The Father of Her Son - By Kathleen Pickering Page 0,56
the public eye. He won’t be nice about it if you give him no other alternative. Bottom line—he’ll take Matt and keep you out of the picture.”
She knew the bastard would slam her hard. “How can marrying Evan fix this?”
“It’s as he promised the other day. As your husband he can protect you and Matt. You both can claim that Matt is Evan’s. Right now, no one knows about the DNA test. If Campbell retracts his request, no one else can legally demand it. Campbell will sue Doyle for defamation of character and will throw money where it’s needed to silence this story. You and Matt can slide out of the spotlight and continue with your lives.”
Kelly shook her head. “Campbell always wanted a son. I do not believe he will go away quietly and leave Matt untouched.”
“Well, Evan has a plan to ensure he will go away.”
“What is that?”
“Meet with Evan so he can tell you. I’ll take Matt out for a movie. You two need to talk.”
* * *
EVAN WAS ALREADY at the penthouse. He and Matt called hello to her while running through the apartment playing some war game with guns that shot light, and vests that sounded when hit with it. Still there, Julie McKenna greeted Michael with a handshake and Kelly with a hug.
“Matt is a delight, my dear. We had a lovely day together.”
Although grateful beyond words for her help, Kelly forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Thank you, Julie. Knowing Matt was safe made it easier for me to work.”
Julie grabbed her purse. “I’m meeting Evan’s father for dinner. Please keep me posted on events.”
“Certainly.” She walked with Julie to the door, glad for the short distance and that the woman had nothing further to say. Closing the door behind Julie, Kelly glanced at her brother. “Looks like Matt is no worse for wear.”
He smiled. “Evan has a way with the boy. I like him.”
She didn’t have a response that made her feel comfortable. “I’d like to get this over with.”
She headed down the hallway into Matt’s room, where Evan and Matt were wrestling over Evan’s gun. Matt’s lay on the floor, out of power. “Hey, Matt. Break it up. Uncle Michael wants to take you to a movie.”
The two looked up from tangling. The camaraderie they shared reflected in the laughter in their faces. Evan looked completely in his element with her son, who was not going to let his competitor win. When Evan smiled at Kelly, Matt grabbed Evan’s gun and scrambled off the bed with a hoot.
“I won!”
Evan sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Sure did, Matt-man. Great game.” The two shared their secret handshake.
Kelly’s breath caught in her throat. If she ever dreamed of how a father would behave with her son, nothing came closer than this moment. Damn Evan for being the perfect and the worst man for her. There was no way around this one. She’d just have to cut her losses and keep moving. “When you get back with Uncle Michael we’ll leave, Matt. I’ll gather up your things while you’re gone.”
Matt looked deflated. “Why, Mom?”
Evan stood up. “Yeah. Why?”
He stood close to Kelly. The heat of his body, the intensity of his gaze almost had her forgetting why she wanted to run from this man. Closing her eyes to regain her equilibrium, she exhaled a breath. “You’re kidding, right? You have to ask that question?”
Recognition crossed his features. “This morning’s show.”
She nodded once. “Exactly. Michael tells me you two met for lunch. I’m staying long enough to hear your strategy.” She gave Matt a nudge. “Come on, honey. Uncle Michael is waiting.”
When Matt and Michael departed, the walls seemed to close in on her, despite the open rooms of the penthouse. Evan pulled a menu from a drawer in the kitchen. His easy manner compounded her unease, as if he was confident he would sway her to his decision when she never felt more certain that she did not belong here.
Evan held up the menu. “This place serves excellent sushi. Have you eaten?”
She waved away the offer. “No, thank you. I had coffee with Michael. Feel free to order if you want something.”
He reached into the refrigerator for two waters, twisted off the caps and placed one on the counter for her. “Well, then have a seat and wet your whistle. We have to talk.”
Her chin lifted. “Why are you so comfortable giving orders?”