Secret Son, Convenient Wife(39)

“So what’s happening about those pictures?” Tate’s sister asked, before anyone had a chance to say more than a few words of greeting.#p#分页标题#e#

Tate’s mouth tightened as he let his mother take Nathan from him. “I’m working on it.”

“You realize what’s out there in cyberspace stays out there forever, don’t you?”

“Stop exaggerating, Bree,” her father said from the bar in the corner, where he was pouring drinks.

Bree spun toward him. “I’m not exaggerating, Dad. Ask anyone.”

“Give it a rest, sis,” Tate growled, echoing Gemma’s thoughts, and probably everyone else’s, too. It seemed as if his sister was deliberately stirring up trouble.

Could Bree have been the one to take the pictures and put them on the internet?

“My, look at this little one,” Darlene said in a calming voice as she sat down with her grandson on her lap. “He’s such a little man now.” It was clear she was trying to change the subject. “He looks like Gemma, but he reminds me of you at that age, Tate.”

The words drew Tate’s attention to his son, and his face relaxed. “Does he now?”

“Oh, yes. You were a beautiful little boy.”

“Gee, thanks,” Tate said. He gave her a crooked smile, but there was the usual hint of hardness as he looked at his mother. “Just what a grown man wants to hear.”

Darlene’s eyes flickered. “There’s nothing wrong with a mother thinking her son is beautiful, no matter what his age.” She sent her daughter-in-law an encouraging smile. “Isn’t that right, Gemma?”

No matter what was going on between mother and son, at least Darlene wasn’t holding anything against her. Gemma was grateful for the other woman’s support. “I couldn’t agree more, Darlene. Our sons will always be beautiful to us.”

“Yeah, but thinking it and saying it out loud are two different things,” Tate drawled, giving Gemma a hooded look that made her acutely aware of everything that had happened between them back in their drawing room. His male possession had been totally consuming and irreversibly branding. At one time, she would have reveled in it. Right now all she wanted to do was get those perceptive eyes off her. Would he think she was putty in his hands now, not just physically but in every other way? No, that wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it.

“Er…what was Tate like as a child?” she asked, dragging her gaze back to her mother-in-law.

Darlene beamed. “Oh, he was—”

“Best to ask Jonathan that question,” Tate’s grandmother interrupted her, speaking for the first time and not in a friendly tone. “I’d say he knows his son better than anyone.”

The animation left Darlene’s face and suddenly there was awkwardness in the air. It was as if Helen had been trying to make a point at her daughter-in-law’s expense.

Then Jonathan came toward them carrying drinks. “No, I’ll let Darlene answer that one, Mother.” He smiled lovingly at his wife. “Go on, sweetheart.”

Darlene looked at her husband, then nodded gratefully and put on a smile. “Now what was I saying? Oh, yes. Tate was a beautiful child with a sweet nature.” She glanced at Bree. “So was my darling daughter,” she added, and her eyes filled with motherly bemusement. “Of course, right from the start they both had their moments.”

“We wouldn’t be Chandlers if we didn’t,” Bree quipped, and everyone smiled.

Gemma looked at Tate, whose expression had closed up and who now had his hands thrust in his trouser pockets. She realized the awkwardness wasn’t only between Helen and Darlene. The tension was between mother and son, a tension that Tate didn’t have with his grandmother. The warm feeling between grandmother and grandson was obviously reciprocated. At the wedding, Helen had shown more than a soft spot for Tate. Hadn’t the elderly woman hinted at being worried Gemma would hurt him? Helen couldn’t be such an unfeeling person then.#p#分页标题#e#

So why pick on poor Darlene?

Gemma asked herself that question a couple more times during the delicious lunch as everything returned to normal and the only person Helen appeared to be slightly reserved with now was her.

Back to square one.

Or was it? All afternoon Tate watched her, stepping in and changing the subject, or getting her away from his grandmother whenever the woman focused on her in the smallest way. It was as if he was protecting her, now that he knew all she had suffered at the hands of her parents. Offering an olive branch? Okay, so it was more like a twig, but it didn’t mean any less.