The One Safe Place. Kathleen O'Brien
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surprise written all over her lovely face. Apparently it was something of a miracle that Spencer would actually be willing to go out into the night with a stranger, even to see newborn kittens.
“Sure,” Reed said easily. “I’d love to take him along.”
Oops—he must have phrased that wrong. Spencer’s brow wrinkled deeply under his shaggy brown bangs. He tugged on Faith’s sweater. When he got her attention, he walked to the far counter and grabbed her purse. He came back and handed it to her.
The implication was unmistakable. Spencer wasn’t going anywhere without his aunt.
“Reed?” She lifted her eyebrows. “Do you have room for all of us?”
“Of course,” he said. “It’ll be fun.”
And he realized that, much to his surprise, he actually meant it. He had thought he’d have trouble relinquishing his accustomed solitude—and yet here he was, downright pleased that he wouldn’t have to make the long drive out to the Lofton estate alone.
Someone knocked on the kitchen door. Spencer froze, then sidestepped behind Faith’s legs, dragging Tigger with him. Soon all you could see were his little white-knuckled fingers around her hips.
“It’s probably just Theo,” Reed said reassuringly. “She’ll be wanting her casserole dish.”
Faith put her hand behind her back to stroke Spencer’s head. “Can’t be Theo,” she said with a smile. “Theo doesn’t knock.”
Reed grinned back—he could easily imagine Theo saying something as haughty as that. So who was it? Mentally crossing his fingers that it wasn’t any kind of emergency, he opened the door.
It was an emergency, all right. Somehow he managed not to groan out loud. It was a bona fide, four-alarm, social faux pas emergency.
It was Pauline Ferguson, the young owner of Waterworks, the newest retail store on Main Street. Pauline, the red-haired beauty from South Carolina who had been chasing Reed for months, trying to coax him into casting off his mourning and rejoining the social scene at her side.
He was supposed to be at her house right now, picking her up for their first real date.
She was angry, but far too clever to show it. Only the bright flash of her green eyes gave it away. Reed had once seen that same flash in the eyes of a furious, wounded fox.
“Oh, hell, Pauline. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”
That didn’t help, naturally. But it was the truth. And if she wanted to date him, she was going to have to accept the truth. He’d forgotten their date because it honestly didn’t mean very much to him. He wasn’t ready for a “relationship” and he’d told her so, a hundred times. He’d only said yes because she wouldn’t accept a no.
She had assured him that she wasn’t interested in anything serious, either, her divorce was too recent, couldn’t they just keep each other company? But in those two flashing seconds he saw that she’d been lying.
If only he could just call it off. He’d much rather see whether the kittens, who were as small as hamsters, as blind as bats and as cute as hell, could make Spencer smile.
But he was stuck, of course. He wasn’t selfish enough to insult Pauline like that. He introduced Pauline to Faith—and to Spencer, though Pauline had to take his word for it that a little boy was actually attached to those clutching fingers.
“I hope you’re feeling flexible about tonight’s date,” he said with a smile. “I need to go to the Lofton farm before I can do anything else. And I promised Spencer and Faith they could come along. Dina Lofton has some newborn kittens that are pretty darn cute.”
Pauline was no fool. She smiled, the picture of flexibility. The wounded fox was completely hidden behind the easygoing Southern charm.
“Of course I don’t mind. You know I adore kittens.”
But Spencer began tugging frantically at Faith’s sweater, pulling at her purse, trying to make her take it off her shoulder. His meaning was clear. He was no longer interested in going anywhere.
“It’s okay, Spencer,” Reed said. He felt irrationally annoyed with Pauline, who didn’t realize the damage she’d done just by showing up. “We can still go. We’ll all pile into the truck together. It’ll be fun.”
Spencer froze—and then he came out from behind Faith’s legs slowly. He gave Reed one long, blank look. He reached over and plucked his kitten sketch very carefully from the kitchen table. And then, with Tigger prancing in happy ignorance behind him, the little boy left the room.
FOUR HOURS LATER, Reed let himself into the house quietly, hoping he wouldn’t wake his houseguests. He was tired, and he needed to be alone.
The date had been a disaster.
Pauline hadn’t done anything wrong, exactly. She was as clever as a chameleon, and she’d adapted herself to his mood, going from gaily high-spirited to sensitively low-key in a blink. Her message came through neon-clear: See? I’m the perfect woman. I can be whatever you want.
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