Husband for a Weekend. GINA WILKINS

working.”

      Unlike Bob, Kim was visibly losing patience with Betsy. Tate didn’t blame her, but she really should learn to let her mother’s little barbs deflect off her. Betsy didn’t seem to dig at her sons in quite the same way. Was it a mother/daughter dynamic thing—or did Betsy know it was harder to push emotional buttons with Julian and Stuart?

      Trying to take the attention off Kim, he spoke to her brothers. “We haven’t had much chance to get to know each other yet. I understand you’re recently out of the service, Julian. What do you do now?”

      “Bob got me a job at his accounting firm,” Julian answered without a great deal of enthusiasm. “I’m taking night classes toward getting a CPA.”

      Before Tate could respond, Stuart frowned. “Kim hasn’t even told you what Julian does?”

      Realizing his mistake, Tate suppressed a wince, but Kim rescued him that time.

      “Tate’s simply trying to make conversation, Stuart,” she said evenly. “Besides which, I couldn’t tell him much about either of you because I haven’t heard what you’ve been up to lately.”

      Betsy cleared her throat. “Perhaps if you called more often …”

      Tate spoke again quickly to her brothers. “Kim has talked about both of you, of course, but I thought we could get to know each other in person now.”

      He was going to have to do better than this if he didn’t want to blow the whole marriage charade before the reunion even began tomorrow. “Tell me about yourself, Stuart. What have you been up to this summer?”

      Stuart shrugged, but a look from his mother made him answer politely enough—for a teenager. “Just been hanging out. I have a part-time job at a video game store at the mall.”

      “Stuart starts college a week from Monday,” Bob added as he refilled Tate’s tea glass.

      “Yeah? Where will you be going, Stuart?”

      The teen muttered the name of a well-respected liberal arts college in Springfield.

      “He’s going to live here at home and commute,” Betsy said. “I wasn’t quite ready to send my baby away. That will come soon enough, won’t it, Bob? We’ll have to get used to an empty nest eventually.”

      When Bob merely smiled and nodded, and no one else responded, Tate tried to keep the conversation moving. “I’ve heard that’s a very good school. Have you chosen a major yet?”

      Stuart shrugged again. “I’m interested in mathematics and computer sciences.”

      “Good choices.”

      Stuart chomped down on his ear of corn to discourage further conversation.

      “Tell Tate more about your new job, Julian,” Betsy urged, picking delicately at the baked potato and salad in front of her. She’d passed on the steak and corn, saying that she was watching her weight. She’d looked archly at Kim’s plate as she’d made the comment, but for once using a modicum of tact, hadn’t remarked aloud about Kim’s choice to have a reasonable serving of everything.

      “I work in accounting, Mom,” Julian replied curtly. “Hardly anything more to tell.”

      “What about your real love?” Bob asked Julian with a look that might have been sympathetic. “Restoring old cars?”

      Julian slanted a look at his mother that was almost defensive. “It’s a hobby, that’s all.”

      “An obsession, you mean,” Stuart mumbled. “At least, that’s what your ex called it.”

      Julian scowled. “Yeah, well, she’s a—”

      “Julian,” his mother interrupted quickly, with a pointed look at Tate, as if to remind her son they had company among them. “Tate, don’t get the wrong impression. Julian isn’t a mechanic, he’s an up-and-coming financial advisor. He enjoyed tinkering with cars as a teenager, but he doesn’t have nearly as much time for that now, isn’t that right, Julian?”

      “No,” Julian said, and if he tried to hide the regret, he wasn’t entirely successful. “I don’t.”

      “What types of cars have you restored?” Tate asked, doggedly trying to keep the conversation moving.

      “Couple of classic Mustangs. I’m working on a ‘69 Mach 1 now. It’s in pretty bad shape, haven’t had much time to work on it, but it’s got great potential.”

      “Sixty-nine, huh? Nice. Which engine?”

      For the first time since they’d been introduced, Tate saw a spark of enthusiasm in Julian’s eyes. “Three fifty-one V8.”

      “Windsor or Cleveland?”

      Beneath the table, Kim lightly tapped his leg, then gave a thumbs-up sign when he glanced down.

      The spark in Julian’s blue eyes flared into a flame of passion. “Windsor—not quite as easy to find the parts, but she’s going to purr like a tiger when I’ve got her up and running.”

      “Shaker hood scoop?”

      “Yes, of course. And I was thinking of—”

      “Oh, there’s no need to get all technical about the mechanical aspects,” Betsy interrupted impatiently. “You don’t want to bore our guest, Julian.”

      Julian subsided with a slight flush, looking down at his plate.

      Tate was finding Betsy less amusing all the time. “Actually, I have a lot of admiration for a skilled mechanic, whether on a professional or recreational level.”

      “More challenging than gardening?” Stuart asked in a slightly mocking murmur.

      Feeling Kim stiffen beside him, Tate laid his hand quickly on her thigh, silently assuring her that he didn’t need her to jump to his defense. “In its own way,” he agreed equably.