The Father of Her Son. Kathleen Pickering
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have that bad an effect on you?”
She held a hand to her throat. “That year was rather awful for me. I’d say the following year was a better time.”
“Why do you say that?”
She frowned. “Well, it doesn’t matter. That year began a prestigious career for you. So I’m happy to toast to a fine year.” She lifted her glass.
He studied her from across the counter. There she was dodging information, one more time. “Yes, there was that.”
She smiled sweetly. “Is there anything I can do to help with the meal?”
She looked uncomfortable again and it pained him that she felt she had to be so protective. He shook his head. “You serve folks every day. I want you to relax and enjoy yourself.”
Behind them the pinball machine dinged wildly. Matt jumped up and down on the ottoman. “Score!”
“Easy on the furniture, son.”
“Okay.” Without even looking at Kelly, he slipped another quarter into the machine and began playing again.
“Don’t worry. I bought the furniture to handle my rowdiest friends. Matt can do no harm in here. Let him be free.”
Kelly smiled. “That’s nice. Thank you. He doesn’t get much room in the apartment.”
“Well, you and Matt are welcome here anytime.”
“I’ll be sure to call first. Wouldn’t want to interrupt a hot date.”
He laughed. Boy, did she have the wrong idea. “Not much worry there.”
She slanted him a sideways glance. “Oh, please. Your reputation precedes you.”
“Lies. All of them.”
“Hmm. I seem to remember some political, fund-raising auction and you were the main prize for a dinner date.”
“Oh, don’t remind me of that hellish night.”
She chuckled. “If I remember correctly, three women pooled their money and you ended up taking them all out. Even I bought the tabloids to read about your escapades.”
He slapped his chest. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“I didn’t. But, I was tempted.”
He leaned closer. “And what about you?”
“I never...”
“Yes?”
There it was again. Their easy conversation stalled midway by Kelly’s refusal to speak her mind. What would it take to make her trust him?
She sipped her wine. “I never discuss my private life.”
He laughed. “Touché.”
He’d have to try another way to penetrate her defenses. Instead, he tasted the sauce. Not bad. He turned the burner off. Dropped fresh pasta into the boiling water. “Just five minutes and we can eat.”
He stirred the pasta in the pot, wanting very much to stir another proverbial pot. Taking a shot at the hard questions with Kelly would certainly quash any flirting he had on his mind.
He added more wine to her glass. “So tell me, Kelly. Who is your best friend?”
She frowned. “Bunny, I’d say.”
“No, she is your employee.”
“Well, she has also grown to be my friend.”
He sipped his wine. “As luck would have it.” He took another tack. “Then tell me this. Is she your confidante? Someone you can trust?”
“No. Herby was the closest person to me and now he’s gone.”
The pinball machine sounded. “Bwaa, ha, ha!” Matt’s laughter pulled their attention to him.
Across the counter, Evan could sense Kelly’s defenses rising, as he expected. He found it hard to believe that someone as personable as Kelly didn’t allow anyone except a kindly old gent into her inner sanctuary.
She turned her attention back to him. “Why do you ask, Evan?”
He poured the steaming pasta into a colander in the sink then shook the extra water from the noodles. He placed a pasta bowl next to the sink.
“You seemed distressed yesterday afternoon when Steve and I arrived at Neverland. You did a fine job of distracting Steve, my dear, but not me. I was wondering if you have anyone to talk to when something bothers you.”
She managed a smile. “Not much bothers me, Evan.”
He shook his head. “You don’t fool me, Kelly Sullivan. Something rattled your cage yesterday, and I saw it. As your friend, I want you to know, I’m here if you ever need me.”
He was talking as he worked, pouring the pasta into the serving bowl, ladling the sauce over the top, pulling the Parmesan cheese from the refrigerator and slicing a chunk into the hand grater.
Kelly placed her goblet on the counter, pulling herself up on the stool like a Valkyrie. “I appreciate the offer, Evan, but let me be honest with you.”
Uh-oh. Would she unleash her Irish ire even before Matt had his cake? “Okay. Shoot.”
“You are a newsman. A very clever, crafty and intelligent researcher who surpasses his counterparts in every way.”
He didn’t expect the compliment. “Why, thank you, Red.”
She shook her head. “I am not done.”
He met her fiery gaze. “Oh.”
“You have been snooping for answers about my life since you returned. I like my privacy. If I wanted to share things with you or anyone, I would have. Sometimes you’re a tad too big for your britches—even if they do fit you to a fine turn.”
He burst out laughing at that. “Well I’ve never been shot down and built up so effectively in one delivery.”
She nodded once. “The pleasure is mine.”
He wanted to thank her for the pleasure of just watching her get all heated up defending herself. He loved the way her chest heaved beneath the gauzy green dress with the embroidery that matched the dye and traced the V-neck of the dress right into her delightful cleavage. That, along with the jangle of her bracelets mixed with her bravado and unabashed ease in standing her ground with him, all turned him on something fierce. He tore his eyes from the daring in her emerald-green gaze and pulled garlic bread from the warming drawer beneath the oven. He tossed the salad with his favorite homemade balsamic dressing, if only to give himself time to regroup. This intoxicating woman was having an even more profound effect on him simply by sitting in his kitchen.
She settled back down into her seat, as if ready to move on from the topic. “You are quite the chef.”
He tapped his wineglass to hers. “There is so much you don’t know about me, Ms. Sullivan. Hopefully, we’ll change that.”
He lifted his focus to the game room. “Yo, Matt-man. Help me serve dinner.”
“Almost done!” Matt was becoming a pinball wizard in his own right, working the flippers as if he had been born in the sixties.
Evan laughed. “I think I’ve created a monster.”
Kelly sipped her wine. “I suppose we’ve all created a few of those in our time, now, Evan. Haven’t we?”
CHAPTER FIVE
WHEN THE PHONE rang at five-thirty Monday morning, Kelly was already up preparing lunch for Matt’s first day of school. She reached for the phone frowning. Either someone was in distress or calling long-distance. Those long-distance calls usually left her distressed. She wasn’t happy when she read