“Have some more roast beef,” Martha Sinclair, a slender, attractive woman, with salt-and-pepper gray hair, urged her son.
Jack sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand against his lean, flat stomach. “Mom, I can’t. I’m stuffed.”
“You’re too thin,” she scolded, eyeing him with concern. “When’s the last time you had a decent meal?”
He grinned. “The last time I came home for a visit.”
“See what I mean?” She picked up a bowl of vegetables. “Have some more potatoes. They’ll stick to your ribs.”
“Mom, dinner was great,” he said firmly. “But I couldn’t possible eat another bite.”
Her brown eyes widened in alarm. “Well, I hope you left some room for dessert. I made your favorite, apple pie.”
His father, a tall man with silvering hair and an easy smile, chuckled from his seat across the kitchen table.
Jack moaned. “Mom, all you’ve done is feed me since I walked through the door.”
“I can’t help it.” She stood, whisking away empty plates from the dinner table. “Mothers are supposed to nurture their young.” Narrowing an admonishing glance, she added, “Even their prodigal sons. Do you know that I see less of you now that you’ve moved back home, than I did when you lived in Chicago?”
Jack sighed. The lecture he’d been expecting since he’d walked in the door of his parent’s house had finally arrived. He was just surprised his mother had waited until after dinner to deliver it.
“Now, Martha, leave the boy alone.” His father shot him a commiserative look. “He’s only been back in town a few weeks. What with starting a new job and moving into a new apartment, I’m sure he’s been busy.”
Guiltily, Jack sank a bit lower in his chair. Having his father defend his neglectful behavior made him feel even worse. His dad was right, however. He was busy. As the newest partner in a downtown St. Louis law firm, he’d been working hard to acclimate himself to the position. But one of the reasons prompting his recent career move had been his desire to be closer to family and friends.
While working in Chicago, he’d been on the verge of burnout. When he’d left, he’d vowed to enjoy life more and to concentrate on work less. It would seem old habits were hard to break.
Four years ago, fresh out of law school, he’d joined a large firm in Chicago. He’d been idealistic, ready to take on the world. His idealism had been put to the test almost from the get go, when he’d stumbled upon a case that no one else seemed anxious to tackle.
The case had involved a family who’d been exposed to toxic waste as a result of runoff from a chemical plant located in their small, hometown outside of Chicago.
The owners of the company—in an effort to avoid bad publicity—had offered to settle out of court. Against the advisement of his firm’s senior law partners, but following the wishes of his client, Jack chose to take the chemical company to court—and had won. The damages awarded the family set new records in the Illinois court system.
But instead of feeling victorious, Jack had felt exhausted. The case had consumed the better part of four years of his life, during which time he’d spent excruciatingly long hours at the office. As his law career blossomed his social life had become almost nonexistent. The physical and emotional stress of the case had taken its toll. He’d begun to feel isolated, alone, dissatisfied with the direction his personal life had taken.
The offer of a partnership in a small but prestigious firm in downtown St. Louis couldn’t have come at a better time. As a partner, he could pick and choose cases he felt had merit. Moving back home, being close to family and friends, had sounded like a dream come true. He glanced at his parents. Only now, he was beginning to question the wisdom of his decision.
At twenty-eight, he’d been living on his own for nearly ten years. Ten years of not having to account for his comings and goings. And in just a few weeks of being home, he felt as if he were stuck in a time warp, being expected at family dinners, receiving daily phone calls. How could he explain to his mother that he had grown up? That he couldn’t always be available, no matter how much he loved them?
The doorbell saved him from having to make an excuse.
“I wonder who that could be,” his mother mused as she headed for the back door. Her tone brightened. “Oh, it’s Niki.”
Niki? Jack sat up straighter in his chair. Niki Adams? A picture formed in his mind of the freckle-faced, chubbycheeked, pigtailed kid who lived next door. Slowly, a smile teased his lips. She was a carrot-topped redhead with a temper to match. She was the closest thing he’d ever had to a little sister.
His smile faltered as an unwanted memory crowded his mind. The last time he’d seen her had been almost a year ago, at her father’s funeral. He’d been in the middle of the most important trial of his life and had been forced to cut the visit short. Leaving her looking so lost and vulnerable had been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. He’d never forgiven himself for not being there when one of his best friends had needed him most.
The thought of her here alone in Webster Groves, while he was nearly three hundred miles away in Chicago, had haunted him. In truth, it was one of the reasons why he’d quit his job.
“I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner, Mrs. Sinclair. Mom wanted me to run this pie pan over. She said you wanted to do some baking?”
The deceptively sweet voice sounded familiar, like a whisper from the past, conjuring up memories of the pesky little kid who used to torment him in his youth.
Realization settled over Jack like a wet blanket. For as long as he could remember, Niki was the girl his mother dreamed he would marry. Now he understood the reason behind his mother’s unexpected dinner invitation.
He’d been set up in yet another of his mother’s matchmaking schemes.
“Of course, you’re not interrupting, Niki. I’m glad you came. You saved me a trip. I finished with your mother’s blender. You can bring it back home with you.” His mother paused. In an encouraging voice, she added, “Jack’s here. Come in and say hello.”
Jack unfolded his six-foot-three frame and stood, anxious to greet his old friend. The sight of her stopped him dead in his tracks. The last time he’d seen her, their mutual grief had been all-consuming. He hadn’t had the time or the inclination to notice the changes that had occurred in his childhood friend over the years.
He’d been expecting a kid with braces and skinned-up knees. What he saw was a young woman with long, shapely legs and a slender, yet gently curved body. The lacy cream-colored blouse and the slender green skirt that she wore did little to dispel the womanly image.
Still, there was a sprinkling of freckles dusting her heart-shaped face. And the mass of copper-colored hair curled about her shoulders with a mind of its own, reminding him of the young girl he used to know.
But he had to admit…the kid next door had grown up quite nicely.
An unease settled in his chest, making it hard to breathe, to think, to move. He stood there, staring at her for a long moment.
A bright welcoming smile lit her face, quickening his pulse. “Hello, Jack.”
He nodded. “Niki.”
“It’s been a long time.”
An understatement if he’d ever heard one. It felt as though he’d been gone an eternity. Long enough for a nymph to be transformed into an alluring woman.
“Too long,” he admitted.
Aware of his parents’ curious gazes, Jack forced himself to move. With feet that felt like lead, he closed the distance between