The Father of Her Son - By Kathleen Pickering Page 0,83
subject yet.
She grinned. “I think I can surrender to those terms.”
Heat lit his eyes. “Careful now, Red. I am vulnerable to words such as surrender.”
She laughed out loud. “Well, then I agree to those terms.”
The pinball machine hit the jackpot because the bells and whistles went off.
“Dad! Look at this!”
“I’m going to play pinball with my son. Would you like to cheer us on?”
She swallowed her answer. The conviction behind Evan calling Matt his son floored her. He was taking his role seriously. It occurred to her that Evan’s drive to keep Matt from Campbell wasn’t just about helping her.
Oh, God. So much to consider. She needed to be alone for a while. She glanced down at her dress. “I’d like to take some time to change my clothes and get more comfortable.”
Appreciation filled his smile. “You look spectacular, Mrs. McKenna. If the situation was different, I’d be helping you peel out of that dress, very, very slowly.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Please, Evan.”
He bit his lower lip. “I understand.” He spread his arm in a flourish in the direction of her room. “Please make yourself comfortable. Right now, that’s the best I can hope for.”
* * *
TONIGHT WAS TECHNICALLY the first night of their honeymoon. Matt had been in bed for about an hour. Kelly’s first impulse was to retreat to her room for the evening, but her inner coward refused to take root. Now that she had taken this enormous leap into the unknown with Evan, she decided it best if they delineated some ground rules.
She’d changed from her dress to a pale yellow sand-washed gypsy skirt with a white tank top and white ballerina slippers. She’d twisted her hair into a braid that fell on one shoulder and caught the end with a leather tie. She’d removed all jewelry except for her wedding ring, which she fingered nervously now as she sat on the balcony. The city lights framed the undeveloped dark space that was Central Park. She took small comfort knowing that a chunk of Manhattan had been preserved with woods.
Evan emerged through the door, tray in hand and a lap blanket over one arm.
“What do you have there?”
“A little something to sweeten the end of a beautiful day.”
He placed the tray on the table. An opened bottle of Pol Roger champagne chilled in an ice bucket. Two flutes. A dish of strawberries and a plate of dark chocolates. With a flourish he opened a crisp white napkin and laid it in her lap. The lap blanket he draped behind her chair. “In case a breeze rises.”
His attention tugged on her heart while raising an alarm. “Is this a plan for seduction?”
He grinned. “It could be if you allow it. Otherwise, no. Consider this a tribute to your courage for marrying me.”
“Oh, Evan, you are smooth.”
He shook his head. “No, Red. I speak the gospel truth. I also have an announcement to make which may require celebration—depending on your point of view.”
He filled the glasses, handed one to her, took one for himself and pulled his chair close to hers before sitting.
They touched rims and sipped. He offered her a strawberry. She took it. As he watched her bite into the red flesh and smile as the ripeness exploded on her tongue, she had the feeling that he had wanted to feed it to her himself.
“Hmm. Delicious. Thank you.”
He helped himself to one.
Kelly settled back into her chair. “So what are we celebrating?”
He lifted his flute from the table. “In all the excitement of our nuptials today I never had the chance to tell you that I quit my job.”
Kelly bolted forward. “What?”
Amusement lit his eyes. “I thought you’d react that way.”
“Evan, why?”
He reached for a chocolate and popped it into his mouth. Chewing he said, “Steve didn’t offer a good enough reason for why he aired the Campbell interview. I had expressly asked him to support me in exposing Campbell without using you and he ignored me.”
She sat back in her chair, dumbfounded. “Evan. You didn’t.”
He nodded, entirely sober. “I did. I told you I had nothing to do with that interview.”
“So you didn’t host your show this morning?”
“Nope. Bethany Dodge did a fine job.”
“Don’t you care?”
She didn’t miss the tightness setting his jaw as he thought over his answer. After a moment he nodded. “Yes, I care very much. I love my job. It’s my chance to make viewers aware of our moral obligation to each other. But Steve overstepped the line of this