She took out her keys as she approached her car, and Kevin inunediately snatched them from her hand. "I'll drive," he volunteered cheerfully, and completely missed her glare as he slid behind the wheel. Kate didn't like the way he drove her car. He kept forgetting it was a Buick, not a racing-model Porsche, and that this was Elm Street, not the Santa Monica Freeway.
"You sure have some lousy weather down here," Kevin commented as she got in beside him and slammed the door. He revved the engine. "How come it's always raining whenever I come down?"
Kate smiled sweetly. "Why do you keep coming?"
He grinned and pulled out into the street. "Why, because this is home, sweetheart."
Kevin's parents had moved to Florida some years back, and Kate had thought that would put an end to his constant visits. Not so. He liked the feeling of the conquering hero returning to the place of his origin; he liked being adored but not mobbed. And the people of Victoria Bend did respect his privacy—he never passed through town without fanfare, but neither were there hordes of autograph seekers trailing him. The small lakeside town would have been the perfect place for a harried star to relax and regroup, but Kevin never stayed long enough to do either. He swept through town dispensing favors and gathering accolades and then disappeared for weeks at a time without a backward glance. Kate still wondered why he kept coming back.
Fortunately, there wasn't much traffic. Kevin's foot lay heavily on the accelerator as he turned on the radio. An announcer blasted out something about heavy thunderstorms, and Kevin pushed the button for a hard-rock station. Kate immediately reached over and changed to easy listening and lowered the volume.
"How long are you staying?" she asked, to take her mind off his maniacal driving.
''Just till this business is over with day after tomorrow. I've got a big party to go to Wednesday; then I thought I'd drop in and see my folks."
"Hmm." The sound was noncommittal. Kate winced as the car screeched to a stop at an intersection, drawing the attention of Doug McCall, who was on patrol tonight. The policeman whipped his head around, glaring suspiciously at the car, then recognized Kevin and waved. Kevin waved back. The force of his acceleration pressed Kate back against the seat.
"For heaven's sake, Kevin, the streets are wet! Slow down!"
He lowered his speed fractionally and glanced at her. "A bit wound up tonight, aren't we?"
"You seem to have that effect on me," she muttered.
He lifted an eyebrow. "My notorious sex appeal?" The look she cast him made him chuckle.
When they were younger, Kevin used to come on to her—mostly because, even as an adolescent, he couldn't seem to help making a pass at anything in skirts. Kate had never found him particularly hard to resist, but she let him kiss her once, out of curiosity more than anything else. It was the singularly most disappointing experience in her life, and Kevin had been too embarrassed by his obvious failure ever to try it again. Both were rather relieved to have the experiment out of the way so they could go back to a more comfortable relationship. If, indeed, their relationship could have ever been called comfortable.
"So tell me what's got you so uptight, love," he invited. He stretched his hand over the seat to massage the back of Kate's neck. The gesture made her nervous—not because he was touching her but because he was driving with only one hand.
Kate made a disgruntled sound and deliberately reached up and removed his hand, placing it firmly on the steering wheel. "Since when are you interested in anyone's problems but your own?"
"Since I don't have any."
"What?" She feigned amazement. "No crisis in your love life? No fights with the network? No gruesome contract negotiations, no sudden desperate yearning to know the meaning of life?"
He did not even have the grace to look abashed. He shook his head confidently. "Nope. Everything's rolling along as smooth as silk. Couldn't be happier. Do you want to stop somewhere and get a drink?"
"Are you an alcoholic now?"
"No, just thirsty."
She glanced at him suspiciously. "I don't get it. Why would you want to have a drink with me unless it's to cry out your problems on my shoulder?"
He repressed a long-suffering sigh. "It couldn't be that I'm just being friendly?"
She laughed softly, shaking her head. Kevin, in small doses, could be quite endearing, which was, of course, the only reason she had put up with him as long as she had. She reminded him, "It's a dry county, Dawson. If you want anything to drink, you're going to have to send your driver across the line for it."
He made a sudden sharp left turn into the supermarket. "Never mind. I'd rather eat than drink, anyway."
He pulled up shortly into the fire lane and jerked on the emergency brake. He turned to her persuasively. "You don't mind running in and getting a few things for dinner, do you? I would, but it would take me forever to get out, and I know you're in a hurry."
The warm humor she had felt for him a moment ago dissipated immediately into a more familiar sentiment, and she glared at him. She must have been crazy to think she could evade his manipulation; his technique was flawless. He had to eat, and there were no supplies at his house. And he was right; if he went in, he would be tied up for hours, greeting friends and would-be friends, shaking hands and receiving congratulations and giving little pieces of himself to eager fans who would make him the prime topic of dinner-table conversation tonight. It would have been simpler, Kate realized now, to have invited him home for dinner in the first place, for Kevin Dawson always got what he wanted, one way or another.
He was looking at her, those sweet brown eyes softened with a confident smile, and there was nothing Kate could say. With an impatient, irritated puff of breath, she got out of the car and slammed the door hard behind her, stalking into the store.
Chapter Two
Getting in and out of the store in a hurry was not all that much easier for Kate than it would have been for Kevin. There had been, off and on, speculation over the years that the local doctor and the famous TV star were lovers—which was only natural, considering the way Kevin zeroed in on her whenever he was in town—and despite her best efforts, not everyone remained convinced they were only friends. At any rate, it was only assumed that Kate knew everything there was to know about Kevin, and everyone she saw had some message to pass along to him.
She moved as quickly as she could through the aisles, reaching instinctively for Kevin's favorites and tossing them into the cart. For her own part, she would have been happy to have supplied him with a can of spaghetti and a pint of milk for his dinner, but she knew the gesture would be futile. He would only find a way to maneuver her into a real dinner sooner or later, and she would save herself the trouble by doing it right the first time. There was no winning a battle of wills with Kevin Dawson.
It had begun to drizzle when she came out, and a small crowd had gathered at the car, talking to Kevin through the window. He was leaning back against the seat laughing and quipping with his adoring fans and basking in the attention. Friends and neighbors greeted Kate as she came up; someone was eager to take Kevin's groceries and put them in the back seat, and it was up to Kate to make the fatal announcement. "Sorry, folks," she said. "We've got to get the ice cream into the freezer before it melts. We'll see you all at the ceremony Wednesday, okay?"
They broke up reluctantly but with goodwill, calling goodbyes to Kevin and conferring among themselves about what a really nice person Kevin Dawson was. Kevin waved his final goodbyes and started the engine.
"Don't you ever get tired of it?" Kate asked curiously.
"What?"
"All the attention. Not being able to make a move without a crowd following you. Having to be 'on' all the time."
He laughed, glancing at her in surprise. Kate was relieved to notice he was negotiating the crowded parking lot with a bit more care than he had used on the main roads. "Are you kidding? I love it. Why should I get tired of it?"
Kate was genuinely puzzled. Being an inten
sely private person herself, she had never understood how anyone could enjoy the type of life Kevin led—but that was only one of the many things she had never understood about him. She said, shrugging a little, "I don't know. The lack of privacy seems to be the biggest complaint among celebrities, but it never seems to bother you. I mean, what happens if you have a bad day and just want to be left alone?"
"I never have bad days," he returned smugly. "That's what makes me so good at what I do."She looked at him with helplessness mixed with amusement, not knowing why she should have expected any other response. Only people with depth of character experienced identity crises. Kevin barely had any character, much less depth.
She shrugged and leaned back against the seat, commenting, "Well, I'll give you credit—you've certainly stuck with it longer than I ever would have thought. I figured you'd have grown bored with the show long before now and started throwing tantrums for bigger and better things."
"Hell, no," he replied cheerfully, and swung onto the highway. "I never had any ambition; you know that. Besides, I love old Colt—he's my alter ego. Always thinking on his feet, rescuing damsels in distress, brave and smart and as solid as a brick. There's nothing that man can't do. He always has the right change when he has to make a lifesaving phone call, always finds a parking place at the airport when he has three minutes to stop a plane from taking off, can run a mile uphill with crooks dogging his every step and not even get winded... Who wouldn't like to have a life like that? Like I said, I've got it made."
Kate laughed softly, shaking her head. "Oh, Kevin, won't you ever grow up?"
He cast a twinkling glance at her. **Nope. Did you really get ice cream?"
"No." She extended her hand. "That'll be thirty-two dollars and eighteen cents, by the way."
He managed to look regretful and adorable at the same time. "Sorry, I don't have any cash. Do you take American Express?"
Kate made a bitter face and dropped her hand. Typical.
Kevin had a luxurious lake house in a secluded cove five miles from town, complete with Jacuzzi, sauna, in door pool and gym. The taxes on it alone had gone a long way toward building the new civic center, and Kevin used it less than a dozen nights a year. The rest of the time the house stood empty, for Kevin did not bother to employ caretakers; the pool grew algae, cobwebs collected, mildew stained the draperies, and hinges rusted. About one a year he took it into his head to replace all the furnishings and oftentimes didn't even have a chance to see what his latest decorator had wrought before it was time to redo everything again. That, too, was typical of the kind of careless extravagance Kate couldn't help but abhor.
He made an abrupt right-hand turn onto a narrov gravel road, and Kate sat up sharply. "What are you doing? Don't take my car down this road—there's been construction here, and there are nails and potholes all over the place!"
"It's a shortcut," he replied easily. "I thought you were in a hurry."
Kate winced as gravel banged against the undercarriage and the wheels bounced wildly over a hidden dip. Kevin didn't slow his speed. "You crazy person!" She had to shout over the sound of rocks and debris destroying her car. "You're going to get us both killed!"
He reached over and patted her leg, smiling at her soothingly. "You're a fussy old maid, Katie dear. Relax. I know this road like the back of my hand."
"Will you watch where you're going?"
The car bounced over a pile of loose boards that had strayed from a nearby house under construction, and Kevin glanced out his window curiously. "The place is really growing up. Who are my new neighbors?"
Kate groaned and pressed her head against the headiest, closing her eyes.
The three minutes that the car dipped and careened down the twisting makeshift road seemed like three hours as Kate counted every dent and scratch and imagined just how serious the accident they were about to have was likely to be. With a spray of gravel and grinding protest of the sliding back tires, Kevin pulled up in front of his own house and announced cheerfully, "Well, here we are. Thanks for the ride."
Kate gave him a look that could have killed a man twice his size and flung herself out of the car. Kevin followed at a leisurely, mildly curious pace as she stalked around the vehicle, inspecting the damage. "You're so picky, Katie," he complained. "You always were. I didn't hurt your car. I got us here okay, didn't I?"
"You are the most inconsiderate, self-centered, thoughtless, careless excuse for a human being I've ever had the misfortune to know," she grated, restraining more colorful epithets with a great effort. Her tolerance level for Kevin had been reached the moment he ordered her into the grocery store, and now it was long since surpassed. "Didn't your mother ever teach you respect for the property of others?"
"Hey," he objected defensively, "there's no need to bring my mother into this."
"Oh, just shut up and take your groceries into the house, will you? I've done my Christian duty; I've brought you home. Now go away." I Kevin had the good sense to shut up, but he did not go away. He followed her with a modicum of polite concern on her tour around the car. In the darkening twilight she could see very little—a few chips and scratches a leafy branch pinned between the drive shaft and the chassis, and—
"Oops, a nail in the tire." Kevin bent down. "Gee, I'm sorry, Katie."
"Kevin, don't—"
He worked his fingers under the protruding head of the nail and deftly pulled it out. Kate stared in dismay as air began to hiss from the newly created hole at an alarming rate.
"—pull it out," she finished flatly, and Kevin looked up at her with a weak smile of apology.
Kate compressed her lips tightly and without a word stepped around him and reached inside the driver's door to unlatch the trunk. Kevin got to his feet. "Come on Katie, don't get mad. It's just a tire. You take life too seriously, you know."
She walked around to the trunk and flung it open reaching inside for the tools. Kevin followed her. "What's the big deal? We'll go inside and call the garage."
"The garage is closed," she said tightly, and pushed past him.
"Oh." He leaned against the car, watching as she braced her legs and used the tool to pop off the hubcap. The tire was completely flat now. "Well, here..." He pushed away reluctantly. "I'll do it, I guess."
She glared at him. "Do you have any idea how to change a tire?"
He looked a bit disconcerted. "Well, it can't be all that hard. And anyway, you're a doctor. You shouldn't hurt your hands."
Kate drew in her breath sharply and formed a small silent prayer for patience. "Where did you get that line?" she muttered, and began to work the lugs with a particular vengeance.
He grinned. "From TV."
"Welcome to real life, hotshot." She panted as she twisted the tool against the mechanically tightened bolt and then staggered backward as it abruptly loosened. With a grunt of satisfaction, she attacked the next bolt.
"At least let me help. Don't you have to put the jack on first?"
"Don't help me, Kevin," she warned grimly. The exercise was not dissipating her temper any.
He runmaged around in the trunk. "Where's the jack? Is that it? How does it work, anyway?"
"I said don't help me, Kevin."
He leaned against the trunk again and began absently twisting screws and bolts. Kate looked up just as the jack fell into three neat pieces on the ground. At that moment the sky opened up and rained torrents.
Kate straightened up slowly. Kevin looked in dismay from the broken jack to Kate's darkening features. "It was an accident," he defended quickly.
Cold rain soaked through her clothes, plastered her hair to her head and dripped into her eyes. She weighed the tire tool in her hand; her eyes narrowed grimly. "No jury in the world would convict me."
Kevin smiled uncertainly. "I wonder what Colt Marshall would do now."
She took a step toward him. "Run like hell, if he had any sense."
He threw up a hand in half surrender, half defense. "Temper, temper, Katie."
And temper was exactly what she allowed herself as she threw the tool into the trunk and snapped at him, "Well, are you just going to stand there in the rain like an idiot? Pick up that jack and let's get inside!"
Kevin hurriedly gathered up the pieces of the jack and tossed them into the trunk, barely getting his fingers out of the way before she slammed the lid. He paused only long enough to get the groceries out of the car before following her up the steps at a run.
Kate stood shivering in the eaves as he fumbled for his keys. She was quite certain that if he told her now he had forgotten his keys, homicide would not be out of the question. At last, with a smirk of triumph, he came up with the right key, and shifting the soggy grocery bag to his other hip, swung the door open.
Kate squeezed past him, glaring, as he stood in the doorway, feeling for the light switch. He found it at last and pressed the button. Nothing happened. Impatiently, Kate brushed his hand out of the way and tried it herself. Nothing.
She looked at him in the grainy darkness for a long time. "You didn't have the electricity turned on," she accused flatly.
"Sure I did. At least I think I did. I mean, I'm pretty sure I told someone to have it done Well, hell, Katie, I told you this afternoon I wasn't sure—"
"Do you have a match?"
"Wh-what?" He blinked, and the tone of his voice was suspicious, as though, in her present frame of mind, a match was far too dangerous a weapon to put in her hands.
Kate whirled and picked her way across the unfamiliar room toward the shadow of the fireplace. Running her hand along the top of the mantel, she upset a pair of candles and a piece of bric-a-brac before reaching an ornamental matchstick holder.
A three-foot circle of yellow light sprang to life around her as she struck the match, and then diffused into a wider glow as she righted the two candles and lit them. Kevin looked relieved as he came toward her. "Well, that's not too bad, is it? At least we can change our clothes and wait for the storm to stop. I'll call somebody about the electricity right now."
After The Storm (Men Made in America-- Mississippi) Page 2
