She could almost hear Nick’s father ridiculing her sanctimonious sermon. But she couldn’t think of any other way to make her point.
Michael obviously wasn’t convinced. He turned to Kit for reinforcement. “You saw the play, didn’t you, Kit? Nick was safe, wasn’t he?”
Kit lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t ask my opinion unless you really want to hear it,” he warned.
“That means he thought Nick was out, too,” Miranda translated.
“No, he wasn’t. He was safe. You saw it, Kit.”
Kit shook his head. “He was out, Michael. It was a good call. Your friend was lucky the ump didn’t throw him out of the game for his attitude. Had I been making the calls, I probably would have.”
Michael looked as though he would have liked to continue the argument, but Savannah interceded. “Rinse your bowl and put it in the dishwasher, Michael. And then it’s time for you to hit the shower before bed.”
Her son obeyed with visible reluctance.
Savannah glanced at Miranda. “You, too,” she said. “It’s getting late.”
Miranda dragged her gaze away from Kit—for what might have been the first time that evening—and sighed. “Okay, Mom.”
“Kiss up,” Michael muttered.
Savannah ignored him in a way that let him know she was doing so intentionally. _
“I’d better be going,” Kit said after telling the twins good-night and watching them leave-the room. He held out a hand to Savannah. “Walk me out?”
SAVANNAH AND Kit stepped out of her front door and into the summer night. It was still quite warm, with no breeze to st
ir the sultry air. Crickets chirruped loudly in the darkness, their song interrupted only by the occasional bark of a dog and drone of a car engine.
Savannah closed the front door behind them, then leaned back against it. The amber porch light gave enough illumination for safety, but was not so bright that it made them feel spotlighted. Still, she was glad that none of her neighbors seemed to be out.
Kit paused on the porch and gazed around the quiet neighborhood, then turned to her with a smile, planting his right hand on the door beside her. “Have you noticed that we’ve spent a lot of time together outside at night?”
She was very much aware of his hand, only inches from her shoulder. He’d leaned close to speak softly, so that he loomed over her, crowding her a bit more closely against the door. He probably didn’t intend to intimidate her, she assured herself. He was only standing closely enough so that they could talk softly, without risking being overheard.
“We haven’t spent a lot of time together at all,” she corrected him.
He lifted his left hand and stroked the side of her face with his fingertips. “Always obsessed with details,” he murmured.
He was teasing her. She had to force herself to smile. “I’m an office manager. Details are my life.”
He slid his fingers down her cheek and along the line of her jaw, just missing the corner of her mouth. “You’re an office manager? I didn’t know that.”
She swallowed. “I, er, I work for a local construction company. I’ve been with them for ten years.”
“Fascinating.” He leaned closer to brush his lips across her forehead.
She closed her eyes, which only made her more aware of his warmth, his nearness, the feel of his fingers on her skin.
“I…” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t remember exactly what it was they’d been talking about.
“How old are you, Savannah?”
‘I’m…um…thirty.” It had taken her a moment to remember.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “You were very young when you had your children.”
Her children. She tried to remind herself that they were just inside the door. That she and Kit weren’t technically alone—no matter how badly she might wish they were.