* * *
Likeseemed too tame a word for it. Considering he’d barely spoken to Kenzie before today, Evan had no way to classify his feelings. He didn’tknowthe woman. He found her beautiful and funny, but his emotions concerning her didn’t make sense. Evan didn’t do superficial relationships, and what did he and Kenzie really have but a few conversations, a knife, and a missing phone between them? Yet his entire mind and body buzzed when around the woman.
Daniel waited for his answer.
“I don’t know your sister, but she seems nice and intelligent. And she’s beyond beautiful.”
Daniel grunted in response, and Evan wondered how exactly he’d been put on the spot by a thirteen-year-old boy.
He distracted the kid by pointing out the different satellite radio channels and letting him fiddle until he found a techno station he liked. Evan didn’t mind it, though he preferred classic rock.
They pulled up to Kenzie’s.
“You should park in the driveway. You don’t want anyone messing with your car.”
“It’s not safe here?” Evan didn’t like the thought of Kenzie and Daniel living in a dangerous area. Though he wouldn’t have pegged the neighborhood to be anything close to seedy.
“Nah. But Lila isn’t the best driver, and we have a lot of super-old people on this block.”
“Really? I saw a bunch of families the last time I was here.”
“Todd a few doors down is forty-two. Mr. McCally is eighty-four, but his grandkids drive him around. And they’re probably Todd’s age.”
“Right. Old.” Evan bit back a laugh. “So I’m not considered old yet.”
“Oh no. You’re old. Just not super-old.”
Good to know.He followed Daniel inside and saw the same clean counters and picked-up house he’d seen on his last visit. “You have tools?”
“I’ll go get them. Hold on.” Daniel went through a door into the garage.
Evan absorbed the feel of the place, seeing hints of Kenzie in everything. Light and airy, with bright colors and a fresh feel, her house felt like a home. The place charmed and was beyond clean.
So, Kenzie was a neat freak.
She had a ton of cookbooks, many on dessert making. No doodads or frippery. Everything seemed to have a purpose, but what she possessed had touches of whimsy. An octopus egg timer. A cartoony dishtowel. Scooby Doo magnets on the fridge and anime figurines sitting in the corner of the kitchen window. They might have belonged to Daniel, but he had a feeling Kenzie could claim her share.
Colorful stoneware plates and flat, silver utensils sat in the dish drainboard. Even her glasses went with her décor, fun and funky but practical all the same.
A short walk through her living room showed him pictures of her and Daniel, with more of Rachel and Lila scattered around. He noticed an older photo of a young Kenzie and her parents but nothing of Daniel with them. He wondered about that, about what had happened to leave her in charge of a teenager, but he didn’t feel at a place in their sudden relationship to ask.
He still couldn’t believe he’d actually gotten to talk to her, let alone been invited to come to her house. He found himself counting their coffee date as a real date and felt foolish for being so happy about it. So they’d had coffee. So what?
Kenzie blew through the door, the woman always in perpetual motion. Even at the coffee shop she’d seemed too energetic to be truly still.
“Oh good. You’re here.” She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Nice car.”
“Thanks.” He couldn’t stop himself from staring at her, wondering if she’d get mad if he tucked that strand behind her ear. “Daniel’s in the garage getting the tools.”
She blinked back at him and flushed. Had he been staring too hard? Giving her an odd look? “Oh. Okay. Come on. I’ll show you the water heater.”
They walked downstairs into an airy basement.
“Wow. This place is great.” It wasn’t at all dark. Daylight streamed through several high-set windows, and the walls were painted a warm, buttery yellow, accented with white built-ins and colorful pillows and throws. Facing each other in a loose triangle, three standing desks with large monitors occupied a far corner yet didn’t detract from the roominess of the space.
“It’s home, and it’s work.” She sighed. “I love working from home, don’t get me wrong. But I always feel guilty when I’m not at my desk.”
“I feel the same now that I’m working from a home office.” One he really needed to get organized. Though he had much less than half the workload he’d had at Peterson & Campbell, he had enough to keep an office full of paper stacks and in- and out-boxes.
