My Name is Nell. Laura Abbot
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Название: My Name is Nell
Автор: Laura Abbot
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781472025296
isbn:
He cursed under his breath. For years he’d pretty much been able to fend off such memories, feeding on his resentment and losing himself in work until forgetfulness became a habit.
What was Nell Porter doing to him anyway? Whatever it was felt way too much like pecking away at his armor. Yet he was drawn to her in ways that made no sense. All he knew was that he felt better when he was around her.
He sat up, drained the soda, punched the Play button on the machine and listened to Carl’s edgy voice fill him in on the latest emergency at L&S TechWare.
He should respond. Immediately. Regrettably, that wasn’t a priority.
NELL HAD GIVEN IN and gone shopping with Lily. Down deep, she valued her sister’s advice. Lily’s taste was impeccable. The floral print wraparound skirt and filmy lavender blouse were on sale and, as Lily insisted, were Nell’s “colors.” Nell had to admit she’d been flattered by the lift of Brady’s eyebrows when he picked her up Saturday evening.
Light from the fading sun filtered through the ancient oaks and dappled the manicured lawn as Nell led Brady to the back gate of Lily’s house. Stella, Evan’s mother and father, and several other couples were already there, clustered around the hors d’oeuvres table set up on the flagstone patio. In a far corner of the yard, Abby corralled Chase. Without consulting Nell, Lily had invited Abby to baby-sit with Chase and spend the night. The obviousness of her maneuver would be amusing if it wasn’t so darn uncomfortable. Nell disliked being the focus of Lily’s expectations.
“Here’s Nell.” Her mother broke away from the guests and came toward them, a fixed smile on her face. “And you must be Brady,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Nell’s mother, Stella Janes.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Brady said. “Nell has made me feel most welcome in Arkansas.”
“I’m glad to hear my daughter represents the best of Southern hospitality.”
“You taught me well,” Nell murmured.
Stella tucked her arm through Brady’s. “Come meet Lily’s husband and the others.”
Trailing the pair, Nell sought to unfist her hands, aware of the tension riddling her. This was no big deal, yet she knew her family. They would make something out of nothing. She glanced across the yard and her heart sank. Oblivious to Chase tugging on her shorts, Abby was watching Brady’s progress to the patio with narrowed eyes and thinned lips.
Somehow Nell made it through the introductions, ignoring the questioning looks some of the women angled at Brady and her. From the cooler Brady picked out a beer and a soda. “Which would you prefer, Nell?”
Before she could answer, Lily slipped in between them. “My sister doesn’t drink.”
Nell winced. Would Brady pick up on the pointedness of the remark or was she simply overreacting?
Brady handed Nell the soda, then smiled at the two women. “I don’t either, except for an occasional beer.”
After Lily excused herself, Brady looked down at Nell, his eyes soft. “I like your family. Nice people.”
Nell tore her gaze from him and glanced around. “Yes. They are.” Then she noticed Abby sitting in a swing, holding Chase in her lap. The girl’s eyes were fixed everywhere but on Nell. “Brady, I’d like you to meet my daughter.” She started walking toward Abby, confident Brady was following. “Abby, this is—” When she turned to include him in the introduction, he wasn’t right behind her as she’d expected. He had stopped several feet away and his face had gone pale. “—Brady Logan,” Nell finished lamely.
As if shaking off a trance, he ran a hand through his hair and approached the swing set. “Hello,” he said in a husky voice.
Abby gave him a brief glance, then continued swinging. “’Lo.”
Nell stepped forward, took hold of the ropes and brought the swing to a stop. “Brady recently moved here from California,” she said in a voice full of a mind-your-manners undertone.
“I know.” Abby’s stony face had softened not one iota. “Grandma told me.”
Nell could only wonder what other tidbits Stella had seen fit to divulge. She turned helplessly to Brady. “And this is Chase, Lily’s son,” she said running a hand over the toddler’s curly hair.
“Hi, Chase.”
The boy ducked his head into Abby’s shirt. Abby continued to stare at her mother in sullen defiance.
“What grade are you in, Abby?”
Slowly Abby turned to Brady. “Eighth.”
Brady’s voice sounded strangled. “Hope you enjoy the year.”
Nell was missing something. It was as if Brady, usually confident and assured in social situations, had become a tongue-tied adolescent himself.
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