Page 27 of Kyle
Kyle stirred himself enough to turn and look at his dad. He knew the holidays were the most difficult time of the year for his old man and tried to get him out of the funk.
"Am I?" He forced a smile. "And you're usually the silent one."
"That's about right." They were sitting out on the balcony that was part of their private suite at the club. It was the holiday weekend, and the place was not as packed as it usually was. The Elite Club sat on several hundred acres of land, the view from where they were, spectacular.
His father settled back on the chaise, a cigar clamped between his teeth.
"I don't need a babysitter, you know."
"Perhaps, I need one." Kyle grinned at the look he received.
"How's the marriage?"
"Why? We've only been married for a couple of days."
"And here you are with me."
"You know what kind of deal it is." Ignoring the pull of his heart, he picked up his scotch.
"So, how's it going?"
Kyle shrugged.
"We're not killing each other, if that's what you're asking."
Jason looked at his son.
"And the actress? You still seeing her?"
His mouth tightened.
"She has a name."
"I know she does," Jason agreed easily. "She is not right for you."
Kyle's brows glowered.
"Why would you say that?"
"I know the type." Stretching his legs out, Jason sniffed the air and closed his eyes. "Your mother loved fall." A smile touched his lips. "She always claimed it was her favorite time of year. Said it had to do with the earth shedding its skin. Leaves falling, the scent of pine cones in the air and the weather turning. It was a big deal for her."
"Dad--"
He shook his head.
"I'm fine, son. I know everyone is concerned about me and yes, I have hit some rough patches. But I have her here." He touched the spot where his heart beat steady. "Always."
"It's been years."
"Ten years, three months and two days." He looked at his son. "Hopefully, you'll find something like that. With your bride."
"I don't think so," he muttered, but his words lacked conviction. "We talked," he added, reluctantly. "About her childhood."
His father nodded.
"She had it pretty rough. Iona was a piece of work. I have a feeling she was the one who sent her husband to drink and do drugs."
"Do you really believe that?"
