Claire Knows Best by Tracey Bateman

Author:Tracey Bateman [BATEMAN, TRACEY]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780446558976
Publisher: FaithWords
Published: 2009-05-30T04:00:00+00:00

That night I force myself to get ready and drive the kids to church when what I really want to do is crawl into bed and pretend the last three weeks haven’t occurred. No tornado, no stupid apartment where partying is keeping me up all night. Not to mention how worried I am about my daughter being so close to that environment.

As soon as I walk through the church doors, I’m able to set all of that aside. I’m glad I came. The band is warming up, and the atmosphere is charged with energy. Just what I need.

Shawn moves ahead of me to find a friend to sit with in the section of the church designated for kids his age. He’s still sulking, and hasn’t spoken more than two words to me all afternoon, but he’ll get over it.

Ari and Tommy head off in their own directions, as does Jakey. I find myself alone and glancing about trying to find a place to sit. And okay, I admit I’m not only looking for a seat. I’m hoping for a glimpse of Greg.

“Claire?”

Not Greg, but definitely a man’s voice. I look up into the handsome face of Van Collins.

I gulp. In the few hours since I’ve seen the man, I’ve forgotten how gorgeous he is. He flashes that Matthew McConaughey grin and all I can think to say is “Oh, hi!” Like I’m pretending I don’t remember he said he’d be here. “Where’s Linda?”

“Trish is sick, so she stayed home to play Florence Nightingale.” I’m trying to feel sorry for Trish, but my head is a little woozy from watching his pullover Polo shirt strain against his carpenter-muscled pecs and biceps. Hmmm, Trish who?

Someone brushes past me and I jerk to my senses. I’ve had enough experience with guys talking to my chest that I force my gaze to meet his amazing green eyes. “So, um, Linda’s sick? I’ll have to give her a call.” Man, I’d give anything to just slide my gaze back to those sleek, tanned arms. Stop it!

“Trish.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Trish is the one who is sick. Not Linda.”

Ohh, that’s right. The daughter.

“So, where are you sitting?” He flashes a boyish grin and I know doggone well he’s fully aware of his effect on me. Probably on every female of any age. He knows how to handle himself in this situation.

I scan the seats and find an empty row. “Over there.”

“Let’s go.” His warm palm cups my elbow as he leads me to my seat. Then he just stands there. It suddenly dawns on me that he has every intention of sitting with me.

Horror clutches my heart as the music begins, signaling the start of the service. I jerk around to the front and lock onto Greg. I want to die. He’s holding his mike and standing, frozen at center stage. Staring at me. And I know he just missed his cue to start the song. I try to convey my deepest apology by my silent gaze. Folks will assume I’m already dating.

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