the wide, slatted seat.
“Do you like my new dress?” she asked, smoothing her frilly pink skirt.
“You’re purty as a baby duck,” he drawled, winking.
Amy gave him a sidelong glance. “Are baby ducks pretty?”
“All babies are beautiful.”
As she considered his response, the breeze lifted blond bangs from her forehead, exposing a smattering of tiny freckles. Strange, but she looked more like Nadine than Adam or Julie.
“Do you think Grandmom is pretty?”
“Just between you and me,” he said, looking to see if the coast was clear, “I think she’s one of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.”
“Flattery will get you anywhere.”
He’d recognize that voice in a crowd at New York’s Penn Station. Straightening, he turned, hoping she’d blame the heat in his cheeks on the warm afternoon sunshine. “Nadine, how long have you been standing there?”
Hooking thumbs into her belt loops, she bobbled her head. “Exactly long enough.” Then, to Amy, “I’m gonna cut the cake soon, sweetie. Better wash your hands!”
In the blink of an eye, the child was halfway across the yard. “Don’t worry, Grandmom,” she hollered over her shoulder, “I won’t slam the door on the way inside.”
“Good girl!” Nadine called back. She cast a glance at Lamont. “She’s a pistol, that granddaughter of mine.”
“It’s in the DNA, I reckon,” he said, chuckling as the back door banged shut. “Time to cut the cake, you say?”
Nodding, she began walking toward the paper-covered folding table that held an assortment of desserts. “How long did you know about this shindig?”
“Since yesterday afternoon, when Adam called to invite me.”
“That’s what everyone has been saying. He pulled this thing together awfully fast.”
“I got the impression it was Julie who did most of the organizing. And it’s high time you learned to let people do nice things for you once in a while.”
He’d learned decades ago that Nadine didn’t accept compliments well, that she preferred giving to taking.
“This is Adam’s home. Julie and Amy’s, too. I’m thrilled to have them here, even if it is only temporary.”
“Is it?”
Her brow furrowed as she hung her head and sighed heavily. “I hope so. They have some serious money troubles, but…” She bit her lower lip. “Grace Mevers says I should open the presents, but I’d rather not.”
Lamont chose not to press her for more details. Her kids’ financial situation was none of his business, after all. “Because you want to open them after the cake and ice cream?”
“I don’t want to open them at all, because what about those folks who couldn’t afford to bring a gift? This was so last-minute. And everybody’s lives are so busy. Surely some people didn’t have time to bring a gift.” She exhaled a sigh. “I’d hate for anyone to feel uncomfortable.”
Lamont chuckled and, draping an arm over her shoulders, fell into step beside her. “Nadine Greene,” he said, kissing her temple, “you know what your biggest problem is?”
“I don’t like birthday parties?”
“Nope.”
She looked up at him, a half grin on her face as one brow rose with teasing suspicion. “What?”
“Your heart is bigger than your head, that’s what. And I love that about you.”
He felt her stiffen against him when he said that, and for a reason he couldn’t explain, it cut him to the quick. “Just so you’ll know, I intend to be the last guest to leave.”
“Oh?”
He loved the way she moved her delicate hands and batted those thick eyelashes. Fact was, he loved a lot of things about her—things he hadn’t really noticed until lately. “Because,” he said, “I have something for you. It’s in the truck.”
A little gasp passed her lips as her eyes widened. “Lamont, you didn’t have to—”
“I know. I wanted to.”
She glanced at her watch, and he could almost read her mind: In an hour, maybe two, the party would be over and she’d be faced with Lamont and his gift. Alone.
Would that really be so terrible?
Her friend, Grace, stood grinning alongside the rest of the partygoers, ready to strike a big kitchen match. “Don’t light all those candles,” Nadine warned. “They’ll see the smoke all the way in town and send the fire department!”
Time dragged for the rest of the afternoon, and he wondered how she’d behave when her guests had all gone home. Would she treat him with welcoming warmth, as she had the night when they walked hand in hand around her yard, or with aloofness, as she had on the phone the night after?
Lamont shook his head and focused on the friends and neighbors who’d gathered around her. They pressed close, singing a loud, off-key rendition of the birthday song.
Everyone but Lamont.
There she stood, glowing brighter than the candles on her cake, blue eyes wide and smile sparkling, looking more gorgeous than any woman had a right to. And here he stood, admitting, finally, that he wanted to be more than her friend and neighbor.
A whole lot more.
Chapter Four
With the sunset, the last of Nadine’s guests crunched down her narrow gravel drive. As she’d thanked them for the birthday gifts and wished each one a safe trip home, Lamont sat in a rocker on her front porch, her sleeping granddaughter cuddled in his arms.
He couldn’t say exactly when Amy had crawled into his lap, toting a shaggy purple teddy bear. Lamont glanced down at her rosy cheeks and grinned. Long enough for his arm to go numb, anyway. The dull ache seemed small by comparison to the warmth swirling in his heart. It had been a long time since he’d held his own girls this way, and much as he loved what wonderful women they had become, he missed moments like these.
Amy’s steady, restful breaths soothed him. Heavy-lidded himself, Lamont leaned his head against the chair back and closed his eyes. When she sighed and snuggled closer, instinct made him press a soft kiss to her temple.
“If this isn’t a Norman Rockwell moment, I don’t know what is.”
Without opening his eyes, he slurred drowsily, “I’d rather it was a Maxwell House moment.”
“There’s bound to be some left in the coffeepot. Want me to pour you a cup?”
Lamont
