Page 18 of Kyle
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Shopping was out of the question, of course. Black Friday's deals weren't something that had ever appealed to her. And she was restless and felt trapped. They were alone until after the holiday and she had spent the night twisting and turning, every bit conscious of the fact that he was right there down the hall.
So, she had decided to go and see her brother. She was dressed and ready to go when her phone rang. Hissing out an impatient sigh, she picked the phone up and stared at the name. Her mother was calling her. Ignoring the call would only have her persisting.
"Mother."
Her voice was formal.
"Darling."
She gushed. "I know I must be intruding, but since this is such an unusual situation, I figured I would not be interrupting."
The cattiness was unmistakable. "I'm having people over. Some friends and a few acquaintances. How would you and that delicious husband of yours like to pop on over?"
Her brows lifted, and cynicism took root. "I'm afraid that's not possible."
She offered sweetly. "Kyle and I," she opened the door just as he was going down the stairs. His name on her lips stopped him. "Darling, my mother wanted us to come over for a party. I was about to tell her that we have plans."
He stared at her askance. "Intimate dinner for two. Italian. And then we plan to spend the rest of the day watching old black and white movies. Right?"
He had no idea what to say and for a second, looked blank.
"Right?" she prodded.
"Er, yes. That's the plan."
"Hear that, Mother? These newlyweds have plans."
"Oh. But I thought, the marriage is not real. You--"
"We decided to make the best of it. Darling," she beamed at her puzzled husband. "Go and order the food and pick out the movie. I'll be right there."
He stared at her a few seconds longer and shook his head. "Happy to. I'll be waiting."
"I have to go."
She said, her voice casual. "But do enjoy the party."
She hung up before her mother could respond. Shoving the phone into the side zipper of her tote, she made her way down the stairs and saw him waiting for her in the hallway.
He was wearing jeans and a thin black sweater that made his golden tan glow.
"Want to tell me what that was?"
She shrugged. "Just me trying to get out of an unexpected invitation."
She dug through her tote, and he wondered what the hell she carried in what looked to be the size of Texas. Her hair was a mass of snapping coils, the ends tipped in bright red tumbling around her shoulders. The snug leaf-green sweater fitted snugly. Her black leather boots covered black jeans and came to her knees. "Anyway, thanks for playing ball."
"Might I ask where you're off to?"
She sent him an amused stare. "Hanging out with my brother. He's off today. He's making his famous fried chicken and potato salad."
She eyed him. "Looks like you're going out too."
"Yes."
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
