“No.” She smiled tightly. “I don’t mind at all.” They entered the kitchen and turned toward the family room, which was to the left.
Gloria sat on a deep leather sofa the color of cured tobacco, a tremulous smile on her face. She wore a simple black dress with a single strand of pearls that she rolled between her fingers nervously. Her long
hair was pulled off her face and pinned loosely on top of her head. She looked elegant and beautiful and every bit the mother that Raine used to dream about. But those days were long gone.
The woman on the sofa was a stranger.
Raine nodded at Gloria but remained silent as she glanced at Jake, who was a few feet away, near the wall of glass.
He stood in the corner by the fireplace, hands shoved into the pockets of faded jeans, expression guarded as he looked in her direction. His wide shoulders were dressed in a slate-gray-blue sweater with a white collared shirt beneath it. His stance said casual, but the darkness in his eyes and the firm set to his mouth screamed anything but…
What happened to you Jake? What happened to us?
Gibson sat at his feet, wagging his tail as if Jake Edwards was his entire world, and a shot of resentment rifled through Raine.
Traitor dog.
“You must be Raine.”
Startled, she tore her gaze from Jake and turned around. A tall, willowy, blonde thing—one who belonged on the pages of a fashion magazine, not standing in the middle of the Edwardses’ kitchen—had spoken. As if the Red Sea itself had parted for her, the woman stood alone, and Raine swore that the only beam of sunlight to appear all day broke through the clouds and filtered in through the windows—just for one second—to halo her head in a ring of golden glory.
Crystal-blue eyes stared at her from a face that could only be described as perfection. Cold perfection, mind you, but flawless nonetheless. It looked as though a zit had never had the audacity to grace her chin. Long hair hung in perfectly coiled waves down her right shoulder—artfully arranged that way, no doubt. The dress she wore was stunning, a perfectly molded black creation with a plunging neckline that showed off every curve—and the curves, they were substantial. The woman was a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Barbie, truly every man’s dream.
Apparently, Jake’s dream.
Raine disliked her on sight, which might not have been fair, but there it was.
The blonde arched an eyebrow, as if sensing Raine’s feelings, and a smile stole over her features—one that showed off plump Playboy lips and a row of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. Fake. Fake and fake.
She looked familiar, and a tingle of apprehension wove its way down Raine’s spine.
“Oh, my goodness. Where are my manners?” Marnie tugged her forward and nodded. “Raine, this is Lily, Jake’s friend.”
The woman—Lily—held her hand toward Raine as if she were a queen and Raine was the damn maid. She ignored the hand, and the smile on Lily’s face widened like the one on the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. She withdrew her scarlet-tipped fingers and bingo, a lightbulb lit up in Raine’s mind.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
She glanced over at Jake. What the hell was he thinking?
“Lily…your last name is St. Clare, if I’m not mistaken?” Raine asked sweetly as she accepted a glass of pinot noir from her mother-in-law.
The blonde’s eyes narrowed at Raine’s tone; a slight tightening pulled at her mouth, but it was gone in an instant. She nodded coolly. Diamonds sparkled at her ears, peeking through the silken sheets of hair, and they shimmered like raindrops breaking on water.
“Of the Boston St. Clares?” Raine added.
Again, another tight nod. The woman was uncomfortable. Good.
Raine smiled toward Jake once more. “I can’t wait to hear how our very own Jake Edwards from lil’ old Crystal Lake managed to hook up with one of the St. Clare sisters.” She paused. “So which one are you anyway? The one who’s famous or the one who’s infamous?”
Lily was silent for a moment, her eyes glassy like newly frozen ice. Raine held her gaze. She wasn’t a pushover, some backwoods country girl in awe of the big-city trust-fund baby.
“Neither.” Lily didn’t elaborate and Raine pursed her lips wondering…just how many St. Clare sisters were there?
“Well, then.” Marnie spoke quickly as if sensing the tension and nodded toward the dining room. “Franklin’s ready, so let’s eat!”
Raine watched Steven and her mother, Gloria, follow in Marnie’s steps, while Lily glanced toward Jake, nodded slightly, and then followed suit.
Jake joined her in the kitchen, eyes hard and mouth set into a firm line that told her a bunch of stuff she didn’t want to know.