Brenna ran her hand through her hair. “And maybe not even that. What if it’s a hung jury?”
She thought of Luke’s amused prediction that she would be the one to hang the jury, but didn’t share the remark with Cassie. She didn’t want her friend to know how long she and Luke had talked, especially after Cassie’s outlandish speculations.
Besides, she’d already spent too much time thinking about Luke Minteer—and way too much time talking about him to Cassie. It was puzzling, and disturbing, too.
And then there was the most puzzling, disturbing thing of all—that remark she’d made to him upon leaving the courthouse.
Why hadn’t she simply played along with Luke Minteer’s belief that she was married? Why hadn’t she pretended that a “Mr. Morgan” actually existed?
Luke had assumed one did, that she was a married woman—until she’d quashed that notion flat.
Why had she done it? Brenna mused throughout the evening. By morning she still didn’t have the answer.
Two
All twelve jurors arrived on time the next morning for the beginning of the trial. They introduced themselves to each other, and one of the older men, Roger Hollister, was elected foreman. The lawyers for both sides seemed pleased with the jurors’ first group decision; Hollister, whose nickname was Sarge, had served in World War II and knew a thing or two about leadership.
In the jury box before the opening argument, Luke once again sat next to Brenna Morgan. A natural gravitation process had already occurred among the twelve. Sarge Hollister and the other two men in his age group sat together, as did the five elderly women. The two pierced and tattooed young men, both named Jason with different surnames, stuck together, which left Brenna and Luke with nobody but each other.
Or so Luke told himself. Never mind that in his political incarnation, he had prided himself in fitting in with any group, regardless of age or sex. That was then, this was now, and he and Brenna were their own group strictly by default.
He glanced over at her. She’d gone for comfort over formality today, trading in yesterday’s blue maternity dress for black slacks and a long bottle-green top. He had opted for jeans again—after reading the prissy advisory not to wear them to court, of course he would never wear anything else—and an equally casual plaid flannel shirt.
But Brenna had followed the dress code, such as it was. She’d pulled her dark hair high in a ponytail, and the ends of it brushed against the nape of her neck. Luke’s eyes lingered on the soft, creamy-white skin exposed there, and he quickly lowered his gaze.
She looked as if she had a beachball stuffed under her shirt. Her breasts and belly seemed to merge into one big shapeless bulge, but her black tapered pants revealed that despite her advanced pregnancy, her legs were nicely shaped. Her ankles weren’t swollen today. He noticed that, too.
Luke frowned.
“Why aren’t you married?” he blurted out in a low whisper.
Brenna turned to look at him, visibly startled by the question. Luke himself was startled. He was doing it again—blabbing his thoughts aloud. The influence of the courthouse, perhaps? It was an old gothic-style place, vaguely creepy, where strange things might be expected to happen—like him imagining that he was being influenced by the atmosphere!
“Because I’m not,” she replied coolly.
She might as well have come right out and flatly said, It’s none of your business, because her answer, her voice and entire demeanor conveyed just that sentiment.
Still Luke didn’t back off. “Did your boyfriend dump you when he found out you were pregnant?”
“Are you speaking from personal experience? Is that what you would do in a similar situation?” Brenna went on the offense, her chin rising defiantly. “Or maybe you’ve already done it, for all I know.” She didn’t meet his eyes.
“No! I didn’t—I wouldn’t—I’ve never—” Luke paused when the attorney for Brad, the plaintiff, stood and began to present his opening argument.
Brad sat at the table, listening to his side being presented, nodding his head at every point. His former fiancée, Amber, visibly bristled, grimaced and vehemently shook her head in disagreement.
Everybody in the jury box stared at the feuding former lovers—everybody except Luke Minteer, whose eyes remained riveted on Brenna.
He leaned a little closer to her, his voice low in her ear. “Don’t try to turn this around and sling mud at me, lady. This isn’t about me.”
“True. It has nothing to do with you,” she murmured between clenched teeth. “And please stop talking. The judge is giving us a dirty look.”
“And God forbid we get on the wrong side of His Honor,” taunted Luke. “We might get thrown off the jury. Wow, that would be a heavy price to pay.”
“Excuse me.” The judge pounded his gavel, interrupting the attorney. “Jurors nine and ten, conversation will be conducted outside the courtroom, not during the trial. I don’t want to have to mention this again.” He glowered at Brenna and Luke.
Brenna blushed and she stared at the floor. Luke shrugged, scowling, but unintimidated by the reprimand.
“Don’t look so guilty,” he whispered to Brenna a moment later. “It’s not like we’re criminals on trial here. We’re the ones giving up our time to do our civic duty so that Brad and Amber can stick it to each—”
“Will you please shut up!” Brenna said desperately. “We’re going to get jailed for contempt of court or something if you keep—”
“Juror nine!” thundered the judge, glaring at Brenna.
She slumped lower in her chair. “I’m sorry, Your Honor.”
“She isn’t feeling well, Your Honor,” Luke spoke up. “She is very advanced in her pregnancy and needs to take a break right now. If you would be kind enough to excuse her for a few minutes…” He stared at the judge expectantly.
The judge looked nonplussed. “I…see. All right, we’ll all take a ten-minute break. Court resumes in ten minutes.” He strode from the courtroom.
“If we take ten-minute breaks every ten minutes, this trial will never end,” one attorney complained to the other, loud enough to be heard in the jury box.
“You guys are the ones who picked a very pregnant woman to be on your jury,” Luke called back to them. “So live with it, boys.”
“I’m going to the rest room,” Brenna murmured, and quickly left the courtroom.
Luke was in the corridor standing against the wall when she emerged from the bathroom. She would have walked past him, but he approached her.
“I came to your rescue,” he said proudly. “Pretty fast thinking on my part, hmm?”
“Is that how you see yourself? A kind of gallant knight in shining armor?” Brenna headed directly to the courtroom, Luke at her side. “What you seem to forget is that you’re the reason I got in trouble in the first place.”
“Honey, you got in trouble long before I came on the scene.”
“If that’s an attempt at wit,” Brenna ground out, “it failed.”
“Mmm-hmm. So you were dumped by the daddy when you told him you were pregnant?” Luke surmised with a knowing nod. “You wouldn’t be so defensive and angry unless I’d really hit a nerve.”
“I’m not defensive but, yes, I’m angry. Because you’re a…a—”
“Jerk,”