She struggled to regain her composure as she slipped on her sandals. Reminded herself that, good-looking though he might be, he was still a member of that greedy, grasping, heartless class of professionals who lived for the thrill of making money, of working a judge and jury until their clients went free whether they knew them to be guilty or not.
Like her father.
Whom she had loved desperately as a little girl but who had betrayed her in the end, and who had turned everyone in her family but her mother against her when Kenzie had courageously exposed him for the man he was.
Even after all this time the pain of it clawed at her.
“Kenzie?”
She had to swallow before she could answer. “Yes, Angus?”
“You look really, really pretty.”
She gave a strangled laugh of gratitude and relief and pulled him impulsively into her arms. “Happy birthday, you little goof-ball! How does it feel to be eight?”
“I feel very grown-up, thank you.”
Was it her imagination, or did he look a little disappointed when she let him go? She hugged him again for good measure. Funny, but she’d forgotten how good it felt to hug a kid.
Straightening, she found herself eye-to-eye with Ross. He was wearing his lawyer’s look again, revealing absolutely nothing of what he was thinking.
Her chin tipped. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“It was Angus’s idea.”
“Oh.” Her heart sank.
“And he’s right. You do look really, really pretty.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
The way he said it made a shiver flee down her spine. Confused and breathless, she gathered up her purse, sunglasses and a padded envelope from the kitchen table.
Angus’s eyes lit up. “What’s that?”
“Your present, of course. As if you didn’t know.”
“It’s not very big.”
“There are a couple of saying here in America, Angus. Maybe you have them in England, too— Good things come in small packages. And curiosity killed the cat.”
“My grannie always used to say that to me.”
“She probably had good reason to.”
Outside, Angus gallantly held open the car door for her.
“But you’re the birthday boy. You should sit up front.”
He dimpled. “But you’re the guest of honor.”
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