Page 13 of Courting Catherine
“The Porcupine Islands,” Lilah put in, and passed him a silver basket of dinner rolls.
Coco watched them all like a hawk. She wanted to see some chemistry, some heat. Lilah was flirting with him, but she couldn’t be too hopeful about that. Lilah flirted with men in general, and she wasn’t paying any more attention to Trent than she did to the boy who bagged groceries in the market.
No, there was no spark there. On either side. One down, she thought philosophically, three to go.
“Trenton, did you know that Amanda is also in the hotel business? We’re all so proud of our Mandy.” She looked down the rosewood table at her niece. “She’s quite a businesswoman.”
“I’m assistant manager of the BayWatch, down in the village.” Amanda’s smile was both cool and friendly, the same she would give to any harried tourist at checkout time. “It’s not on the scale of any of your hotels, but we do very well during the season. I heard you’re adding an underground shopping complex to the St. James Atlanta.”
Coco frowned into her wine as they discussed hotels. Not only was there not a spark, there wasn’t even a weak glow. When Trent passed Amanda the mint jelly and their hands brushed, there was no breathless pause, no meeting of the eyes. Amanda had already turned to giggle with little Jenny and mop up spilled milk.
Ah, there! Coco thought triumphantly. Trent had grinned at Alex when the boy complained that brussels sprouts were disgusting. So, he had a weakness for children.
“You don’t have to eat them,” Suzanna told her suspicious son as he poked through his scalloped potatoes to make sure nothing green was hidden inside. “Personally, I’ve always thought they looked like shrunken heads.”
“They do, kinda.” The idea appealed to him, as his mother had known it would. He speared one, stuck it into his mouth and grinned. “I’m a cannibal. Uga bugga.”
“Darling boy,” Coco said faintly. “Suzanna’s done such a marvelous job of mothering. She seems to have a green thumb with children as well as flowers. All the gardens are our Suzanna’s work.”
“Uga bugga,” Alex said again as he popped another imaginary head into his mouth.
“Here you go, little creep.” C.C. rolled her vegetables onto his plate. “There’s a whole passel of missionaries.”
“I want some, too,” Jenny complained, then beamed at Trent when he passed her the bowl.
Coco put a hand to her breast. Who would have guessed it? she thought. Her Catherine. The baby of her babies. While the dinner conversation bounced around her, she sat back with a quiet sigh. She couldn’t be mistaken. Why, when Trent had looked at her little girl—and she at him—there hadn’t just been a spark. There had been a sizzle.
C.C. was scowling, it was true, but it was such apassionatescowl. And Trent had smirked, but it was such apersonalsmirk. Positively intimate, Coco decided.
Sitting there, watching them, as Alex devoured his little decapitated heads, and Lilah and Amanda argued over the possibility of life on other planets, Coco could almost hear the loving thoughts C.C. and Trent sent out to each other.
Arrogant, self-important jerk.
Rude, bad-tempered brat.
Who the hell does he think he is, sitting at the table as if he already owned it?
A pity she doesn’t have a personality to match her looks.
Coco smiled fondly at them while the “Wedding March” hummed through her head. Like a general plotting strategy, she waited until after coffee and dessert to spring her next offensive.
“C.C., why don’t you show Trenton the gardens?”
“What?” She looked up from her friendly fight with Alex over the last bite of her Black Forest cake.
“The gardens,” Coco repeated. “There’s nothing like a little fresh air after a meal. And the flowers are exquisite in the moonlight.”
“Let Suzanna take him.”
“Sorry.” Suzanna was already gathering a heavy-eyed Jenny into her arms. “I’ve got to get these two washed up and ready for bed.”
“I don’t see why—” C.C. broke off at the arched look from her aunt. “Oh, all right.” She rose. “Come on then,” she said to Trent and started out without him.
“It was a lovely meal, Coco. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She beamed, imagining whispered words and soft, secret kisses. “Enjoy the gardens.”
Trent walked out of the terrace doors to find C.C. standing, tapping a booted foot on the stone. It was time, he thought, that someone taught the green-eyed witch a lesson in manners.
