Kennedy,” he
offered the best smile he could manage.
“But I’m not finished with my tea,” she
resisted.
“Oh, yes you are.” Drake pulled Kennedy to
her feet and wrapped one arm around her waist. “Thanks, Martin, for
the drinks.” Drake ignored the questioning expression on the man’s
face. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” The mayor’s and several other
patrons’ goodbyes were called to their retreating backs.
It wasn’t until Drake parked in the Malone
driveway that he realized he left his camera on the table at the
pub. He shot a cross look at Kennedy, who was already climbing out
the passenger door. No way could he go back for it and risk leaving
her alone with her parents. She might say something they would both
regret. Drake would just have to trust Martin to take care of the
camera for him. At the moment he had his hands full, he decided as
he emerged from the vehicle.
“Oh my God, would you look at those stars!”
Kennedy enthused from her position on the ground. Drake did a
double take. She lay flat on her back staring up at the heavens. He
couldn’t take his eyes off the woman for a second.
“Everything looks more interesting when
you’re a little tipsy,” he explained as he helped her to her
feet.
Kennedy threw her arms around his neck and
sagged against him. She made a pleasant sound in her throat. “I
never noticed how good you smell before, Drake.” She pressed her
face to this throat and he tensed. “Really nice,” she murmured.
“Good enough to eat.” She giggled.
“Let’s get you inside,” he suggested and
propelled her toward the door.
“You’re the most handsome man I know,” she
told him as they made an unsteady journey up the steps and across
the porch. “And I know plenty.”
“Thanks, Kennedy. I’ll remind you of that
tomorrow and see if you still fell the same way.” Drake opened the
door and then closed it behind him once he had Kennedy through it.
He could just imagine hoe appalled Kennedy would feel at her
actions come morning.
“D.D.! Sweetpea!” Chuck met them in the
foyer, decked out in love beads and a Nehru jacket. “We’re about to
start a bonfire out back and have our mini Woodstock. Would you two
like to join us?”
“I think we’re going to call it a night,”
Drake said quickly, hoping Kennedy wouldn’t protest.
She giggled. “You really look cool,
Daddy.”
Chuck deposited a kiss on his daughter’s
forehead, then headed back toward the kitchen as if nothing were
amiss. “See you kids later.”
Weak with relief, Drake ushered Kennedy
toward the stairs. She stalled before they took their first step
up. He glowered at her. If she wanted to go outside and join the
Woodstock re-enactors, he would simply have to throw her over his
shoulder and carry her upstairs.
“We have to do something right now, Drake,”
she whispered conspiratorially. “Aliens have invaded my parents’
bodies.”
She looked so serious. Drake chucked her
beneath the chin and smiled. “Don’t worry, sweetpea. They’ll be
back to normal come Sunday.” As would the rest of the town, he
didn’t add. Everywhere they looked people were wearing one retro
look or the other.
The rest of the journey to Kennedy’s bedroom
was uneventful. Drake was grateful she didn’t put up a fuss. He
would bet his next paycheck she had never been drunk before in her
entire prim and proper life. Once he had her settled on the end of
the bed, he knelt in front of her and removed her shoes.
“Drake, you’re amazing. Did you know
that?”
He set the second shoe aside and looked up
hesitantly. Kennedy wore a dreamy expression that seriously
unsettled his equilibrium.
“Thanks.” He stood, uncertain of what to do
next. The lacy canopy draping Kennedy’s bed served as a reminder
that she was not only his friend, but inexperienced and
vulnerable.
She stood on shaky legs. “In fact,” she said
suggestively, “I’ve been thinking about nothing but you for days
and days.”
offered the best smile he could manage.
“But I’m not finished with my tea,” she
resisted.
“Oh, yes you are.” Drake pulled Kennedy to
her feet and wrapped one arm around her waist. “Thanks, Martin, for
the drinks.” Drake ignored the questioning expression on the man’s
face. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” The mayor’s and several other
patrons’ goodbyes were called to their retreating backs.
It wasn’t until Drake parked in the Malone
driveway that he realized he left his camera on the table at the
pub. He shot a cross look at Kennedy, who was already climbing out
the passenger door. No way could he go back for it and risk leaving
her alone with her parents. She might say something they would both
regret. Drake would just have to trust Martin to take care of the
camera for him. At the moment he had his hands full, he decided as
he emerged from the vehicle.
“Oh my God, would you look at those stars!”
Kennedy enthused from her position on the ground. Drake did a
double take. She lay flat on her back staring up at the heavens. He
couldn’t take his eyes off the woman for a second.
“Everything looks more interesting when
you’re a little tipsy,” he explained as he helped her to her
feet.
Kennedy threw her arms around his neck and
sagged against him. She made a pleasant sound in her throat. “I
never noticed how good you smell before, Drake.” She pressed her
face to this throat and he tensed. “Really nice,” she murmured.
“Good enough to eat.” She giggled.
“Let’s get you inside,” he suggested and
propelled her toward the door.
“You’re the most handsome man I know,” she
told him as they made an unsteady journey up the steps and across
the porch. “And I know plenty.”
“Thanks, Kennedy. I’ll remind you of that
tomorrow and see if you still fell the same way.” Drake opened the
door and then closed it behind him once he had Kennedy through it.
He could just imagine hoe appalled Kennedy would feel at her
actions come morning.
“D.D.! Sweetpea!” Chuck met them in the
foyer, decked out in love beads and a Nehru jacket. “We’re about to
start a bonfire out back and have our mini Woodstock. Would you two
like to join us?”
“I think we’re going to call it a night,”
Drake said quickly, hoping Kennedy wouldn’t protest.
She giggled. “You really look cool,
Daddy.”
Chuck deposited a kiss on his daughter’s
forehead, then headed back toward the kitchen as if nothing were
amiss. “See you kids later.”
Weak with relief, Drake ushered Kennedy
toward the stairs. She stalled before they took their first step
up. He glowered at her. If she wanted to go outside and join the
Woodstock re-enactors, he would simply have to throw her over his
shoulder and carry her upstairs.
“We have to do something right now, Drake,”
she whispered conspiratorially. “Aliens have invaded my parents’
bodies.”
She looked so serious. Drake chucked her
beneath the chin and smiled. “Don’t worry, sweetpea. They’ll be
back to normal come Sunday.” As would the rest of the town, he
didn’t add. Everywhere they looked people were wearing one retro
look or the other.
The rest of the journey to Kennedy’s bedroom
was uneventful. Drake was grateful she didn’t put up a fuss. He
would bet his next paycheck she had never been drunk before in her
entire prim and proper life. Once he had her settled on the end of
the bed, he knelt in front of her and removed her shoes.
“Drake, you’re amazing. Did you know
that?”
He set the second shoe aside and looked up
hesitantly. Kennedy wore a dreamy expression that seriously
unsettled his equilibrium.
“Thanks.” He stood, uncertain of what to do
next. The lacy canopy draping Kennedy’s bed served as a reminder
that she was not only his friend, but inexperienced and
vulnerable.
She stood on shaky legs. “In fact,” she said
suggestively, “I’ve been thinking about nothing but you for days
and days.”
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