The Father of Her Son - By Kathleen Pickering Page 0,86
takes coordination and an excellent sense of timing to keep the silver ball moving. Here, let me show you.”
He stepped up behind her, careful not to get too close. He loved how she fit tidily within his arms, the crown of her head just below his chin.
She tensed. “Tell me you’re not going to use pinball to seduce me.”
He chuckled. “No, we’re playing pinball because I’m determined not to seduce you.”
She was silent a moment. “Oh.”
Did he hear disappointment in that one little syllable? “Okay, so you have to relax, Red.” He placed her hands on the sides of the machine. “Press the flippers a few times before launching the ball so you can get a feel for their flexibility.”
Flexibility. He’d have to use different words.
She tapped the buttons on the side and watched the flippers move. “Okay, I think I have the feel.”
The feel. “Yeah, you sure do.”
She laughed. “Stop it now.”
He had to resist nuzzling his face in her hair. With extreme discipline he stepped to the side. “Okay, when you’re ready, launch the ball. Let’s see how you do.”
Twenty minutes later, Kelly was jumping in the air, cheering herself on. She’d soundly trounced his butt and won the match.
He couldn’t help but grin. “Beginner’s luck. I declare a rematch.”
“Not tonight, buster. I’m not taking the chance of handing my victory over so quickly.”
Heat lit his eyes, he knew it. “You are beautiful when you are victorious, Red, but I especially like it when you jump up and down like that.”
She swatted at his arm. “Funny man.”
Color was high on her cheeks. An excellent mixture of champagne and fun. She was standing with her back to the pinball machine, her hands propped on the glass behind her doing wonderful things to her cleavage.
“What should we do now?”
He knew exactly what he wanted to do next. He didn’t dare move from his place by the table where he’d gone for the last piece of chocolate. He gestured for her to have it. She declined.
“Do I get to choose?”
A slow grin crossed her mouth. “Hmm.”
“That means?”
She pursed her lips. “No.”
“Why not?”
“What would you choose to do?”
He blew out a breath. She shouldn’t have asked a second time. In two steps he stood before her. “Given the chance, Red, I would do this...”
Using one finger to lift her chin, he descended on her mouth softly, but with a surety she could not miss. He held himself far enough away so that only his finger and his lips touched her. Gently, he probed, moving an inch closer, letting his breath mingle with hers in a heady mix of chocolate, sweet fruit and champagne.
She pressed back and he moved in, sliding his hands along her jaw to cup her face, his fingertips invading her hairline behind her ears.
She kissed him back like she meant it. God bless Pol Rogers.
When his tongue sought hers, she responded. Mindful of her back, he lifted her by the waist and hoisted her on the edge. Not breaking the kiss for a second, she snaked her arms around his neck and let him step between her legs draped by her flowing skirt.
He wanted to make love to her until she forgot she didn’t trust him and fell so deeply and profoundly in love with him that she screamed his name out loud.
When his hands started caressing her belly, her torso, her breasts, she broke the kiss.
The look she gave him held angst. “Evan.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “Yes?”
“I own that I married you today. But, I cannot deceive you. I’m a little drunk. This feels really good, but I don’t want to give myself to you again until, if and when, I can declare my love.”
“What if I can declare mine? Right now.”
She touched his lips with the pad of her fingers. “Thank you, Evan. But I must stand on these terms. Part of the ground rules I wanted to discuss.”
He closed his eyes. She’d married him. He’d gotten her this far. He could wait. “I understand, Red. But may I say something?”
A small smile broke on her lips. “Of course...”
“Mom?”
They turned to see Matt standing in the middle of the court. Evan helped Kelly down from the pinball machine with a swift motion.
“Matt, what’s wrong, son.”
He pressed a hand to his stomach. “I don’t feel so well.”
And he proceeded to throw up his winter storage all over the polished floor.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
KELLY SERVED THE bustling Monday-morning crowd feeling a step lighter. It felt good to be back