Just a Little White Lie(30)

“Aw, jeez, I’m sorry, Luce. I didn’t mean it like that.” He reached for her, but she stepped away. “Oh, so now you’re gonna get all moody on me.”

Her jaw dropped. “Me? Moody? I’m not the one who stomped around in the store after your dad left till Farley came out to see if there was a problem.” She pointed a finger at him. “That would be you, sourpuss.”

“Sourpuss?” He stared at her, disbelieving. “I didn’t hear your dad accuse you of frittering away your life. Of letting your family down.”

“Then you weren’t listening very well. And don’t forget. Mine actually tried to sell me to the highest bidder.”

They stood there on the sidewalk, glaring at each other. Then Jake started to laugh. Lucinda tapped her foot and tried her darnedest to hold out, but she couldn’t.

He rested his forehead on hers. “We’re a real pair, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are.” But as she spoke the words, reality crept in. Truth was, they weren’t a pair. Real or otherwise. They were only play-acting.

“Since Dad’s not home, what do you say we drop this off at the house and head over to see Mom and Gram?”

“Sure. Why not? It’ll give us a chance to fib to a couple more people today.”

He opened his mouth, but she shook her head. “Ignore that. I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You’re right. I did. But let’s go anyway.”





Lucinda didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but when Jake signaled to turn, she stared in fascination at the red-brick house set back on the sprawling, manicured green lawn.

“You grew up here?”

“Yep. I came home from the hospital to this house. My folks are planted deep.”

“It’s beautiful, Jake.”

“Not what you’re used to.”

The slight defensiveness in his voice surprised her. Disappointed her. She couldn’t decide which troubled her more. That he had no idea what he had here, the sense of continuity, of home in its truest sense, or that he thought so little of her he figured it would matter that his home wasn’t an egomaniacal mansion.

Well, he could think again.

“No. It’s not what I’m used to. It’s so much better.” When the bike came to a stop, she slid off without waiting for his help, unsnapped her helmet and lifted it off, running her fingers through her tangled hair. “It’s not just a house. It’s your home.”

Jake reached out to take her helmet from her, his eyes questioning. But he didn’t say a word.

A magnificent oak towered over the front lawn, Spanish moss draping gracefully from its branches. White wicker furniture waited on the front porch, inviting someone to come relax, wile away a hot summer afternoon with a glass of iced lemonade in one hand and a good book in the other.

Flowers, vivid and friendly, spilled from the ground and tumbled from containers. A wind chime in the oak tinkled musically. Jasmine scented the air.

Lucinda fell instantly and madly in love.

Before they even reached the porch, the front door opened with a squeal. It had to be Grandma Hattie who burst out, arms outstretched. Jake took the stairs two at a time, enveloping the petite woman in a bone-crushing embrace, lifting her off her feet and planting a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek.

“Gosh, I’ve missed you, Gram!” He buried his face in her cloud of lavender-white hair.

She patted his back. “Why in the world, then, did you stay away so long? I could have been dead and buried by the time you wandered back to Pride.” She looked past Jake’s wide shoulders and slapped his back good-naturedly. “Now put me down and introduce me to this pretty friend of yours.”

Before he could do that, another woman, her short, dark blond hair tucked behind her ears, came to the doorway, a smile as big as Texas on her face. She and Jake shared the same green eyes, the same mouth and nose, the slim build.

This, then, was where Jake got his looks; other than hair color and height, he didn’t resemble his father in the least.

“Mom.”

“Son.” And then she simply opened her arms, and Jake moved into them. “I’ve missed you, honey.”

“Missed you too, Mom.”

Lucinda’s throat clogged. What would it be like to have this kind of love? Was her mom, her dad missing her—even a little bit? She doubted it, unless her dad wanted her back to help shoulder company responsibilities.

Mother and son stood like that, rocking back and forth, for a moment. Then Mrs. Parker drew away. “We’re being rude.”

She turned to Lucinda. “You’ll have to forgive us. It’s…” She cleared her throat. “Our boy’s been gone almost a year. We’ve missed him.”