Page 42 of Kyle
"I've seen it several times. I cannot believe you haven't."
"Well excuse me if I never had a date and was too busy working to just take in a show."
Lifting their joined hands, he nipped at her knuckles. "Never had a date, huh?"
"Not for any lack or anything like that. Men tend to find me intimidating."
"I wonder why." He grinned at her dark look and was about to say something else when she shushed him.
Settling back in the chair, he wrapped his arm around her neck and placed her head on his shoulder. He scanned the crowd again and saw several friends of his. Jackson was a few rows below with Jerri and he could make out Kane and Kelly.
He supposed he was going to have to socialize as soon as the show was over and answer some questions.
A few weeks ago, he was going out exclusively with Carly and now he was married to Ingrid.
Turning his head, he gazed at her and felt his heart stirring. She had spent a full day at the office and the job site and still looked like she could go another round. He realized that work energized her. When he suggested they go on home, she had told him she was not tired.
"And you did promise to take me out. I hope you're not backing out on me, McCreary."
Now he was happy they were here. The press was out in full, and he had no problem them being caught on camera.
Chapter 10
That night they decided it was time to move in together, in one suite. It was a matter of which one.
"Mine is bigger." She pointed out. "And I need a lot of closet space for shoes."
"You sure do." He wandered over to the wide arched doorway of a state of the art closet. "How many pairs of shoes can you wear?" He gazed in amazement at the rows of shelves with shoes stacked to the ceiling.
"I love shoes."
"That's the understatement of the century. You're obsessed. You have boots in every color."
"I happen to love boots." She sniffed.
"And I bet you've not stopped buying."
She gave him a look that suggested he had lost his mind. Shaking his head, he stepped back out and gazed at the walls.
"It's pink."
"Oyster."
He lifted a brow. "Pink. I never pegged you for a pink girl."
She bristled at that and had him grinning.
"What does that mean?"
"It means McCreary, that you never struck me as being a girlie girl."
"I'm not and the color is oyster, a delicate pastel that gives the room a classy look."
"Still pink."
She threw up her hands. "Okay fine. But you must know this is the master."
"Mine is teal. We sleep in that room until we can come up with a bolder color."
