Keeping Kate (Reunion: Hannah, Michael & Kate #3)

by Pat Warren

  “Hey, Dad, it’s five o’clock somewhere, isn’t it?” Then he apparently rethought his position. “Just kidding. Wine it is.” Next, he zeroed in on Jamie. “Look at you, sweetheart. You were just a little munchkin the last time I saw you.”

  Shy with strangers, Jamie clung to Kate, watching the newcomer warily.

  “Look what Uncle Johnny’s got for you.” He held out a pink-polka-dotted pig wearing a silly green hat and purple boots. No ordinary brown bears from this uncle, evidently.

  Jamie’s brown eyes grew wide and she cautiously reached out, took the pig, then buried her face in Kate’s neck. Her grandfather laughed.

  “I don’t think she remembers you, Johnny,” his father said as Aaron served the wine.

  But Johnny’s attention had shifted to the woman who held his niece, his dark eyes sliding over her features ap provingly. “Well, big brother, you’ve been holding out on me. We didn’t have nannies like this when we were kids.” He touched her arm and squeezed it with long, slender fingers.

  He was nearly as tall as Aaron, with the same dark hair worn considerably longer and deep dimples in both cheeks. Though he was beautifully dressed and trying to be affable, his smile was arrogant and his manner too bold for just having met her. Johnny Carver didn’t exactly remind her of Evan Falkner, for they looked nothing alike. But the dapper self-assurance was all too familiar.

  Moving to her side, Aaron introduced them. “Kate, my brother, Johnny. Kate Spencer.” Unaware his jaw was clenched, he waited.

  “Kate.” Johnny’s smile widened. “What a beautiful name.” He held out the bouquet, shoving aside the green florist’s paper to reveal a dozen red roses. “For you, lovely lady.”

  She couldn’t be rude in front of Aaron’s father, so she put on a smile. “Thank you. I’ll get a vase.” But when she tried to hand Jamie to her father, the baby tightened her arms around Kate’s neck. She sent Aaron a helpless look.

  “I’ll put them in water,” Aaron said, taking the flowers. What he’d like to have done was throw them into the trash, he thought on the way to the kitchen, then was annoyed with himself for being uncharitable. Johnny was just being…Johnny.

  He located a vase and added water, his ear turned toward the living room, where he could hear his brother beginning one of his farfetched tales of his trips abroad, painting himself as the hero, naturally. He reached for a rose, and his thumb found a thorn instead. Under his breath, he swore inventively.

  What was wrong with him, getting so worked up? If Johnny wanted to fawn over Kate, and if she wanted to let him, it was no business of his. She was free as a bird, and so was he. He thrust another flower into the vase, his movements choppy. Even though he’d warned her what Johnny was like, he was certain his brother would charm her by evening’s end. Fine. It would serve her right if she fell for that line of bull. He cut his finger again and swore out loud this time.

  Finally finished, Aaron carried the vase of roses into the living room and set it on a side table. Just as he’d thought, Johnny was next to Kate on the two-seater talking and laughing. Jamie was wide-eyed and quiet, and even his father was listening.

  Stepping over, Aaron cleared his throat. “Kate, I could use you in the kitchen. Dad, will you take Jamie, please?”

  Surprised at his tone, Kate handed the baby over to William, then glanced over at the flowers. She almost laughed out loud. They looked as if Jamie might have arranged them, each rose stuck in at odd angles, the fern sprouting out of the middle in an unruly clump. Someone’s upset, she thought, wisely hiding her smile as she followed Aaron to the kitchen.

  “Kate,” William said, leaning back in his chair, “that’s the best dressing I’ve ever eaten.”

  “The whole dinner was wonderful,” Johnny said, shoving his chair back and patting his flat stomach. “You sure don’t get meals like that on the road.” He leaned toward Kate, seated across from him alongside Jamie’s high chair. “Do you suppose I could persuade you to marry me, Kate?”

  By the irritated look on Aaron’s face, she knew she had to play down Johnny’s frivolous remarks. He hadn’t said much during dinner, but then, none of them had with his brother holding court. She smiled sweetly at Johnny. “It seems a lot of trouble to go to. Why don’t I just give you the recipe?” Picking up a dish, she held it out to him. “More cranberries?”

  Jamie chose that moment to bang her spoon on her high-chair tray, diverting everyone’s attention.

  “Ah, I have a taker.” Kate spooned a tiny mound of cranberries on the baby’s plate, grateful for the interruption. Rising, she picked up her own half-finished plate. She’d simply been too nervous to eat much. “I’ll just clear these before we cut the pie.”

  Aaron grabbed his own plate and stood. “I’ll help you.”

  In the kitchen, Kate dumped the scraps into the sink and bent to place the plate in the dishwasher as Aaron came up behind her. One glance at his stormy face, and she decided she had to say something before he made a scene. “Is something wrong? You seem a little edgy.” She noticed he hadn’t finished his plate, either. “Was it the dinner?”

  “The dinner was fine. Wonderful, in fact. It’s my brother. He’s such an ass.”

  Kate straightened, watching him angrily pace the kitchen. Maybe this dated back to their childhood. Perhaps they hadn’t gotten along even then. If not that, she was at a loss. “Look, I know he monopolizes the conversation and he’s a show-off and…”

  “Do you?”

  She frowned. “Of course. Did you think I was believing his inflated version of his travels?”

  “Hell, I don’t know.” And more important, he didn’t know why the whole day was bothering him. They’d had such a pleasant morning, talking, working alongside one another, laughing. Then they’d sat by the fire while Jamie had napped, watching Green Bay beat the Lions. He’d felt better than he’d dared dream he would on any holiday this particular year. Then Johnny had arrived and he’d become…become jealous.

  The truth hit him like a fist to the belly. How could he be jealous? You have to care a great deal for someone to become jealous of another man’s attention toward her. No, he was merely protective of his employees. He’d have done the same if Johnny had carried on over Fitz. The fact that that mental picture didn’t compute was something he didn’t want to dwell on just now.

  Aaron walked over to Kate, his expression still angry—at his brother, himself and maybe even her. “You know he’s making a play for you?”

  “What?” That she found ridiculous. “Oh, come on. He’s just a blowhard. He can’t resist bragging, and I’m someone new to try to impress. The rest of you know him too well.”

  “You’re wrong. Wait and see. He’ll make his move.”

  She’d had about enough. “What if he does, Aaron? Do you think I’m incapable of handling your brother?”

  Deliberately, he relaxed his clenched fists. “Do what you want.” He left the kitchen.

  Aaron helped his father with his coat, his smile forced. They were finally leaving, and he could have cheered. He honestly couldn’t recall ever feeling this way before.

  Kate stood off to the side holding Jamie, who’d spent most of the evening in her arms or on her lap. Now she watched Johnny come over to them and braced herself.

  “It was a great pleasure meeting you,” he said, his eyes caressing her face.

  “Thank you. Same here.”

  Johnny lowered his voice. “Listen, I hope I’m not out of line here, but are you dating anyone special?”

  She sensed Aaron listening, even though he appeared to be in a conversation with his father. Still, she couldn’t lie. “No, not really.”

  “Good. I’d like to see you again. We could drive to Detroit and catch a play. You must get days off. How about Saturday night? I’ll get the tickets. Dinner first?”

  Kate wasn’t surprised by his invitation, but she wondered if he was doing it because he wanted to be with her or because he knew he was annoying Aaron. However, she�
��d known what her answer would be before he’d asked. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”

  He was undaunted, and his smile didn’t waver. “Another time, then.” He turned to his father, taking out his keys. “Ready to go, Dad?”

  “Yes. Again, thank you both for a wonderful dinner.” He smiled at Kate, kissed the baby’s cheek and hugged his son before walking out the door Aaron held open.

  Johnny stepped up, grinned at Aaron and clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, thanks, big brother. The food was great, but the company was even better. See you around.”

  Silently, Aaron closed the door after them. Slowly, he turned to see Kate watching him. “Do I win the cigar?”

  “I didn’t realize there was a contest. And frankly, I don’t know why you care either way.” She snuggled the sleepy little girl closer. “Come on, Jamie. Let’s get you ready for bed.”

  Aaron watched her go upstairs and wanted to hit something hard. He’d boxed in college and wished now that he’d saved his punching bag. It would get rid of some of his pent-up frustrations, both mental and physical.

  He moved to the picture window and stood looking out at a light snowfall. I don’t know why you care either way, Kate had said. Did he care? Aaron asked himself.

  Chapter Eight

  The Saturday after Thanksgiving brought with it an overnight snowfall that measured eight inches by early morning, highly unusual for so early in the season. The weather forecasters, caught by surprise, blamed it on a cold front rolling down from Canada. The few adults who had to work grumbled and groaned that every year the small city of St. Clair was paralyzed by just such a storm, and why wasn’t the highway cleanup crew more prepared with trucks and salt at the ready?

  The children didn’t blame anyone; they just cheered, then went out to play in the powdery white stuff.

  Standing with Jamie in her arms at the big kitchen window looking out at the huge mounds piled up in the backyard, Kate laughed with pleasure. “Look over there, sweetie, the rock garden’s buried, and the shed looks like a drunken tower leaning to one side.”

  The little girl picked up on Kate’s enthusiasm and clapped her hands together delightedly.

  “And the trees,” Kate went on, “look at their big arms all white now, no more leaves.” She hugged the baby to her. “Maybe later, we can go out there and play, build a snowman.”

  “Or have a snowball fight,” Aaron said, coming into the kitchen. “We could each build a fort and stockpile our ammo, then may the best man—or woman or child-win.” Sipping coffee, he joined them at the window.

  “Is that what you and Johnny used to do when you were young?” she dared ask. His brother hadn’t been mentioned by either of them since two days ago when he’d left after dinner. Kate hated subjects that were off limits.

  “Yeah, we did.” Aaron was in too good a mood to let even the mention of his brother upset him. Besides, in thinking things over, he’d realized he’d gotten annoyed for nothing. Johnny had probably been trying to test him, and after all, Kate hadn’t accepted his invitation.

  The question she’d brought up about why he should care hadn’t been addressed, but he didn’t feel like thinking too hard just now. He’d spent all day Friday at his office and had gotten a great deal accomplished. He and Kate had decided separately to get along and they had, so well that he’d called Fitz and told her she could stay on at her daughter’s longer if she liked. Fitz had agreed quickly. Too quickly. Was she really needing more time away or was she trying to matchmake? Aaron wondered.

  They’d spent a quiet Friday evening eating leftovers and avoiding controversial subjects. He’d decided to spend the weekend getting caught up on a few things that needed doing around the house. But the unexpected snow had changed those plans.

  He turned to Kate, deciding he’d show her how flexible he could be. Next to his dashing brother, Aaron had a feeling he came across as stodgy, set in his ways, maybe even dull. Perhaps he’d let himself get that way over the past few months, turning too inward. He remembered a time when he’d been fun, impulsive, spontaneous. He liked to think he could be that way again.

  “Who won?” Kate asked.

  Aaron frowned, his thoughts causing him to lose track of the conversation. “Won what?”

  “The snowball fight when you and Johnny were boys?”

  “I did,” he said, truthfully, not boasting. “I was always bigger even back then. Johnny had a bout with rheumatic fever that set him back, so his spurt of growth didn’t occur until he was about fifteen. He still has trouble keeping weight on.”

  She saw no animosity or resentment in his eyes this morning. Perhaps his peculiar behavior on Thursday had been a one-time thing. Little did he know he had absolutely no reason to be jealous of his brother or any other man. He was the one she wanted, the one she would have if only he’d give her the slightest encouragement.

  Aaron drained his cup and reached for his baby, who immediately pulled his hair in a game they often played. “Ouch!” he said, pretending she was getting the best of him. He reached to gently tug on the little topknot that Kate had arranged on her head, gathering up the babyfine hair and wrapping an elasticized band around it in the same bright red as her corduroy pants. Kate had picked up bands in several bright colors when she’d gone shopping on her own and surprised him. He had to admit that, guided by Kate’s fine hand, his daughter looked sweetly feminine.

  Again, she pulled on his hair, and he ducked his head. “Owie! You’re giving Daddy an owie.” He kissed her before setting her down to toddle off. “Maybe I should get a haircut.”

  “I’ll cut it if you like. I cut my own.”

  “You do?”

  “Mmm-hmm.

  “Who taught you, your mother?”

  “Oh, no, not Mom. She had a standing appointment every Friday morning at a very chic beauty shop. My nanny, Glynis, taught me. She’d been a professional hairdresser before coming to work for us.”

  It had taken Kate until her teens to fully realize just how vain her adoptive mother was. She’d often thought that Carol Spencer should have chosen a boy instead of a girl, for when Kate began to blossom, her mother had had difficulty handling the competition of a much younger and prettier female in the house. Kate had taken her father’s lead and downplayed her looks to avoid setting Carol off. The situation had caused endless problems and was the real reason she’d drawn closer to George.

  Bringing her thoughts back to Aaron, she was amused at the skeptical look on his face as she watched him try to decide whether or not to let her near him with a pair of scissors. “Well?”

  Kate’s hair certainly looked lovely, the cut expertly done. “All right, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

  “I’ll go get my scissors.”

  Seated in a kitchen chair with a large towel draped over his shoulders and his head bent, Aaron decided he now knew what the Chinese water torture felt like. Kate worked slowly on his hair, snipping here, cutting there, combing to check. Meanwhile, her small but strong hands were touching him—his ears, his neck, his scalp. He couldn’t have guessed her touch would affect him so obviously, he thought as he squirmed in the chair.

  “You have to sit still or you’re going to wind up looking very funny,” she warned him, unaware of the cause of his restlessness.

  Now she was leaning down close enough that he could feel her warm breath on his neck. He felt color rise in his cheeks and his jeans becoming uncomfortably tight. Again, he moved, trying to conceal his problem.

  Kate nearly nipped his ear with the sharp shears before she caught herself. Exasperated, she faced him. “Is something the matter? I can stop if you’d rather. Do you wiggle around like this in your barber’s chair?”

  “My barber’s a man,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Suddenly, it dawned on her. She’d truly had no idea. “Oh,” she said softly. “Well, now that we’ve started…”

  “Just finish. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll try to hurry.”
Hiding a smile, Kate went back to work. So her touch was exciting him, was it? Here she’d been enjoying the feel of his thick hair in her fingers and stroking the strong muscles of his neck. It had been pure pleasure, not necessarily arousal. However, it could turn that way if…

  “Da-da,” Jamie said, standing at Aaron’s knee, her innocent little face beaming at him.

  Aaron broke into a smile. “What did you say, pumpkin?”

  She shook her head, unwilling to repeat herself, and toddled off clutching Elmo.

  Aaron swung around. “Did you hear what I did?”

  “Yes. She said da-da.” Pleased for him, she wouldn’t reveal for the world that she’d been practicing with Jamie for days now.

  “That’s one smart little girl,” Aaron said with pride.

  “And she’s going to have one bald father if you don’t sit still,” Kate warned again.

  “Yes, ma’am.” His daughter had defused the situation, diverting his uncontrollable thoughts about the woman who seemed oblivious to what she could do to him. “After this, why don’t we go out back and build a snowman with Jamie?” It would be safer, much safer, outside in the cold.

  “Fine by me.” Kate went on snipping.

  After half an hour playing outdoors, Jamie looked more like a snowman than the one they’d built, her yellow snowsuit covered from head to toe. She didn’t mind a bit, laughing as she rolled around on the soft white stuff, her brown eyes dancing, her cheeks red from the cold.

  “I hope she doesn’t get sick again,” Aaron said, watching her flop down and try to make angels the way Kate had showed her.

  She knew why he was constantly so worried about his daughter, so Kate was patient. “She had a virus, Aaron. She can’t get that out here. She’s bundled up and plenty warm. This is both healthy and fun.”

  He pushed back the memory of his daughter lying so still in the hospital bed, and bent down to stick another small stone onto the snowman’s belly for buttons. “Now for the hat.” He picked up the old felt hat he’d found in the basement, then gathered Jamie into his arms. “Here, sweetheart, you put it on.”