reception, Jenna. Not a funeral.”
Glancing away, Jenna said, “Yes, I know. Beth’s happy today. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“And you don’t believe that’s possible?” he prodded.
“She has her heart set on adopting Christopher. I don’t know what she’d do if something went wrong.”
Tony followed the course of her gaze to the other side of the room. Beth chose that moment to look up, a smile stealing across her lips. He wondered if she had any idea what that smile of hers was doing to him. He was well schooled in what to do and what to think about to keep his desire from becoming obvious, but today it required all his concentration to accomplish such a feat. A need had been building in him for months, and there was only one way to satisfy it.
Without taking his eyes off Beth, he said, “If you’re trying to tell me not to hurt her, don’t bother. I intend to do my best to make her happy. Besides, what could possibly go wrong?”
Jenna sputtered something he couldn’t understand, then finished her tirade in English. “There’s nothing more frightening than a nonbeliever begging for trouble.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said sardonically, “while I try not to step on any cracks in the sidewalk or break any mirrors. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe it’s time to take my wife home.”
* * *
“The wedding was lovely, wasn’t it?”
Tony’s answer was a deep, mellow hum, just as it had been the first two times he’d answered the same question. If Beth had been alone, she would have pressed both hands to her face. But then, if she’d been alone, she wouldn’t have been repeating herself in a frantic effort to hold her nerves at bay.
This wasn’t the first time she’d taken the winding street that led to Tony’s house. It was, however, the first time she’d taken the route as Mrs. Anthony Petrocelli. Therein lay the problem.
Although today was the sixth of September, the day was still summer warm. People everywhere were sitting on porch swings and lawn chairs, lazily passing a pleasant afternoon. In contrast, Beth’s nerves were scrambling. When she and Tony had first left his parents’ house, she’d concentrated on taking one slow, easy breath, and then another. When that had failed to calm her, she’d tried to fill the quiet with inconsequential talk of everything from the weather to a bumper sticker that read Don’t Blame Me. I Voted Republican.
She’d turned her head at Tony’s throaty chuckle, the look deep in his eyes draining the laughter out of her chest. She knew what the look in his eyes meant. She’d been married before, after all.
Struggling for something, anything, to say, she peered straight ahead. “Do you see that road winding up the mountain?” she asked. “That leads to Jenna’s cabin.”
“How far up the mountain does she live?”
Thankful to have finally hit upon a safe topic, she said, “It’s a ten-minute jaunt the way the crow flies, but like they say here in the Rockies—”
“You can’t get there from here.” Their voices came in unison, his deep and husky, hers throaty and soft. There was something about the combination that replaced the nerves in her stomach with a warmth that seemed to have a life of its own.
Her emotions whirled; her thoughts spun. Staring at the sharp lines of his profile, she said, “Jenna claims that every time two people speak in unison, a wish is about to come true.”
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