Keeping Kennedy (6 page)

Wanda closed her eyes and swooned. “I’ll bet
he’s really hung too.”

Appalled, Kennedy glared at the woman.
“Excuse me?”

Wanda snapped her eyes open and stared,
wild-eyed, back at Kennedy. She cocked one overly plucked eyebrow.
“Don’t try to fool me, Kennedy Malone. I’ve got eyes. What a
package that man has! Mm-
hmm.”

“Package?” Kennedy’s mouth gaped.

Wanda laughed drunkenly. “Oh, Kennedy.
Prissy, strait-laced Kennedy.” She gestured magnanimously for a
moment before throwing up her hands. “I’m referring to his fruit
basket. The package, you know?”

At Kennedy’s continued puzzlement, Wanda
demanded, “Haven’t you ever looked at the man’s crotch? Good Lord,
he’s a stud! Surely you’ve noticed.”

Kennedy’s mouth worked, but nothing came out.
She blinked rapidly, then tried again. “O-of course, I’ve noticed,”
she finally croaked. “He is fantastic in bed.”

Wanda grinned wickedly. “That’s what I’m
talking about.” She wobbled precariously to a stall.

~*~

Drake wiped his tingling lips with the back
of his hand. He hadn’t meant to let things get quite that out of
control, but he just couldn’t help himself. Kennedy had melted
against him, responded with real passion. The only thing that had
saved him from making a complete fool of himself was her startled
response to his forwardness. He’d been crazy with want.

Damn.

He shifted, trying like hell to calm the
raging erection Kennedy had left him with. Here he stood on the
middle of a party, surrounded by strangers, and hard as a rock for
a woman who’d never even seemed to notice he was male, much less
available.

Damn.

Looking no worse for wear, Kennedy made her
way through the mingling crowd. She paused a few feet away to chat
with a short woman, whose name, if he remembered correctly, was
Elaine. Drake closed his eyes against the vision of Kennedy in that
slinky black dress. She couldn’t have looked sexier if she’d been
naked—well, maybe that was an exaggeration. He had no doubt that
Kennedy had though t she was being conservative when she’d selected
that dress, but she’d failed miserably.

The silky fabric caressed her body rather
than draped it. The black was a vivid contrast to her creamy
coloring. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

Kennedy hadn’t moved, but she was not staring
directly at him.

Or more specifically, at his crotch.

His brow furrowed. Why the hell was she
staring at him like that?

Her gaze suddenly connected with his and
color rose high in her cheeks. Her long legs covered the short
distance between them with powerful strides. She stopped right in
front of him and leaned in close. His breath caught. Her subtle
scent made his heart thump. How could any woman who looked that
dammed sexy smell so fresh and innocent?

“Drake,” she said quietly, glancing around to
make sure no one was listening. “I appreciate that you’ve gone
above and beyond the call to look hot, but, really, it wasn’t
necessary to accessorize.”

What the hell did she mean by that? “You’ll
have to be a bit less cryptic, Kennedy.”

She licked those delicious lips, her gaze
carefully averted from his. “What are you wearing beneath those
jeans?”

Realization hit him and he smiled. So she’d
noticed. He angled his head so his lips just brushed the shell of
her ear. “Baby there’s nothing in these jeans but me. Is that a
problem?”

Kennedy jumped back like a frightened bird.
Before she could utter a comeback, Cassandra appeared. ‘Kennedy,
you remember Larry, don’t you?”

So this was Larry. Drake looked the other man
over. And how thoughtful of Cassandra to bring him right over to
Kennedy.

“Of course,” Kennedy said tightly.

Larry smiled. “Good to see you, Kennedy.”

Drake disliked the man on sight. He knew an
absolute jerk when he saw one, but he’d never say that to Kennedy.
She apparently still had feelings for the guy.

She turned to Drake. “This is Douglas
Drake.”

Drake produced a wide smile and stuck out his
hand. “Her fiancé,” he clarified.

Larry shook his hand. “So I hear.”

“I’ll have to introduce the two of you to our
children,” Cassandra enthused. “Aaron is eight, and Jessica just
turned six.”

Kennedy’s smile wavered slightly. “That would
be nice.”

Damn the woman,
Drake swore silently.
Didn’t Cassandra know when enough was enough? He hated bullies and
this woman was a bully.

“You should come by the school tomorrow
afternoon, Jessica has her dance recital.” She smiled sweetly.
“She’s a perfect little ballerina.”

“Took after her mom,” Larry added. “Dancing
has never been my forte.”

“Well.” Cassandra feigned a smile. “You have
other assets.”

Drake thought he might be sick. Kennedy
looked as though she already were. Just as Drake opened his mouth
to excuse himself and Kennedy, the crackling of a microphone
sounded.

~*~

“Girls and boys, I need your attention for
about two minutes,” a man dressed in sixties clothes announced from
the stage. He chuckled. “I guess I should say ladies and
gentlemen.” He shook his ponytailed head. “It’s still hard to
believe you’re all so damned grown up.”

Kennedy smiled a real smile for the first
time this evening. Uncle Martin. Without so much as an excuse me to
Cassandra and Larry, she bolted forward, pushing her way through
the crowd. She didn’t have to look back to know Drake followed; she
could sense him not far behind her. She paused at the left side of
the stage and waited for Martin to finish his little welcome speech
to the graduate of 1999.

“Kennedy,” her uncle boomed as he stepped off
the stage. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly.
“Lord have mercy, little girl, it’s so good to see you. It’s been
too long.” Her drew back and gave her thorough appraisal. “You’ve
grown up on me since last Christmas.” He pulled her left hand from
his shoulder and eyed the engagement ring, then grinned. “And
gotten yourself engaged.”

She swallowed back the rising guilt. She
hated deceiving her uncle. Her parents almost deserved it, but
Martin didn’t. He and Kennedy had always been two of a kind. Both
too busy with their careers and with no time for distractions like
romantic entanglements. He’d run interference for her with her
parents on that very issue too many times to count.

“Uncle Martin, I’d like you to meet Douglas
Drake.” Kennedy turned to Drake, willing her smile to remain in
place. “My fiancé. Remember, Drake, I mentioned that Uncle Martin
is the mayor of Friendly Corners.”

Martin released Kennedy and grabbed Drake’s
hand, giving it one quick but firm shake. “You’ve caught yourself
one fine lady, young fella. I hope you know how lucky you are.”

Drake smiled. “Yes, sir.” He turned a doting
smile on Kennedy. “I guess I’m about the luckiest man alive.”

Kennedy narrowed her gaze at Drake. There was
no need for him to lay it on quite that thick.

Martin slipped his arm around her shoulders
and hugged her to his side once more. “I would have been here
sooner,” he said, then gave his niece a swift peck on the forehead.
“But I had five other reunion receptions to kick off.” He smiled
fondly, but his gaze grew suddenly distant as if remembering some
faraway something. “Celia’s really outdone herself this time.”

“She’s done a great job,” Kennedy agreed,
recalling the reunion chairwoman with fond memories of her own.
Celia had been her piano teacher, and such a lovely woman.

“Name your poison, Martin,” Drake cut in, his
expression unreadable. “I’ll get us all a drink from the bar.”

Martin grinned devilishly, the ponytail
adding to the effect. “Bourbon, son. Is there anything else?”

Drake grinned then. “A man after my own
heart.” He slid a quick glance at Kennedy. “Another white
wine?”

She nodded, in spite of having insisted she
would only have one, then watched him disappear into the crowd.

“Listen to me, Kennedy.” Martin’s expression
turned uncharacteristically serious, as did his eyes. “I want to
tell you right now how proud I am of you for finally doing the
right thing.”

Her brow puckered in confusion. “Right thing?
I don’t understand.”

“Just listen,” he said firmly. “Life is too
short to waste it.” Her uncle sighed, looking old and tired. “And
it’s definitely a mistake to spend it alone.”

Kennedy choked out a laugh. “I’ve never heard
you talk like this. I thought you loved being a bachelor. How many
times have you stuck up for me on this very issue with Mom and
Dad?”

He shrugged halfheartedly and shook his head.
“Things aren’t always what they seem, Kennedy. I was wrong. I’m
just glad you didn’t wait until it was too late like I did.”

“Just one minute here.” She perched her hands
on her hips. “As long as you’re breathing, it’s never too late. If
there’s something you want in life, Uncle Martin, you just have to
reach out and grab it.” She glowered at the man she loved with all
her heart. Sidney T. Booker’s favorite phrase came to her in a
flash. “Its’ never over until it’s over,” she told Martin with a
look that she hope relayed half the meaning her boss could put into
those words.

“But—” A slow, knowing smile stole across
Martin’s face. “You might just be right, little girl.” He stroked
his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s not too late.”

“It’s never too late,” she repeated as she
gave her uncle another affectionate hug.

“Excuse me, Kennedy.”

Cassandra
again. Kennedy cringed as
she pulled away from her uncle.

The witch giggled like the idiot she was.
“Kennedy, I just wanted to remind you to pick up the revised
information packet at the sign-in table before you leave for the
evening. You’ll need it,” she added emphatically.

“Revised what?” Kennedy went on instant
alert. Cassandra never did anything helpful without an ulterior
motive.

“The information packet,” Cassandra repeated
impatiently, then smiled sweetly. “It outlines the rest of the
week’s activities in more detail, including tomorrow’s scavenger
hunt.”

“Scavenger hunt?” Sounding like a parrot,
Kennedy wilted with instant apprehension.

“A last minute addition,” Cassandra explained
with obvious pleasure. “Not to worry. Everyone’s hunt has been
especially designed for them. I’m sure you’ll find yours to your
liking.”

~*~

“A scavenger hunt!” Kennedy glared at the
paper in her hand, then crumpled it. “I can just imagine who
thought up that brilliant idea!”

She stopped halfway up the sidewalk to her
parents’ front door and whirled on Drake. “I’ll tell you who,” she
said, answering her own question. “Cassandra. She knows how I hate
the woods and anything creepy-crawly.” She shook the crumpled
information sheet at Drake as if this were his fault. “She set me
up as sure as I’m standing here.”

“What’s the big deal, Kennedy?” He shrugged.
If he’d had any idea Cassandra would return, he would have never
have left Kennedy alone with her uncle. But Drake had felt like an
intruder and thought maybe they needed some privacy. He’d
definitely needed a few moments away from her. “So we’ll do a
little hiking in the woods. I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem” she glared at him as if he were
dumb as a post “is that I don’t do hiking in the woods. Cassandra
knows that’s the one situation I can’t hold my own in. I’m telling
you, she set me up!”

Drake grinned before he could stop himself.
Damn, she was a pretty thing all riled up, even if he wasn’t
supposed to be noticing that undeniable fact. “Ah, but Cassandra
doesn’t know about your secret weapon.”

Kennedy frowned petulantly. “What secret
weapon?”

“Me.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “That’s
supposed to make me feel better?”

Ignoring her jab, he slung his arm around her
slender shoulders and guided her toward the door. “I’m right at
home in that kind of environment.”

She turned to him, the porch light
spotlighting her sweet face. “That’s right.” Her smile slowly
returned. “You’ve been in jungles and rainforests all over the
world. Bowden Park and the surrounding woods will be a breeze for
you.”

“Precisely.”

“That’s a relief.” She reached for the
doorknob, then paused, lines pleating her smooth forehead. “I can’t
shake the feeling that something’s going on with my uncle. I’ve
never heard him talk like that before.”

Drake shrugged, remembering the conversation
Kennedy had repeated to him between her bursts of anger at
Cassandra and her stupid agenda. “Maybe he was offering the only
advice he had to give.”

“Maybe.” Still looking far too worried,
Kennedy turned the knob but nothing happened. She frowned, then
turned it again. “It’s locked.”

“Don’t you have a key?”

“No,” she snapped. “My parents never lock the
house.”

He plowed a hand through his hair. He was
ready for this night to be over. Too much he hadn’t expected had
happened. “Ring the bell.”

“I don’t want to wake them.” Kennedy chewed
her lower lips and considered their predicament for a few moments.
“Let’s go around back.”

Obsessing on how it would feel if he were the
one nibbling her lips, he followed her through the darkness to the
backyard.

She climbed the three steps to the back stoop
and checked the door. “Locked, too.” She surveyed the rear of the
house. “That’s the laundry room.” She pointed to a nearby window.
“The lock on that window has been broken for years.” Kennedy
leveled her gaze on his. “If you could hoist me up there” she
gestured to the window “I could climb though and unlock the
door.”

“No problem.” He assumed a position beneath
the window, braced his feet wide apart and made a stirrup with his
hands. Kennedy placed one foot into his hands and he hoisted her
up. While she struggled with the window, he tried not to notice the
way her hips kept rubbing his jaw. He took long, deep breaths to
slow his reaction to her lithe body. He swallowed a groan when she
turned slightly and her pelvis pressed against his face.