Touched by Angels (Angels Everywhere #3)(93)

Jenny hadn’t contacted him since he’d left New York, not that he’d expected she would.

Pausing in the hallway, Trey picked up the box of fancy chocolates he’d bought for Jenny’s mother. He figured every woman deserved a box of expensive French candies one time in her life. Besides, he owed Paula.

The Lancaster house was bright with outside lights. Trey never could pull into their yard and not think of Jenny. The tightness around his heart felt almost physical as he climbed down from his truck and headed inside.

His timing was perfect. Charlie, Jenny’s brother, and his fiancée, Mary Lou, were carrying serving dishes to the dining room table.

“Hello, Trey. Welcome.” Paula kissed him on the cheek. Trey tucked the chocolates under the tree and shook Dillon’s hand.

“Think it’ll snow?” Dillon asked. It was the same question his friend proposed every Christmas Eve.

“Not this year,” Trey told him, knowing it would disappoint Dillon.

The smells coming from the kitchen were tantalizing enough to convince a confirmed bachelor to find a wife.

Dillon offered him a glass of hot wassail, but Trey declined. He didn’t figure there was enough time to finish it before dinner was served.

“Mom, are these the linen napkins you were looking for earlier?” a soft voice asked from the vicinity of the hallway.

It was a good thing Trey hadn’t been holding a drink. Sure as hell, he would have dropped it. The voice he heard belonged to Jenny. She paused momentarily when she walked into the room. “Hello, Trey. Merry Christmas.”

Trey felt as if someone had knocked him behind the knees with a baseball bat. He stared at Dillon. “What’s Jenny doing home?”

Dillon looked well pleased. “You’ll have to ask her that yourself.”

Trey intended on doing exactly that. He followed her into the kitchen and stood behind her while she dished up a mound of steaming mashed potatoes.

“When did you arrive?” he asked.

“This morning.” She answered him as though there were a hundred other more important items occupying her mind at that moment. “I do need to talk to you, however. I didn’t take kindly to your leaving New York without saying good-bye.”

“Trey, would you mind putting the relish plate on the table?” Paula asked.

“In a minute.” He wasn’t budging until he had the answer he wanted.

“The potatoes are ready,” Jenny announced, and handed the bowl to her brother, who promptly delivered them to the table.

“What about the play?” Trey insisted.

“What about it?”

“I thought you said the rehearsals started before Christmas.”

“They did.” Jenny dipped her finger inside the gravy boat and licked it clean. “Mom, this is your best ever.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Charlie returned, and Trey handed Jenny’s brother the relish dish. He followed Jenny to the other side of the kitchen. “Shouldn’t you be there?” he asked.

“Where?”

He figured she was being deliberately obtuse, and it irritated him no end. “Practicing,” he said louder than he intended.

“Not really,” she mumbled, then said to her mother, “As far as I can see, everything’s on the table.”

“Great. Call your father and we’ll sit down.”

“Dinner,” Jenny called, and the family started to gather around the dining room table.

“Jenny.” Trey’s hand on her arm stopped her. Silently he pleaded with her to tell him what was going on. “Why aren’t you in New York?”

“You honestly don’t know?”

Baffled, he shook his head.

“I’m marrying you, Trey. We’ve got the next fifty years to discuss all this, but right now dinner is getting cold.” She left him standing in the middle of her mother’s kitchen with his mouth sagging open so far, it damn near bounced against the floor.

By the time he’d recovered enough to walk into the dining room, everyone was seated and waiting for him.

“Trey, would you care to say grace?”

Everyone looked to him, but for the life of him Trey couldn’t take his eyes off Jenny long enough to do as her mother requested.

“It seems Trey’s otherwise occupied,” Dillon said, chuckling. “I’ll be happy to say the blessing.”

The Lancaster family bowed their heads while Dillon offered up a short prayer of thanksgiving. When he’d finished, he looked to Trey. “Sit down, Trey. Your place is directly across from Jenny. Once you’re seated, would you kindly pass the mashed potatoes?”

Trey was certain he gave them all a good laugh. The first thing he did was pour gravy over the sweet potatoes. He couldn’t help it. Nothing could make him stop staring at Jenny. He doubted he ate two bites of the entire dinner.

Twice she looked up and smiled, and it was damn near all he could do not to reach for her right there.

“I’d appreciate a few minutes alone with Jenny after dinner,” he said, looking to her parents.

“You don’t need our permission,” Dillon responded. “Jenny makes her own decisions.”

An eternity passed before the meal was over. Jenny tormented him during dessert by licking the whipped cream off the back of her fork—her eyes locked on him the entire time.