of her chair. He couldn’t blame her. After all, he had invaded her personal space and touched her like some sort of out-of-control psycho.

He wrote about those—he wasn’t supposed to act like one!

Luke closed his eyes and massaged his temples with his fingertips. What was happening to him? And why?

The morning session was adjourned for a one-hour lunch break. The two Jasons were the first to go, barreling past the other jurors and the attorneys and casting smirks at Amber as they passed her.

The eight senior members of the jury decided to go together to Peglady’s, a restaurant near the courthouse. They were halfway to the door when Sarge, the foreman, turned around to look at Brenna and Luke, still standing side-by-side in the box.

“Hey, you two want to come with us?” called Sarge.

“No, thanks,” Luke answered for both himself and Brenna. “Uh, you didn’t want to go with them, did you?” he tacked on as the eight jurors departed with surprising speed.

“Too bad for me if I did,” said Brenna. “I’d have to run to catch up with them, and I’m not in running condition these days.”

“Yeah, they are hotfooting it out of here,” observed Luke, unrepentant. “I guess they’re hungry. Well, Peglady’s serves big portions so there’s plenty to eat, plus extra to take home. Too bad the food is inedible.”

“How can that be? I heard one of the women, Wanda, I think, tell the others that Peglady’s is an institution here in Ebensburg.”

“Yeah, it’s an institution, all right. Like prisons, schools, state hospitals. Name one of those renowned for its great cuisine.”

“Point taken.” Brenna made her way out of the box.

Luke followed. He wasn’t following her per se, he assured himself. To get out of the courtroom, he had no choice but to trail her, unless he wanted to be rude and push past her. And he did not want to be rude.

“So where are you going for lunch?” Luke didn’t like trailing behind, so he caught up to her, easily matching his long strides to her waddling ones.

It was true, she did waddle like a duck, an observation noted by his writer’s eye for detail. Being so very pregnant, he knew she couldn’t help it. How did she walk when she wasn’t pregnant? Sexily, with her hips swaying seductively from side to side? Gracefully, like a dancer? Or—

“Maybe I’ll brave Peglady’s, despite the inedible food.” Her voice intruded on his ruminations. “At least it’s close. I don’t want to walk too far in the cold. What about you?”

“I think I’ll go home. I live about twenty minutes outside of town, up the mountain.”

“Twenty minutes up and twenty minutes back. That won’t give you much time to eat,” Brenna pointed out.

“Approximately twenty minutes. It’s sweet of you to care.”

Brenna looked up at him. His grin and the glint in his eyes matched his teasing tone.

“Don’t waste your boyish-delight act on me,” she said tartly. “It’ll probably go over well with Amber, though. She couldn’t take her eyes off you and the Jasons, but I think she’d choose you, given any encouragement at all.”

“Boyish delight?” Luke arched his brows. “Ouch. As for Amber… Since we jurors are forbidden to discuss anything about this case among ourselves, I suppose I can’t accuse you of having a jealous fit of pique because Amber was looking me over. It could be grounds for a mistrial.”

They walked into the jurors’ lounge where the coatroom was located and found their coats. She had her big pale-brown parka, he had a navy-blue winter jacket that deepened the color of his eyes. Both carried their coats instead of putting them on.

Luke held the elevator doors open with his arm until she was safely inside the car. And then a group of people appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and pushed inside, shoving Brenna hard against Luke.

“Hey, people, quit rushing like a herd of stampeding buffalo,” Luke ordered sharply. “This woman is practically nine-months pregnant, and she was almost knocked down. Every one of you owes her an apology, and if she doesn’t get one, I’m getting your names. And this is a courthouse, so just use your imagination as to what I’ll do next.”

“Luke!” whispered Brenna, dismayed.

Everybody in the crowded elevator began offering her abject apologies, making sure that Luke saw and heard them. She stood pressed against him, her back molded to his chest and the cradle of his thighs. His hands rested on her shoulders. They felt heavy and warm, just like his body felt against hers. She had to fight to keep from relaxing against him and melting into him. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do.

Heat permeated through her, and it felt good, keeping her warm even when the doors opened to a blast of the chilly November air that filled the first floor of the courthouse. The drafty entrance foyer, the source of the unwelcome cold, was just ahead of them.

“Every single one of those people told you they were sorry,” Luke said, sounding awestruck. “And I think they genuinely were sorry, too. Sometimes people surprise me.”

“The unanimous apologies aren’t surprising at all. Everybody in that elevator knew you were watching them. They probably considered you dangerously prone to filing lawsuits. If you had told them to sing Christmas carols to me, they would’ve launched into a chorus of ‘Joy to the World.”’

“You have a tendency to overanalyze. I suggest that you simply accept things at face value, Brenna.”

“I suggest you stop making suggestions, Luke.”

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name,” he murmured, staring down at her.

“So what?” Brenna didn’t look at him; she kept her gaze focused well over his shoulder. “It was the first time you’d said my name, too,” she added defensively.

“So you called me Luke in retaliation for me calling you Brenna?” The glint was back in his eye, the drollery in his tone. “You really go for the jugular, don’t you, babe?”

She made no reply.

“I do have another suggestion to make,” Luke instantly filled the silence between them. “I suggest you thank me for defending you against those boors in the elevator. I stood up for you, remember?”

“I didn’t ask you to. I didn’t want you to. I don’t like to make a scene, and you certainly turned that elevator ride into one.”

“Well, for one who doesn’t like to stand out, you sure picked a helluva way to get pregnant, honey. Taking the sperm-bank route inspires curiosity, which means lots more attention than simple, old-fashioned procreation ever would’ve.”

They stood a few feet away from the doors while they donned their coats. Luke easily shrugged into his, then helped Brenna, who was struggling with hers while also shifting her purse from side to side.

He let his hands linger on her shoulders while she fumbled with the zipper.

“I’ve never told anybody about—about how I got pregnant,” she said, so quietly he had to strain to hear her. “And I’d appreciate it if you would keep it to yourself.”

Brenna gave up on the zipper and hurried to the double doors. Luke was right behind her, and this time he pushed them open, holding them for her.

“You haven’t told anybody else?” He was incredulous. “Nobody knows the truth but me?”

“No. It’s a fact, I really don’t like making a scene or being the center of attention. And as you pointed out, something kind of…unconventional, like the donor catalog and bank, pretty much guarantees…speculation and gossip.”

A blast of wind hit them as they stepped outside. Shuddering from the cold, Brenna clutched the sides of her coat together.

“Come on, my car’s right down there.” Luke pointed to his enormous black Dodge Durango truck parked along the curb, almost directly in front of the courthouse.

He took Brenna’s arm and walked her through the wind to his truck. She ducked her head, letting him guide her, the cold air stinging her eyes, making them tear. Moments later she was seated in the front passenger seat while Luke revved up the engine.

“Isn’t this spot reserved for a VIP or something? How did you park here without getting ticketed?” Brenna flexed her icy fingers, pulling on her knit gloves. “Yesterday they told us to park two blocks down—if we could find a place in the free lot there. Otherwise, we were on our own and good luck.”

She zipped up her coat just as the heater began to work, quickly warming the interior.

“One of my cousins is a cop,” explained Luke. “He suggested this spot and said he’d pass the word that my truck was right where it should be.”

“I thought your relatives didn’t like you—except for your favorite aunt who enjoys grisly murders.”

“Well, some of the younger cousins, especially the guys, think I’m cool.” Luke swung the truck into the sparse flow of traffic. “And I shamelessly buy their friendship by taking them out to lunch or dinner or whatever.”

“Are you trying to get back in your family’s good graces?” Brenna asked curiously. “Is that why you came back here after…” Her voice trailed off.

“After my brother fired me and my family told me I was insufferable and full of myself, a sleazy showboat, and a vain big shot who was in danger of losing my immortal soul?” Luke chuckled wryly. “Mixed metaphors don’t bother the Minteers, and they freely fling them.”

“But why—” Brenna stared out the window. “Where are we going?”

“To lunch, remember? We have a little less than an hour.”

“I’m not going to your place in…in the mountains!” Her voice rose in panic. “Let me out right now!”

“I’m not going home. You were right, there’s not enough time.” Luke cast her an inquisitive glance. “You’re scared,” he observed thoughtfully. “Of me?”

“I admit that I do have issues with being taken somewhere against my will by a man I hardly know,” Brenna replied tersely.

“Issues,” he scoffed, his dark brows narrowing. “The current buzzword. An annoying one, too. Nobody has problems anymore, everybody has issues. Although it seems to me what you really have going on is an overload of hormones. You were operating in high maternal-protection mode.”

“Maybe so.” Brenna folded her arms and rested them on the shelf of her belly. She tried to will her pounding heart into beating a little slower.

“Were you freaked when I touched your belly in the courtroom earlier?” Luke blurted out. A flush of heat spread up his neck to his face. “I didn’t intend to scare you, but when I saw the baby moving, it—I—”

“It’s happened to me before,” she said briskly. “People wanting to touch my belly to feel the baby move, except it’s always been elderly women, and they always ask.”

Once again she tamped down the swell of feelings the touch of his big hand on her belly had elicited within her. They meant nothing; they were a physiological reaction, she reminded herself. Insisted to herself. Hormonal overload and nothing else.

“It really was an irresistible impulse,” explained Luke. “You see, I have a scene in my new book where a pregnant woman—”

“You’re not going to have a pregnant woman murdered by a serial killer?” Brenna was aghast.

“No, but the killer does touch the pregnant woman’s belly. It’s very, very suspenseful. I want the reader literally shaking and screaming at the killer, ‘Don’t you dare hurt that mother and child.’ And when he doesn’t, the reader’s relief will be—”

“You never did say where we’re going,” Brenna cut in sharply. He’d been exploring the mind-set of his serial killer character when he’d touched her? She shuddered.

“I’m kidnapping you to the China Palace, a few blocks from here. Ever been there?”

“Yes. And jokes about kidnapping aren’t funny.”

“That’s what the homicide detective said to the serial killer in my first book,” joked Luke. She didn’t smile, and he sighed. “Well, the humor worked in the scene in the book.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I guess you’ll have to, since you never intend to read a word I write. Okay, we’ll move on to a neutral topic. The China Palace. It’s owned by the Lo family, who ran a successful place in Philadelphia but moved here because they wanted to try a small town for a change. They’re very strong supporters of my brother. Held a fund-raising dinner for Matt right here in the restaurant.”

Luke pulled into the parking lot of the China Palace. Inside, the hostess and a waitress, both young Chinese women, greeted Luke enthusiastically and escorted them to a choice table by the window.

It appeared that Matt wasn’t the only Minteer to enjoy support here, Brenna noted. And the admiration appeared to be mutual. Luke chatted and joked with the two young women as Brenna seated herself and opened the menu.

“Okay, which one are you?” asked one of the young women, finally acknowledging Brenna’s presence.

It took Brenna a moment to realize that she was the one being addressed. And she had no idea what the answer to that question might be. She stared at Luke, baffled.

“Jennifer wants to know which one of the many Minteers you are,” he explained, toying with a salt shaker.

“One of the sisters or one of the cousins?” prompted Jennifer, smiling invitingly at Luke.

Brenna met Luke’s eyes. He shrugged. “I’ll let you decide since you’re the fiction writer,” she said dryly.

Luke cleared his throat. “Actually, she isn’t a Minteer. This is Brenna Morgan. Brenna, meet the Lo sisters, Jennifer and Isabelle.”

“Hello,” Brenna offered politely.

The Lo sisters gaped at her, barely managing to mutter a response before abruptly departing.

“What was that all about?” Luke frowned. “I’ve never known them to be rude before. I’ve been snubbed by plenty of people in this town but the Lo sisters have always been exceptionally friendly.”

“Yes, I noticed. And they weren’t being rude, they were stunned.” Brenna was amused. The astonishment on the Lo sisters’ faces had been comical. “No doubt it was the shock of seeing you with a pregnant woman who wasn’t related to you.”

“What are you implying?” Luke demanded.

“Me? Nothing.” Brenna turned her attention back to the menu.

Luke looked over at the Lo sisters who were blatantly staring at him and Brenna. “I’ve been the object of enough gossip to know that particular look they’re giving us,” he muttered.

“I’m sure you have. I’ve heard some of the stories.” Brenna never glanced up from the menu.

“For crying out loud, we’re serving on a jury together. It’s our lunch break!” exclaimed an aggrieved Luke. “And who told you stories about me? And, er, what were they?”

“When I told my neighbor that Congressman Minteer’s brother was on the jury with me, she told me her brother knew you back in Harrisburg, in your pre-D.C. days.” Brenna closed the menu. “I think I’ll have a bowl of wonton soup, an egg roll and chicken with cashews.”

“Who’s your neighbor’s brother?” pressed Luke.

“Steve Saraceni, the lobbyist.”

“Uh-oh.” Luke actually gulped. “Did she, um, go into specifics?”

“No.” Brenna smiled sweetly.

“Well, it doesn’t matter, anyway, because it’s all ancient history, water over the dam. A place in the past we’ve passed out of.” Luke paused to catch his breath. “Those days are over. Saraceni would say the same thing himself.”

Brenna sipped her water. “I’m so thirsty. The air in that courtroom is too dry.”

“Okay, the stories out of D.C. were even worse, I can’t deny that.” Luke fiddled with his napkin. “But that’s—”

“Ancient history? Water over the dam? A place in the past you’ve—”

“Isabelle!” Luke stood up and waved the waitress over. “We’re ready to order now.”