Ellen Marsh - For His Son's Sake

Returning his smile, she slid in next to Ross. It was the closest she’d ever been to him. He must have showered and put on aftershave recently, because he had a decidedly pleasant smell about him. Clean and…and sexy. Muscles rippled in his arm as he switched on the ignition. “Seat belts, Angus, Kenzie.”

She reached for the strap, glad to have an excuse to wriggle away from him. For some reason she found herself completely unnerved by his presence. Maybe it was the intimacy of their outing together; after all, it was easier dealing with him in the familiarity of her own home. Or maybe it was the fact that he looked so drop-dead handsome tonight. Either way, something about him was doing odd things to her inside.

Angus leaned forward as far as his belt would allow. “Will your birds be okay while you’re gone?”

“They prefer peace and quiet.”

“Did you let the pelican go?”

“This morning.”

“Oh. Too bad. I wish I’d seen it.”

“That’s okay,” she said brightly. “Maybe next time.”

“Will you be letting something else go before next Saturday? That’s when we leave.”

“The blue heron might be well enough by then.”

“Oh, good!” He leaned forward to address his father. “Can we watch Kenzie let it go?”

“We’ll see.”

“It’s a pretty neat experience,” Kenzie said. “Before I let the birds go I band them with a number so people will know who they are if they’re ever caught again. To band them, I have to put their heads in a coffee can.”

Angus’s eyes went wide. “How come?”

“It may seem cruel, but when you stuff them down inside a can they instantly relax. Then you can slide the band on their feet without a struggle.”

“Maybe they’re frozen with terror, not relaxed,” Ross said.

“Actually, research shows that their heart rates slow dramatically. So they really are relaxed.”

Angus bounced up and down in his seat. “I want to watch!”

“We’ll see,” Ross said again, but he sounded a lot more positive this time.

“Ever been to the Boathouse, Kenzie?” Angus demanded in the next breath.

“Only once, when I first moved here.”

“How long ago was that?”

“A little over a year.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“In Washington, D.C.”

“Washington!” Angus leaned forward to eye his father. “Have you ever been there?”

“A few times.”

“Is it nice? Would I like it?”

“You’d probably enjoy the museums and the zoo. Tell you what. I’ll be going there on business in October. Maybe you can come along.”

Angus’s face fell. “I’ll be in school then.”

“Second or third grade?” Kenzie asked.

“I—I don’t know. We had forms in my old school, not grades.”

“You’ll be in third grade here in America, son.”

Had Ross noticed the slight tremor in his son’s voice? Kenzie certainly had. Her heart ached, picturing Angus facing his first day at a strange new school with a new teacher and new classmates. She hoped he’d had the chance to meet a few of them already, managed to make friends with them. That he’d been taken on a tour of his new classroom so the place wouldn’t seem so strange and scary come September.

Did Ross know enough about parenting to arrange those things?

“Do you and Angus live alone?” she asked impulsively.

“At the moment, yes.”

What in heck did that mean?

She waited for an explanation, but none came. Instead Ross switched on his turn signal and pulled into the parking lot.

Kenzie mulled over the comment as she got out of the car. Was Ross planning to get married again? Angus had never mentioned a stepmother-to-be. Not that she cared, of course. She only hoped the woman would be the warm and loving person Angus—and his father—needed so badly.

They were seated at a booth with a huge picture window overlooking the sound. Angus sat down beside her, Ross opposite them. A waitress brought menus, requested drink orders.

“Can we have cocktails?” Angus asked eagerly. “It’s my birthday,” he added importantly.

“Why, sure you can, honey. How about a Shirley Temple? On the house. You’re the best-lookin’ birthday boy we’ve had in here all summer.”

Kenzie had to smile. Obviously she wasn’t the only female to fall instantly for the freckle-faced charmer with his proper British accent.

“You’ll have to have the same,” the waitress added to her and Ross. “We’re a dry county.”

“They don’t serve alcohol,” Kenzie explained after the woman had gone. “No hard alcohol. Just beer and wine. It’s not uncommon here in the South.”

Ross nodded. “Blue laws. I’ve heard of them. But if you ask me, it’s barbaric.”

Tonight she was inclined to agree with him. She didn’t care much for either beer or wine but she would very much have liked a cocktail to calm her nerves. For some reason Ross Calder was taking up too much room as he sat across the table from her. The booth was too small, too…intimate. Her gaze always seemed to be falling on him no matter where she tried to look. His face, his blue eyes, his unsmiling but strangely disturbing mouth. What on earth was the matter with her?

“Can I see what’s in the package now, Kenzie?”

“Gladly.” Anything to distract her.

But Ross had spied the waitress making her way toward them. “Let’s order dinner first, okay?”

Angus pretended to pout, then shyly volunteered to try the locally harvested clams. Kenzie ordered swordfish while Ross requested prime rib.

“Rare, please,” he told the waitress. “We lawyers have a yen for fresh blood.”

Even though he wasn’t looking at her, Kenzie knew which way he’d aimed that barb. It was so unexpected that she didn’t know whether to laugh or throw something at him. Honestly, she’d never let a guy unnerve her like this before!

Casting a glance at him she found him watching her, his blue eyes twinkling. So he had been teasing. Good grief, did he know how devastating he could be when he wanted to? She looked away quickly, her pulses humming and the heat rising to her cheeks.

“Can I open my present now, Kenzie?”

“Please,” she said, grateful for the distraction.

She watched with bated breath as Angus tore open the envelope. She’d had no idea what to give him, and the shopping was so limited in Buxton and Avon that nothing had inspired her. So she’d drawn him a picture, a cartoon she’d painted in a wash of watercolors. It showed the moment of their meeting, with Angus, dressed in a kilt to acknowledge his Scottish fore-bears, reeling in a kite that was about to land on the unsuspecting Kenzie’s head.

She had drawn herself as a somewhat gawky creature in a blue bathing suit, surrounded by all kinds of birds. Zoom and Jazz stood watch in the dunes.

She needn’t have worried. Angus whooped aloud when he saw it. “That’s me! Look, it’s me, and I have on a kilt at the beach! And there’s your dogs and your pelican and the seagulls and herons!”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it! I’m going to hang it in my room.”

“We’ll have to get it framed first.” Ross was looking at her almost wonderingly. “It’s very good.”

To Kenzie’s annoyance, little fingers of pleasure seemed to dance up her spine. The last thing she sought was approval from this man, especially when she’d been thinking violent thoughts about him just a moment ago. “Thanks.”

“How come you made yourself look so silly?” Angus demanded.

“Silly?”

“Yes. All skinny and your conk so big?”

“My—conk?”

“Your nose.”

She shrugged. “Guess that’s how I see myself.”

“But you’re beautiful, Kenzie!”