Moonlight in the Morning Read online

  “I got them to remove the cast while I was in Miami. I wanted to put both my arms around you.”

  “I’m still here,” Nell said.

  “I meant you too,” Tris said. “A plural you.”

  “But if your arm has healed, you won’t need Reede to take over your practice, will you? You can go right back to work.”

  Tristan gave her a half smile. “It’s still weak, and I think I need some time for rehabilitation. What do you think?”

  “Definitely,” Jecca said. “Lots of time.” She wanted to add “maybe the whole summer” but didn’t. She turned to look at Nell. “How’s your father?”

  “He hurts but he’s okay.”

  Jecca looked at Tris for verification and he nodded.

  “Did you paint my playhouse?” Nell asked.

  “On paper. I drew several color possibilities, and Lucy and I got fabric samples.”

  “Fabric?” Tris asked. “Why do you need that and what have you ladies not told me?”

  Nell giggled again.

  “We have our secrets,” Jecca said. “But I can tell you that we’re going to make up for lost time in restoring the playhouse. I haven’t heard from Bill Welsch.”

  “Addy called him and he does want to work on the building, but he has a big job to finish first. It will be weeks before he can get to it.”

  “Mom said he wants to see Miss Livie,” Nell said.

  “How interesting.” Jecca looked at Tristan, but he shrugged. He still knew nothing.

  He was pulling into the parking lot of Al’s Diner.

  Big Al, who was as greasy as his hamburgers and had a truly remarkable belly, didn’t blink an eye when three formally dressed people walked into his diner. He yelled from behind the half counter that opened into the kitchen. “Doc! You want the usual?”

  “Sure,” Tris said.

  “And you, princess?” he asked Nell. “Grilled cheese and a chocolate milk shake?”

  “And—” Tris began.

  “Yeah, yeah, pickles for the two of you.” He looked at Jecca. “And you, city lady?”

  “City?” Jecca said in an exaggerated accent. “I grew up in New Joisey. Give me what you got and don’t hold back.”

  Al gave a snort, a sound that by a serious stretch of the imagination could be taken for a laugh.

  “You got it, Jersey ot , aLil.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Al gave you a nickname,” Tris said. “You are now officially a member of Edilean society.” He motioned for Jecca to sit beside him, but she didn’t trust herself to be that close to him. She slipped in beside Nell, who was already flipping through the music charts.

  “Coward,” Tristan said under his breath.

  Jecca pretended not to hear him. “What’s with the pickles?” she asked.

  “All the Tristans like them,” Nell said without looking up.

  “Tristans?” Jecca asked, looking at him across the table. No man had ever before looked so handsome in a tuxedo. The garment could have been created just for Tris. And he looked utterly comfortable in it, wearing it with the ease of jeans and a T-shirt.

  It took concentration to remember where they were and what she was saying. “Are there more than one of you?”

  “The name goes back a few generations,” he said as he reached across the table and took her hand. “There’s been a succession of us.”

  “And they all like pickles.” Nell held out her hand to her uncle for money to put in the jukebox. Reluctantly, he let go of Jecca’s hand to feel in his trouser pockets. They were empty, so he looked inside his jacket. He came up with change, but he also pulled out Jecca’s note with the hearts on it.

  He gave the money to Nell, then looked at Jecca with blue fire in his eyes.

  She had to look away as her skin grew warm.

  “Miss Livie called Uncle Tris in Miami and told him what you were going to wear,” Nell said. “So he drove us very fast to the airport. We came home with no suitcases.”

  Jecca looked at Tris, her eyes questioning.

  “I couldn’t let you go to Reede wearing one of Miss Livie’s dresses, now could I?”

  Jecca couldn’t help being pleased. She imagined him and Nell running through the big Miami airport, sans luggage, and getting on the first plane where they could find seats. She’d never before had a man make such an effort to be near her.

  Elvis came on the jukebox singing “Hound Dog,” and Nell scooted toward Jecca. She wanted out of the booth.

  Jecca got up to let her out, thinking she was going to the restroom. Tris leaned back against the wall and motioned for Jecca to join him on that side of the booth. She couldn’t resist him a second time. And she told herself that she’d had enough time to calm down from the dance, so maybe she could sit by him.

  But he put out his arm and turned in the seat. It was easy for her to slide into the familiar position of snuggling together, and she sneaked a kiss on the back of his hand.

  He had time to put one kiss on her neck before he looked up.

  Nell had stopped in front of the old jukebox, and Al, with his enormous belly and grease-spattered apron, came out from the kitchen. He and Nell did an excellent rock-and-roll dance to Elvis’s song. Al hels scame out d her hand as they gyrated around, then he lifted Nell above his head, always being careful that his grease didn’t touch her.

  “They’re good dancers,” Jecca said.

  “No better than we are together,” he said softly, his lips on her ear. “Other women get scared when I try to dip them. But not you. You’re the best I’ve ever danced with.”

  “Really?”

  “Very much so. I’m beginning to think you’re the best at everything.”

  She couldn’t help smiling at his words. “I’m—”

  “I know,” he said. “Leaving.” He nibbled at her earlobe. “My dear niece is going to spend the night at my dad’s house. Want to have a sleepover with me?”

  She took a breath before answering. “Yes,” she said at last and felt a shiver of anticipation run through her.

  When the song ended, Al and Nell bowed to each other, and she returned to the booth. Jecca moved out of Tristan’s arms but she stayed on his side. Their food was served, and the talk turned to the playhouse.

  Jecca answered all Nell’s questions, but it wasn’t easy, as Tris’s hands were on her back, and twice he ran his fingers down her bare arm. By the time they’d finished, Jecca was ready to throw him across the tabletop, but Nell insisted that she had to have dessert. She told Al they wanted three pieces of cherry pie.

  While they waited, under the cover of the table Tristan put his hand on Jecca’s knee and moved upward. When he felt the stockings, which left an expanse of her thigh bare, he choked on his drink.

  “You drink too fast,” Nell said as Al handed around plates of pie.

  Tris looked at Jecca. “I like Miss Livie’s dress.”

  “Me too,” she said, smiling. “And this is just the way she wore it.”

  “Pole dancing and now this. Just when you think you know someone, you learn something new,” he said. “Nell, you think you could speed it up in eating that pie?”

  “No,” she said. “When are we going to leave for Uncle Roan’s cabin?”

  “He’s expecting us tomorrow. Is that okay with you, Jecca?”

  “Great,” she said, but she was having difficulty concentrating. Tris’s hand was moving slowly up her leg.

  “Can you bring the pictures of the playhouse?” Nell asked.

  “Uh . . . yes,” Jecca said.

  “Uncle Tris got me all the colored pencils and paints and paper you told him to.”

  “Good,” Jecca said. “We’ll . . .” She moved away from Tris before his hand drove her crazy.

  “More pie?” he asked Jecca. “Or would you like another dessert?”

  “I bet Grandpa will still be at the party,” Nell said as she turned a couple of cherries over for the fourth time. “Maybe I should stay with you tonight