Moonlight in the Morning Read online

  “Me too.” She kissed his palm. She still wasn’t used to seeing him. His voice was familiar and she’d know his hands anywhere, but his face held mystery for her. “Chanel.”

  “The perfume? I’m fresh out.”

  “You know when you walk into a big department store and there are all those different cosmetics counters?”

  “Not from personal experience, but I’ve seen them.”

  She put her hand on his bare chest. “Each company has its own look, and you’re like the guys in the posters at the Chanel counters.”

  It took Tristan a moment to get her meaning. “You’re saying I look like a model?”

  “Well . . .” she said. R. Sbo8221;20;Older, but yes.”

  “So now I’m an old model?” He was leaning toward her.

  “Very old,” she said.

  He put his face against her neck. “I’ll have you know that I am a doctor, not a model, and right now I think you need examining.”

  Jecca’s answer was a giggle as she slid down into the bed.

  By the time they’d made love again, showered—where they had a quickie—then showered again, it was one o’clock.

  “I need food,” Jecca said as she dried off. “And I need something to wear besides silk.”

  “Looks like you did all right at the Chanel counter,” Tris said and took a step toward her.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said. “I would have thought Nell would be here by now.”

  “She was, but I sent her back to Miss Livie’s.”

  “Please tell me they aren’t all over there now, waiting for me to get out of bed,” Jecca said.

  “Sorry, but they are.”

  “And I’m going to show up wearing the dress I had on last night.” She groaned. “Very embarrassing.”

  “Miss Livie wouldn’t let that happen.” He left the room for a moment, then returned with a paper grocery bag and handed it to her.

  Inside was a pair of Jecca’s jeans, sandals, a pink linen shirt, and underwear.

  “Nell brought it over at about nine this morning and I gave her Miss Livie’s dress. We’re invited for lunch.”

  Jecca dressed in minutes. There was even a bag of cosmetics in the bottom, and the kind thoughtfulness of the women made her smile. Is this what it was like to have a mother? she wondered.

  Tristan seemed to know what she was feeling. “Nice ladies,” he said.

  “Very nice.”

  As they started out the door, he caught her arm. “Jecca, about going to Roan’s cabin . . . We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  Turning, she smiled at him. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Are you sure? His place is rustic, and besides, both Nell and Roan will be there. Maybe you’d rather go somewhere else.”

  “To a place that’s more luxurious? Where I can have a morning at a spa?”

  “Yes,” he said, his face serious. “With you living in New York and all, I’m sure your tastes are more sophisticated than ours here. Maybe you’d like something more cultured.”

  “You’re forgetting how I grew up. If Roan owns a chainsaw, I’ll show you guys how to properly use it.”

  Laughing, Tristan kissed her. “I’m envision217217;ll sing you in Miss Livie’s dress with a chainsaw.” He sighed. “We better go. Nell said Miss Livie and Lucy have been cooking all morning. I’m to take as much food up to Roan as my old car will hold.”

  “So they know Roan?”

  “Are you kidding? He teases them until even I’m blushing. He says that flirting keeps him attached to his Southern roots, since he’s not allowed to so much as look at his students in California.”

  “Glad to hear that,” Jecca said. They were walking along the trail to Mrs. Wingate’s house, arm in arm. To their left was the path to the playhouse. At the diner, Jecca had told Tris and Nell about Mrs. Wingate’s garden ideas. “Think there’s enough sun in there for plants to grow?”

  “There’s a dying elm that needs to be taken out,” Tris said. “Once it’s gone, there’ll be plenty of light. Maybe you can use a chainsaw on the tree.”

  “Me?” she said, looking aghast as she moved away from him. “But I’m a girl!”

  “Are you?” Tris asked, his voice low. “That was something I hadn’t noticed about you. Better let me check to make sure.”

  When he reached out to touch her, she stepped back, but then halted when she realized she was going down the path to the playhouse.

  “Good idea,” he said. “I think we need to look at that place together. I’ll show you how we can lock the door.”

  “There you are!” said an unmistakable voice. It was Nell, and she was at the head of the trail, still on Wingate property. She was glaring at the two of them. “We’ve been waiting forever,” Nell said. “We’re all starving, and Uncle Roan doesn’t know where we are.” Nell sounded like a mother lecturing her children, and Jecca felt guilty that she’d slept so long.

  But Tristan just laughed as he ran at his niece, picked her up, and kept going.

  As Jecca hurried after them, she tried to think of some excuse—a lie really—to explain why she was so late. But when she entered the house she knew she didn’t have to worry. The women were too busy to ask questions.

  The kitchen was cheerful chaos, and every surface was covered with utensils or prepared food. Lucy and Mrs. Wingate looked like they’d been standing over steaming pots for hours. Or rather, Lucy did. Her hair was in wispy curls about her face, and her apron was covered with fruit stains.

  Jecca thought she looked great and couldn’t help using her cell phone to snap a photo of her. While Tris was being given samples of everything they’d made, Jecca sent Lucy’s photo to her father. SUNDAY AT THE WINGATE HOUSE she wrote. She thought about sending a photo of Tristan but decided not to. That would send her dad into one of his interrogations about the man’s intentions.

  Stepping back, Jecca watched Tristan with the two women and saw how familiar they were with one another—and how the women adored him. Royal princes had never been treated so well. The women held out spoons and forks full of food for him to taste, bum t width=ttered pieces of bread, sliced-off cheese. Lucy got a plate and started filling it for him.

  “He’s their favorite toy,” Nell said, making Jecca laugh. “Could I see your drawings of the playhouse? Whenever you’re ready,” she added. It looked like she’d been told to be polite.

  “Sure,” Jecca said, but she looked with longing at the food that was everywhere. Most of it had been put into containers and the lids sealed. No one had mentioned when they were going to sit down to eat.

  Jecca started to the door, but Tris caught her arm.

  “You don’t want your plate?” He held out the food she thought had been assembled for him.

  “Why don’t you take it upstairs?” Lucy said. “Poor Nell has been waiting for hours. She’s dying to see the pictures you made. Don’t forget to take her into my sewing room and talk to her about curtains.”

  “And slipcovers,” Jecca said as she took the plate, smiling because she hadn’t been forgotten.

  Mrs. Wingate handed Nell two glasses of iced tea. “Let us know when you’ve packed your clothes and we’ll fill the cooler.”

  Smiling, Jecca gave a wave to Tristan—he was standing by the stove and eating—then she ran up the stairs, Nell right behind her.

  As soon as Jecca was out of the kitchen, the two women turned to look at Tristan, but he just kept eating.

  “So?” Mrs. Wingate said.

  “It’s good,” Tris said. “Not quite as spicy as last year’s batch but good. Maybe you should add a few more peppercorns.”

  “She’s not asking about the damned pickles,” Lucy said, “and you know it! We want to know about Jecca!”

  “My, my,” Tristan said as he used tongs to lift another piece of chicken out of the skillet. “You two are certainly feisty this morning. Well, let me see, three times Jecca and I—”

  “Tristan!”