Scrambled Babies (25 page)

“How did you become a best-selling writer?  I don’t know much about the book business.”

“Let’s see, in twenty-five words or less?”

Steve held up the ice cream container.  “Well, we have a whole quart here.  You can take longer than that.” 

From the tone of their first words, Steve pegged the wrinkled brow as worry and not anger.  Maybe he would be buying her quarts of ice cream for some time to come.

“Okay.  Here goes.”  Paeton plunged her spoon into the ice cream.  She looked away, gathering images. “I went to an eastern liberal arts college. Majored in journalism and creative writing.  I always liked to write stories and poems.  My favorite college teacher had been a reporter. She convinced me to follow in her footsteps.  But after college, I soon discovered I wasn’t cut out to be a reporter.  I liked being more by myself.  I could sit at a keyboard for hours.  Watching the people I invented spring to life.  Once they hit the monitor screen, they took over and did their thing.  I played out all my fantasies and frustrations in black and white.  I wrote several novels, but never tried to get them published.”  She stopped and looked inquisitively at Steve.  “Bored yet?”

“Absolutely not.  Go on.”

“I don’t know you well enough to discuss my fantasies.”  And her eyes belied some teasing.  “Of course, if you read my books, they’re all in there.”

“The truth?  I’ve never read a romance.”

“I figured.  Keep eating, I’m getting to the end.  My biggest frustration was not being able to get pregnant.  I wrote a couple of books about barren women.”  Paeton sighed reflectively.  “I guess I drove my husband away from our marriage because all I could think about was ways to get pregnant again.  I’m sure sex became clinical, but I always hated being an only child and didn’t want Maddy to suffer the same fate.  Then after six years and thirty thousand dollars, we gave up.  Of course, immediately after we abandoned our efforts, I got pregnant with Kelsey.  Four months before she was born, Kevin died.  Heart attack! Just like that!  And I was a single mom.  Never really having enjoyed the marriage I could have had.”  She fell silent.

Steve didn’t know how to react.  He felt some guilt about being glad when he had found out Paeton was a widow.  Now he was uncomfortable Kevin was there with them.  But things felt so right between him and Paeton, he figured he wouldn’t worry about it.  The silence was heavy.  He knew he had to say something.  “Uh, that must have been quite a shock.”

Paeton didn’t seem to be in pain, but her eyes told him she was visiting the past.  “It was a terrible shock.  But my agent landed a big book contract for me, so my new life pulled me with it.  I didn’t have much time to think about grieving. Then I made the
New York Times
’ best-seller list, now—” she groaned, “now, I’m too well known for my own good.  It’s evident that I used my writing to hide from my husband, my acquaintances, myself—the world really.  So this whole public-figure thing is overwhelming me.  I always couldn’t wait until I was famous, and now— I hate it!”

“That’s funny, I may be a male version of you.”  Steve stuck his spoon to rest in the ice cream while he spoke.  “I got into chess and sports in a big way when I was a kid.  Being a star athlete brought me all kinds of offers from the fair sex.  But I only went steady once.  And that was for six months.  I was always reading about a chess strategy, playing in a chess tournament, or playing sports.”

“Excuse me, this ice cream looks good.”  Steve could see she was trying to be upbeat.  She removed Steve’s spoon from the container and set it down.  “I promise, I’m listening.  I’m so glad
you
bought it.”

“Well, if that’s what it takes for you to enjoy yourself, I’ll
always
buy it.  Anyway, as I was saying—”

Steve stopped mid-sentence to watch Paeton place a creamy lump of butter pecan into her bewitching mouth.  His focus was so apparent that he made her laugh self-consciously.  “You were saying?”

Steve loved it that he had made her laugh.  “Uh, I was saying—what was I saying?”

“You were saying about how you became a public figure.”

“Right, right.  Well, I loved sports so much, I was always turning off the sound on the TV and doing my own play-by-play and color.  When I went to college, my roommate caught me doing it once and thought I was pretty good.  He suggested I get into college sports broadcasting.  So I did when football wasn’t in season.  When a knee injury snuffed me out just after winning my first Super Bowl, I reverted to my college broadcasting, and the rest is history.  The point is I’ve been in the public eye for some time.  So I’m a little more used to having the vultures hanging around me.”

Paeton didn’t answer.  She seemed to be enjoying the conversation and his company, but the undertone of sadness about her persisted.

Poor kid.  Husband dies.  Her picture’s all over a tabloid.  Damn TV show blasts her.  Then I buy the house she fell in love with. 

Suddenly Steve got excited.  He could do something to change her luck and her mood.  “I could sell you the house, you know.  I’m not, well, I don’t seem to feel as strongly about it as you do.”

Paeton put down her spoon.  She got up from the table and walked to the window.  She was touched.  Steve Kaselman.  His heart was as beautiful as the rest of him.  “Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do anything like that.  I was heartbroken at the time.  But I’m not a child.  I’ll get over it.  There are other houses.  I have my children.  That’s where it all starts.  We’ll find a house that fits us.”

“You sure?  You seemed really angry at me that day.  Paeton, I don’t want you to have any bad feelings toward me.  I was hoping for the opposite.”

Paeton could feel her heart stop and then start beating again, wildly.  “You’re very sweet, Steve.  But with all this emotional upheaval, accusations, pressure from writing my first screenplay, I haven’t had much luck reaching my personal feelings.” 

What a crock!
 Her personal feelings for Steve Kaselman had been on a rampage since their eyes locked at JFK.  Right now all she wanted was for him to take her in his arms and kiss her.

“Sweet?  I’m very sweet?  Isn’t that like saying we’re ‘friends’ or something?”  Steve got up and walked around to her chair.  “My aunt says I’m very sweet.  My grandmother says I’m very sweet.”  His eyes penetrated her very soul as he knelt in front of her.  “Paeton, I—”  He grabbed her shoulders commandingly and kissed her!

Ka-vring!
  His kiss was the hammer at the show-your-strength carnival booth; her heart was the object of the blow.  The blow shot her unsuspecting heart rocketing up the pole, shattering the bell!  No, Steve Kaselman was definitely
not
sweet. He was—!

Paeton had no resistance.  The kiss rioted through every inch of her body, starting fires where Paeton never knew there even was tinder.  She squeaked a stifled sound of pleasure.  Steve responded with his own muffled groan. 

Her brain flashed the panic sign.  Stop!  She pulled away as gently as possible.  But the rush of the kiss had left both of them dazed—transfixed. 

After what seemed eons, Paeton managed to regain her breath.  The fuzziness began to wane.  She felt she needed to walk around to clear her head.  But in order to stand, she would have to lean on Steve for support.  This did not seem an intelligent option at the moment because she was struggling not to return to the kiss.  All the suppressed feelings for Steve she had kept in tow had been unleashed.  She felt like someone who had dropped an ant farm  and was frantically trying to round up a thousand creatures all scurrying in a thousand different directions.

Finally, managing to lean back, she whispered hoarsely, “Why did you do that?”

“I wanted, uh, to show you I wasn’t—sweet.”  Steve’s eyes were glazed.

Paeton swallowed hard, her pulsing breasts heaving.  She forced a small laugh.  “Okay, I believe you.”  She willed her legs to lift her past the kneeling knight and walked to the window, where there was really nothing to look at.  “But I think you and I need to keep our relationship professional.  I don’t see a future for—”

Steve jumped up and moved quickly behind Paeton.  She could feel his breath on the back of her neck.  A honeyed wave flowed uncontrollably.  To her dismay, her entire body opened to the sweetness.  She moved a slight step away from him.

He followed, his breath coming in short strokes.  “Dammit, Paeton, I have serious feelings for you that are not professional.  You’re single, I’m single.  That makes us two single people.”

The silliness of the remark helped Paeton break out of the sensual overload.  She snickered.  “That must be the logic you use in your chess games.”  She cocked her head to indicate she was only poking fun.  Then she sidestepped him and sat back down at the table. 

He grinned his concurrence that the remark was inane and joined her.  As he lowered his body to the chair, he said hesitatingly, “Paeton, I want you to know I didn’t mean anything by that kiss.  I was—”  He corrected himself, standing up again.  “No, that’s a lie.  I’ve been wanting to kiss you ever since JFK.”  He extended his hand to turn her face up to him but must have thought better of it, leaving his hand frozen near her cheek.  “Come on, you too?”

Paeton was back at the purple magic-marker heart, her pulse racing
.  I mustn’t look at him!
 She couldn’t speak.

“Paeton, the whole damn reason we’re in this mess is because of that chance bumping into each other.  Come on, something’s going on here.  I can’t explain it.  It isn’t logical.  But I can’t deny having very strong feelings for you.”

Paeton finally raised her head to meet his eyes, while fighting to rein in her heart.  She sought her most neutral tone.  Did her emotions belie her speech?  “I won’t deny that I find you attractive.  But we’re both old enough to know that sexual attraction leads nowhere.  Look at you and Crystal.  Look at—”

Steve interrupted her, sitting down and taking her hand in his.  “Okay, I agree sexual attraction alone doesn’t do it.  But I feel more than that for you, Paeton McPhilomy.  And I think you feel more than that for me.  I really want us to give whatever sprang to life that day a chance.  A chance, Paeton.  That’s all I ask.”

Paeton looked at his hand on hers.  Her breath was quick in rhythm with her pulse.

“What do you say?  We still have dinner, you know.  You’re not getting out of that.  I hope one little kiss didn’t screw that up.”

“I wouldn’t call that little.”  Steve’s eyes were begging for another kiss.  And her heart’s craving was dangerously strong.  She had to avert her eyes.  She gently slid her hand from under his.  “Yes, we still have dinner.”  Her voice was now a whisper.  “I have to get some rest.  I guess there wasn’t much to say about the show after all.”  She cleared her throat, reaching for some volume.  “Maybe we’ll come up with something tomorrow or over dinner Saturday.”

Steve got up slowly.  “Okay.  Me too.  I need some rest.  A pause. “Paeton—”

What did she want him to say—“I love you”?  No, she wasn’t nearly ready for that.  But he was important to her.  More than sexually.  Her inner being knew this was true.  But her memories signaled violently—jock—jock—jock!  She had told herself never again!

“Yes?”  She waited for the rest of his sentence.

“Uh, just good night, I guess.  I, uh, like—like being with you.  And Maddy.  And Kelsey.  I’ll see you Saturday night, eight o’clock, sharp.”

Paeton rose too.  Together they moved to the door.  She took both his hands, not daring to seek his eyes.  “It was a wonderful kiss.  I admit.  You are not sweet.  But I can’t deal with us right now, if there is an us.”  She tightened her grip on his hands.  “Okay?”

She felt him respond in kind.  “Okay.”  He made no move to kiss her again, even though she knew they were both thinking about it.  Instead, he turned the doorknob.  “Good night, Paeton.”

“Good night—Steve.”

He laughed appreciatively.  “Hey, great, I’m not Kaselman anymore.”  He strode briskly down the hallway.

No, now you
are
Steve! But should you still be Kaselman?