A Family of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #3)(25)
Author: Brenda Novak

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and leaned against the wall, chewing on his damn toothpick. “It’s nice,” he said indifferently.

Her ego could’ve used something better than nice. Or maybe “nice” with a little more enthusiasm would’ve worked. As it was, he made her feel like a woman who’d lost whatever looks she’d once possessed.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, she swallowed a sigh. “I’ll manage with what I have.”

She started back into the dressing room, but he caught her by the arm. “Buy it,” he said, and this time his voice, if not his words, held some kind of meaning. Their eyes met, and warmth spread through Katie, starting at the point where he held her arm.

“Your wife might like this.” The saleswoman came around the corner, holding an A-line skirt with a matching gray jacket, and Booker immediately let Katie go. Katie expected him to set the woman straight on the nature of their relationship, but he didn’t. Silently taking the clothes, he handed them to her, then went out to wait, sitting on one of the benches in front of the store.

KATIE GAZED AT THE BAGS of clothes and shoes piled in the chairs on either side of her at the food court. She’d tried to hold back, to save some of her money for later, but Booker had insisted she needed this and had better get that. Now she was the proud owner of two pairs of maternity pants, two blouses, a dress, a sweater, a pair of loafers, some maternity underwear, two giant-size bras—and only enough money to buy pizza.

A purple lingerie sack sat closest to her. She chuckled as she fingered the delicate ribbon handle, remembering Booker’s reaction to what was inside. He hadn’t been very impressed with her new underwear, which were plain white panties and looked as though a regular woman could pull them over her head. But he’d grinned in appreciation at the bras. Holding one up, he’d lazily slid the toothpick in his mouth over to one side, gazed directly at her chest, and said, “Are you sure this can handle the job?”

She’d slugged him in the arm so he wouldn’t know that his sultry look had made her heart race, and pretended to buy bras that were as utilitarian as her underwear. But when he wasn’t watching, she’d purchased the lacy ones he preferred, and thanked whatever kind soul had found it in her heart to design something in a large size that was actually a little flattering. Katie was finding it increasingly important to feel pretty once in a while.

Like now, she thought dully, frowning as a curvy blonde hopped into line behind Booker. Shapely and attractive, she had ankles that wouldn’t be swelling with water retention in the near future, and she was looking Booker over as though she might have him for dinner.

Of course she’d like what she saw. There wasn’t much about Booker not to like, at least physically.

Folding her arms on her stomach, Katie took a deep breath and willed away the sudden tension knotting her muscles. What was wrong with her? Booker was only a…a friend, for lack of a better title. He had every right to flirt with or date whomever he pleased. But the thought of Booker making love to this Daisy Duke lookalike in the room next to hers stole Katie’s appetite. She hoped she wouldn’t be around if and when it came to that—

“Are you okay?”

Katie glanced up to see an old woman sitting at a nearby table, wearing an expression of concern.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“For a moment there, you looked so unhappy.”

Katie consciously replaced the glower on her face with her best stab at a smile. “It—it was just something I was thinking. I’m actually doing great. Better than great.” Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Daisy Duke open her purse and write down something that was apparently being dictated to her by Booker, and Katie felt her smile wilt. Getting up, she asked the kind lady sitting next to her to watch her packages, and marched over to them.

Booker raised his eyebrows when he saw her bearing down on them, and motioned to the left. “The rest rooms are that way, remember?”

She knew exactly where the rest rooms were. Much to his irritation, she’d been there several times already. “I don’t need to go right now,” she said. “I just…I came over to tell you that…” Her eyes slid to the blonde and she tried to ascertain whether Daisy was as pretty up close as she seemed from far away.

Katie was minimally relieved to discover that the woman had a rather big nose and slightly crooked teeth, but her hair was a beautiful honey color and her figure was quite stunning. Even up close.

“What?” Booker prompted, drawing Katie’s attention back to him.

“I’d like a salad with my pizza.”

“You just told me you didn’t want a salad.”

“That’s why I came over. I changed my mind.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Is—is this your wife?” Daisy asked, glancing from one to the other.

Booker removed his toothpick. “I don’t have a wife. This is my…roommate.”

“And his good friend,” Katie added.

“I see. So you two aren’t…I mean you don’t—”

“No,” Booker said.

“Oh.” She giggled in obvious relief and stuck out her hand to shake with Katie. “I’m Chevy.”

“Chevy?” Katie repeated. “You mean like the car?”

“Yeah. It’s just a nickname. My real name is Chevelle.”

“Chevelle’s pretty,” Booker said, then looked pointedly at Katie. “Anything else?”

She blinked. “Hmm?”

“Did you need anything else?”

“Oh…no. Just a salad, that’s all.”

“Fine. You might want to go sit down and get off your feet.”

“Right, in a second.” Katie glanced back at Chevy. “So where are you from?”

“Cedar Ridge. It’s only about fifteen miles from Dundee. I was just telling Booker that I drive out that way all the time to visit my stepfather.”

“What a small world,” Katie said.

“I was thinking I might stop by some time. Booker gave me your address and telephone number.”

“We’d love to have you, wouldn’t we, Kate?” Booker said.

Katie straightened her spine and pasted on another false smile. “You bet.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

KATIE NEVER FELT CLOSER to heaven than when sitting in a cool, dark theatre, eating buttery popcorn and drinking a large, ice-cold Coke. But somehow her movie experience just wasn’t the same tonight. She was wearing her brand-new clothes, which meant she could breathe easily for the first time in a long while. Yet she couldn’t concentrate on the picture.