her attention again. “No baggage, Ms. Robinson?”
Baggage? She had plenty, of course, but Johnny wasn’t really inquiring about her relationship with Seth Spencer. She laughed again. “Do I look like a woman who travels without suitcases?”
He looked her over as if contemplating everything from her blue fingernail polish, to the decorative collar stenciled around her neck in henna, to her studded earlobes and clothes, then he chuckled. “Somehow I bet you’ve got more than one.”
“Please call me Jenna,” she corrected with a smile. “The things are in the car.” Pausing, she grinned down at Gretchen who was asleep on her shoulder. “I figure I’d better put this sleepy little rascal down first, though.”
And then Jenna would tell Seth Spencer she was pregnant.
Chapter Two
“Jenna couldn’t have stirred up Tyler, Wisconsin any more than this if she morphed into an Osterizer blender,” Seth murmured the next morning, staring through the open door of his private office toward the windows in the lobby. Deciding against shrugging into the muted brown suit jacket that matched his slacks, he ignored the hammering of his heart as she parallel parked in front of the bank. Or, more accurately, tried to parallel park.
Nervously, he knotted an olive tie that was neatly tucked under the collar of a white shirt he’d pressed himself. Six weeks hadn’t been enough time to adjust to not having Chinese laundries where he could drop off his shirts, but watching Jenna, he suddenly wished he’d done a better job of ironing his rumpled sleeves and cuffs. He looked the last way he wanted to—like a man desperately in need of a woman’s care.
Despite his apprehension—or, more accurately, hope about what Jenna was doing in Tyler—Seth smiled, taking in her seventh attempt to wedge the noisy, dented gold tank between Nora Gates Forrester’s new Miata roadster and Marge Phelps’s red Dodge truck. Jenna, who hadn’t yet realized she had a good six feet to spare, was now drawing a crowd on the sidewalk. “If more people show up, maybe I’ll sell popcorn and peanuts,” mused Seth. “Maybe even funnel cakes.”
Not that Jenna looked particularly pleased about having an audience. Knowing her, the Smashing Pumpkins or Nirvana were blasting from the radio, anyway, so she wouldn’t hear anybody coaching. Because of the way she was hunched over the wheel, turning it with all her might, Seth figured the Cadillac lacked power steering. As she painstakingly angled between the other two cars, she craned her head toward the child who was strapped in back, then whirled toward the windshield again.
Even from here, she looked so gorgeous that Seth’s breath caught. His heart clutched, too, not that his impenetrable features would allow anyone to guess it. He knew right then that Jenna Robinson wasn’t leaving his office until they made love on the smooth, polished mahogany surface of his desk. If the truth be told, he’d been fantasizing about that for weeks. A plan formed as he swept the work papers into a drawer. The second she came through the door, he’d kiss her senseless, pull her against his chest and hold her as if he’d never let go. Gently, he’d lift her, carry her to the desk and…
The more he thought about the countless things he wanted to do and say to her, the more Seth admitted he’d never wanted a woman so badly. “Unbelievable,” he whispered.
Jenna Robinson was really in Tyler, Wisconsin. Maybe she cared about him, after all. When he got to work this morning, he’d heard the news about her arrival, but he hadn’t really believed it. After the way his mother had left Tyler years ago, maybe he’d never fully believe a woman could care for him. Old emotions died hard, he guessed. The well-oiled Tyler gossip machine turned out to be right, though. After all, it wasn’t every day that a gold Cadillac lurched into Tyler.
This was the story Seth had gotten: Feeling naturally curious, Nora Gates Forrester had called Martha Bauer at Worthington House last night in hopes of finding out who the woman in the gold Cadillac was, since Martha usually knew everything. Martha couldn’t identify Jenna, however, so the two women conference-called Tisha, who was still at The Hair Affair. No one having their hair done had recognized Jenna, but after she checked into the boarding house, Anna Kelsey kindly called Lydia Perry, who then called Reverend Sarah Baron, who called Jenna at Kelsey’s to say her husband, Michael, wanted to look at the car muffler and to invite Jenna to Sunday services at the Tyler Fellowship Sanctuary—all of which meant that by the time Molly Blake arrived at the S&L this morning to discuss the loan for the bed-and-breakfast she wanted to open, he’d already found out from his brother that the new resident at Kelsey’s was Jenna.
“Jenna Robinson?” Seth had asked Molly anyway. As much as he hated gossip, he had been unable to stop himself from asking for more confirmation. “You’re sure, Molly?”
Molly had frowned as if suddenly terrified her loan might be jeopardized by her association with Jenna. “I hope that’s all right,” she’d said worriedly. “You did recommend her, didn’t you? I’m getting together with Jenna today, to discuss the promotional materials for the bed-and-breakfast…materials I’d hoped she could share with you tomorrow. I thought you two were friends…”
“We dated in New York,” Seth assured her.
Before he could remind Molly that he was a banker, not an ogre, Molly raced on, “Oh, good! Jenna sounded so nice on the phone, and she begged me to keep this news of her coming to Tyler a secret, so I did. I guess my saying so now doesn’t matter, since you know she’s here, but she wanted her arrival to be a surprise. She must simply adore you.” Molly lowered her voice. “And we all saw the cute little girl with her. She was strapped in the—”
“Back seat?” Seth had said, grinning but raising his eyes in surprise. “She’s about two? Chubby, with a big grin and squinched up nose? A spray of blond hair she keeps pulled back in bow-shaped barrettes?”
Molly giggled. “Sounds about right.”
“That’s Jenna’s boss’s daughter,” Seth hadn’t been able to stop himself from confiding, feeling eager for news of Jenna. Sure, he dreaded getting more deeply involved and courting the old, hurtful feelings left by his mother’s abandonment, but nothing more than hearing Jenna’s name practically did him in. It felt good in his mouth; speaking it reminded him of the dark, sensual hours they’d spent, and even now, he could almost feel her hair catching on his lips. “Jenna’s like a second mother to Gretchen,” he’d added with a frown, thinking of the child he’d come to know while dating Jenna. “It seems strange that she brought Gretchen here, though.”
“Oh,” Molly had laughed, blushing. “And here I was thinking the baby was—Oh, I don’t know what I was thinking, Mr. Spencer! I just guessed that maybe…”
Seth couldn’t help but catch Molly’s drift. “That the baby was mine?” A soft, startled chuckle had escaped his lips. The idea had taken him by surprise, but shouldn’t he have considered fatherhood before now? He was thirty-seven. Some men his age had kids who were heading off for college. If the truth be told, Seth liked the idea of kids; they were cute, funny and sweet. It was only women that worried him. “No wonder you want to open the Breakfast Inn Bed,” he’d managed to say aloud to Molly. “You’re obviously a romantic.”
“True, but the inn will be profitable,” Molly assured, her eyes narrowing as she continued surveying Seth. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but you’re right. I’m a romantic. Since you said you and Jenna dated in New York, maybe you should know that everybody took note of the wedding dress in the front seat of her car. Everybody wants to know if you two are…”
Somehow,
