Magic by Tami Hoag Page A

of his kiss came flooding back. Beneath her fingertips and the fine wool of his jacket his arm was a rock of muscle.
    “Don’t worry,” he whispered, easily reading her mind. “There’s almost no G in Addie’s G and T. I just splash some on the ice so I’m not really fibbing when I give it to her.”
    He turned toward the sideboard to mix the drink. Rachel sighed, helpless to stop the sweet warmth flooding her chest. It would be so very easy to let herself fall for him. He was handsome and charming in a rather bizarre sort of way. He was so kind and solicitous toward Addie. She watched him hand her mother the weak drink. He winked at Addie and pretended to pull a quarter out of her ear.
    “You’re an idiot, Hennessy. I don’t know why I keep you on,” Addie blustered, shooing him away, but there was a rare twinkle in her eye and a bloom in her cheeks that hadn’t been there when they’d returned home after the incident in the park.
    How Rachel envied him that easy rapport with her mother. He didn’t have the burden of a past full of pain and mistakes weighing down his every word. He didn’t have the burden of a future full of heartache and sacrifice holding him back. He could walk away anytime he liked, and no one could ever fault him. He didn’t have to deal with issues like selling Drake House. All Bryan had to worry about was pulling quarters out of people’s ears.
    They sat down to a meal of thick, aromatic beef stew and hot biscuits. It wasn’t exactly a five-course dinner to go along with the china and silver on the polished walnut table, but it was hearty, healthy fare and required only one utensil to eat it—an important consideration for Addie, who was slowly losing her ability to deal with a full complement of flatware.
    “Hennessy is quite an adequate cook,” Addie said, dipping her biscuit into the gravy on her plate and nibbling at it delicately. “He’s an impudent rascal, insisting on eating at the table with the rest of us, but I tolerate him.”
    Rachel frowned. Bryan wasn’t the butler, and she didn’t see any reason for him to be treated like one. But when she opened her mouth to set her mother straight, Bryan caught her eye and shook his head ever so slightly.
    “That’s very big of you, Addie,” he said. “Not everyone is as generous and forgiving as you are.”
    Addie gave him a shrewd look. “Remember that, young man.” She tossed back the last of her gin and tonic and thrust the glass at him for a refill. Lifting her nose slightly, she glanced askance at Rachel. “Some people don’t appreciate generosity and sacrifice, and look what happens to them.”
    Rachel ground her retort between her teeth and choked it down with a piece of potato.
    “Did I mention how stunning you look tonight, Addie?” Bryan said affably, handing her glass back to her filled with tonic water and a slice of lime. “I can’t think of another woman who could wear that outfit quite the way you do … unless it might be Jayne,” he added, grinning across the table at his friend, who stuck her tongue out at him.
    Addie beamed and fluffed her ostrich feathers.
    “And didn’t Rachel find a beautiful dress?” Bryan said, not realizing the way his voice dropped and softened. Nor did he realize the longing that shone in his eyes.
    Rachel sat directly across from him, between Addie, at the head of the table, and Jayne. A tiny smile of gratitude canted the corners of her lips.
    Addie gave her daughter a hard, assessing look, “Yes, it’s very suitable. For once you don’t look like some cheap, wandering Gypsy.”
    The smile faded away as Rachel closed her eyes and counted to ten.
    “Rachel,” Jayne said brightly as she picked around the meat in her stew. “Tell us all about your career as a singer. My, how exciting that must be. I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.”
    “That’s not much to tell,” Rachel said, bracing her shoulders. She kept her head down, her eyes trained on her plate