The Father of Her Son - By Kathleen Pickering Page 0,51
was happening. She could ignore these people, but she didn’t want her son to witness a moment of it. When she returned to Evan’s this afternoon, she would bring Julia McKenna flowers for keeping Matt safe.
Bunny met her at the door. “I already called the police. As long as they stay on the sidewalk and don’t do any physical harm, we can’t disperse them.”
Kelly tapped a finger to her lips. “Why don’t you prepare a few trays of doughnuts and coffee? Have them brought out to the picketers. Tell them we appreciate how much their presence is bringing in customers. Let’s see how long they stay.”
Bunny laughed. “I’ll get on that right away!”
A quick survey of the diner showed that business was still moving at a brisk pace. All the regulars were there. New faces watched her with open curiosity. She made a point to greet these folks. When anyone raised a question about the senator, she just waved away the inquiry saying that her attorney wouldn’t let her discuss the situation and recommended they try the pastries. When she finally had the chance to talk with Evan’s attorney, for sure he would instruct her to say the same.
While plastering a smile on her face, inside she fumed. The seven long years she spent breaking the victim shackles that Campbell’s assault placed on her emotions were not going to be trashed again by the man’s egotistical and deviant personality. Because Buzz Campbell once took liberties with her body, he had changed the direction of her dreams. Last time, he’d left her scrambling to keep the fabric of her life from tearing to shreds. This time, she’d employ damage control from the get-go. This man had no right to invade her life, and if he thought he did have a right simply to cover his own tail, he had another think coming. She’d learned so much since he last messed with her. He would not get the chance to abuse her again. She wasn’t sure how, but she would fight.
Patrons by the window were clearly amused by the picketers circling outside Neverland. Some gestured and interacted with them through the windows, others cast concerned glances in Kelly’s direction. A sigh escaped her throat. This situation was too big for her to handle alone. She might have to trust Evan’s advice to air her story. But how could she defend herself and not accuse Campbell of rape? No way could she reveal that horror and not hurt Matt in the long run. She’d talk with Evan more about it tonight.
Darn it all. Did that make him right, once again?
Thinking about him sent a flutter through her stomach. The curve of a smile traced her lips. As much as she detested his pushy insistence that they consider marriage to protect Matt, the memory of their few minutes on the couch had simmered below the surface of her thoughts since awakening this morning.
Handing him a cup of coffee in the silence of the kitchen before the city began bustling conjured an intimacy between them that she hadn’t expected. The familiarity in those quiet moments seemed so very natural. Evan still looked sleepy despite the perfect navy suit with a yellow tie draped around his neck, his hair still a bit tousled from sleep. He smelled good, like fresh air and promise. Concern about her rejection from last night was clear in his eyes. He hadn’t said anything further, but the issue lay between them like a dangerous bog neither of them wanted to tread.
That peaceful exchange with Evan while Matt slept down the hall offered a sense of permanence she had never experienced. The attraction to the possibility of being with Evan on a regular basis had tilted her equilibrium—in a good way.
She mentally shook herself. Taking an armful of empty plates to the busing station she mumbled, “Get a grip, Red.”
Truth be told, she was taking her first intimate moment with a man a little too seriously. Here she was, twenty-seven years old and mooning over her first kiss—or more correctly, her first make-out session. No wonder she was so preoccupied about last night. With the way Evan kissed, all she wanted to do was make up for lost time, and hurry. Holy Saint Raphael, could that man make a woman forget where she was!
“Hey, Kelly. Check out the TV.”
Bunny pointed to the screen, then gestured out the window. NCTV cameras were trained on the picketers. One of the customers at the counter