Catch of the Year by Brenda Hammond Page A

And that could lead to questions. She definitely couldn’t afford questions.
    She forced herself to calm her emotions. Outside, the storm had abated. The rain had subsided to a mere whisper on the roof, a sibilance on the windowpanes. Any minute now, it would stop. She and Paul would climb on her bike and roar off into the night. Then she could dump him, say good-bye and that would be that. But first she had to get him out of the house.
    Deciding to play it cool, she propped her shoulders against the door frame and lifted a hand in her brother’s direction to say “hi.”
    Adrian was in the midst of a hair-raising account of his evening’s babysitting stint. “And then the little shit — ” He broke off, lifted his head in acknowledgement. “Uh, hi. Hi Dee.”
    Paul looked from one to the other, his expression puzzled. “Heidi? I thought your name was Serendipity.”
    Adrian chortled and wiggled his feet that hung over the arm of the couch. “It is. Though she does have another n — .”
    Quick as a squirrel, Jade bounded across the room and slapped a hand across her brother’s mouth. Pretending to be giving him a friendly sibling greeting, she rubbed his face, pinched his cheeks, then rearranged his hair.
    â€œHey, sis, give me a break.” He jerked his head away, grabbed her wrists, and grinned up at her. “If you carry on like this I’ll change my mind about being glad you didn’t get fried out on the lake.”
    She nodded a mute response before transferring her attention to the other male in the room. Smiling at Paul, she jerked her head to indicate they should go.
    He looked confused. Lifting the can, he took a swig of beer.
    Silence pressed thick on her ears. She opened her mouth to say something and closed it again.
    Quiet. Now there was no sound to be heard. No thunder. No rain. The storm was over. Time to bring this situation to an end and take Paul back to his car. Then she’d be rid of the man and be able to forget about the whole ridiculous evening — forget about the fact that he’d bested her in the fishing stakes and had somehow set her to remembering she was a woman with a woman’s needs.
    But how to convey to a man who’d only just started on a can of beer that he should abandon his refreshment and leave? That had to rate as one of the hardest tasks in the entire world.
    She cast a quick glance around the room. On the fitted bookcase she spied inspiration. A red clown’s nose, bought at the last charity event she’d attended. She snatched it off the shelf and plunked it on her schnoz. Then she took a wild leap into the center of the room and began hamming it up.
    Bending her knees in a kind of plié and using exaggerated gestures, she pointed first at herself, then at Paul. She indicated the door.
    The two males stared at her in astonishment. Paul didn’t twitch, let alone move.
    What more could she do? Again she pointed, this time at him and then at herself. Then she made circling movements with her arms and legs, trying to convey bicycling.
    â€œWhat’s with you, Dipity?” Adrian asked. “Why are you playing charades when last time I suggested it you said you hated that game?”
    She turned to her brother, opened her eyes wide, and rolled her shoulders in a large shrug. Folding her hands, she put them next to her cheek, inclined her head, and closed her eyes.
    â€œYou want me to go to sleep?” he asked. She gave an exaggerated nod. “No way. If I go now I’ll have nightmares about those terrors I’ve been minding.”
    Jade tried another ploy. Doing her best imitation of the Pink Panther, she crept toward the door, her hands mirroring the prowling movements of her feet, her chin jutting forward with each step. Halfway across the room she paused, looked at Paul and sent him a slow wink.
    Lazy eyes regarded her out of lowered lashes.
    She had a strong suspicion