Part 16 (1/2)
The lie came easily off Annie's lips. Normally, he'd expect seeing someone make up such falsehoods so easily would be a turn-off. Instead, he wanted to commend her for being so quick on her feet. The gleam of humor in her eyes over their shared secret amused him to no end.
She was good at this subterfuge thing. One of James Bond's babes couldn't have been any more creative.
Sean smothered a sigh, thinking of the Bond Bond thing. That had come up almost as soon as he'd arrived. And again at least once an hour since. thing. That had come up almost as soon as he'd arrived. And again at least once an hour since.
Why, oh why, could Americans not hear the difference between an Irish accent and an English one?
”Being friends with someone you date is a very smart idea,” Mrs. Davis said, nodding in approval. ”Sooner or later the blind excitement wears off and it's nice to be with someone you actually like like when it does.” when it does.”
The paper shook slightly, and Mr. Davis's voice emerged from behind it. ”Blind excitement...riiiight.”
Judging by his long, deep sighs whenever the subject of tonight's anniversary party came up, Mr. Davis wasn't quite the romantic his wife was. He seemed the type to keep his head down and his mouth closed, obviously used to doing just that after thirty-five years of marriage to such a powerful woman.
Right now, he also seemed to be completely distracted and separate from the conversation going on around him. But Sean had no illusions that the man was paying very careful attention to his daughter and the new guy.
”Sean was just so nice and charming, we hit it off from the minute we met,” Annie said, holding her mother's gaze with complete innocence.
She wasn't lying, not at all. They had had hit it off right away. Only, it had happened five days ago. Not eight months ago. hit it off right away. Only, it had happened five days ago. Not eight months ago.
Having lived in his own veil of half-truths, and knowing the benefits of discretion, he didn't hold it against her. Just because Sean liked her family so far, that didn't mean he hadn't seen exactly exactly what she'd been warning him about from the minute her oldest brother had rapped him on the back of the head. what she'd been warning him about from the minute her oldest brother had rapped him on the back of the head.
They were close-knit, incredibly protective, and while well-mannered, there had been more than one under-the-breath comment about Sean ”stealing” their little girl away. As if he had anything to do with her having left home, what was it, five five years ago? years ago?
The nonstop commentary about friends, family and neighbors and the not-very-subtle a.s.sumption that Annie would be back when she got over her ”little adventure” was grating on him after two hours. He simply couldn't imagine what it was like for her each and every time she spoke to any of them.
No, he didn't blame her for her tiny white lies. If his presence here could get them to at least address the possibility that Annie might not not be moving home, next year, or the following one at the very latest, then he was very glad to do it. be moving home, next year, or the following one at the very latest, then he was very glad to do it.
”What was she dressed as?” Randy asked. Annie's youngest brother was a typical gangly twenty-year-old, all arms, legs and mouth, with a s.h.a.ggy head full of blond hair. He yucked it up asking, ”Lemme guess-Little Orphan Annie? That's what I used to call her.”
Mrs. Davis was walking by the table to refill a platter of waffles and she paused midstride to thwack her youngest son on the head with the back of her hand. ”And what would that make your father and me if your sister was an orphan?” She then made the sign of the cross and mumbled what sounded like a prayer before proceeding to the stove.
Sean made no effort to hide his smile.
”Actually, she looked wonderful,” he told her brother, wondering if Annie recognized the mischief in his tone. ”She was a bunny.”
Randy snorted. ”Yeah, right, Annie a Playboy Playboy bunny?” bunny?”
Seeing her mother swing around in dismay, and Mr. Davis lower the newspaper and frown, Sean quickly shook his head. ”Heavens, no. Annie wore a big, pink, fuzzy thing with floppy ears and painted on whiskers.” He winked at her. ”She was quite adorable.”
Her glare promised retribution. Her words delivered it. ”Oh, yes, and Sean was dressed up as Fred Flint-stone. He looked very macho as a caveman. Can't you just see the resemblance?”
Caveman? Heaven forbid. But, fair was fair. He couldn't really expect her to describe him as a s.e.xy Zorro or wicked pirate when he'd painted such a vivid picture of her bouncing about as the Easter Bunny.
”That does sound macho,” Mrs. Davis said with a grin as she returned to the table, carrying a fresh pot of coffee. ”Are you sure you won't have some, Sean?”
”Sean drinks tea, Mom.”
Good memory.
”But Annie drinks enough coffee for both of us,” he said, laughing and giving her an intimate look. ”Takes a lot to get her going in the morning.”
Her eyes widened into twin saucers. He immediately backpedaled.
”If I call her before she's had her second cup of the day, she sounds as though she's sleepwalking.”
Good save, she mouthed when her mother turned to reach for the sugar bowl. she mouthed when her mother turned to reach for the sugar bowl.
When she turned back around, sprinkling a spoonful of sugar into her cup, Mrs. Davis casually murmured, ”You know, Annie, I'd been meaning to ask you.” Her barely interested tone didn't fool Sean one bit. He prepared himself for whatever was coming, already realizing Mrs. Davis was far more intuitive than any of the male members of the family. ”I was certain you'd said Sean's name was something else when you first mentioned him to me on the phone.”
Beside him, Annie stiffened in her chair. Sean reached over and dropped a hand on her bare leg, the intimate touch hidden from view by the dish-laden table. He had had this one. this one.
”We have cute nicknames for each other,” he said. ”Maybe that's what you remember.”
Her mother didn't look convinced.
”What's Annie's?” Randy asked.
Her hand dropped to cover the one he had on her leg, squeezing him threateningly. Her sudden glare promised extreme retribution. He sensed that if he told her family he called her Honey Bunny or Flopsy Ears-which, as nauseating as they sounded, made sense given the way they'd supposedly supposedly met-she'd crown him with the platter of congealing fried ham. met-she'd crown him with the platter of congealing fried ham.
And if he called her his little cottontail, her father might.
”I call her ceadsearc, ceadsearc,” he murmured. Wanting to rea.s.sure her that everything was fine, he couldn't resist lifting her hand and brus.h.i.+ng his lips across her fingers. ”It means sweetheart.”
The father retreated behind the newspaper again. The twenty-year-old snickered with typical youthful disdain of anything the slightest bit mushy.
But the mother? She stared at their joined hands, obviously noted the warm, grateful look in Annie's eye-and the tender one Sean couldn't contain, and said, ”How lovely.”
And Sean knew he'd won over the most important person in the house.
He lowered his hand to the surface of the table, keeping his fingers wound with Annie's. ”That she is.”
Mrs. Davis smiled at him, slowly nodded, then looked away. Before she did so, he'd swear he saw moisture in her eyes. Though, he had to be mistaken. Didn't mothers want their daughters to find men who truly cared about them?
Maybe. But in this case, with a mother who wanted her daughter to give up her dreams and come home...maybe not. But in this case, with a mother who wanted her daughter to give up her dreams and come home...maybe not.
”So, sad-sac,” Randy asked, mangling the endearment, ”what's yours for him?”
Annie wrinkled her nose at the younger man. ”It's Noneya. As in none-ya business. Now go away and do some push-ups or something before you overtax your brain with all this adult conversation.”
”Can't. Gotta get ready for the game.”
Beside him, he felt Annie stiffen, even before she said a word. His guard immediately went up.
”No.”
”Oh, yeah, it's Sat.u.r.day.”