Seducing Savannah (Southern Scandals 1)

“Good.”

“Better not spill it on the carpet, either,” Michael suggested, joining in the fun. “Mom goes totally ballistic over red Kool-Aid stains on her carpet.”

“Maybe I should have asked for orange juice,” Kit said, feigning an expression of concern.

Miranda overheard him just as she walked in carrying a tall glass of iced, bright red beverage. “I’ll get orange juice for you, if you’d rather have it,” she said. “I can always drink this.”

Kit promptly reached out to relieve her of the glass. “No, I’d better take this. It sounds too dangerous for a teenager.”

Michael laughed smugly at Miranda’s puzzled expression.

The teasing and camaraderie continued during dinner at the twins’ favorite Italian restaurant. Savannah would have had a lovely time had she not been so aware of all the attention they were getting from the other diners. The stares and whispers, the belated double takes of recognition, the speculation at seeing Kit looking so cozy with Savannah and her children.

Savannah was particularly uncomfortable when she realized that Marie Butler and Lucy Bettencourt were dining together just a few tables away. The town’s most avid gossip, and a woman with a grudge. No good could come of the barely veiled attention they were paying to Savannah’s table.

Several times during the meal they were interrupted by people wanting. Kit’s autograph—usually teenagers, but occasionally adults. Savannah couldn’t imagine deliberately barging in on a private meal just to ask someone to scribble his name on a dinner napkin. How could Kit be so gracious and polite?

The only time Kit balked was when a woman pulled a disposable camera out of her purse and brashly asked if she could have her photograph taken with him.

“Sorry, but I’m having dinner now,” he answered with genial firmness. “I’d rather not.”

The woman pouted and tried again to convince him.

“Geesh, lady,” Michael said, clearly losing patience. “Can’t you see the guy’s trying to eat?”

The woman stalked away indignantly.

Savannah didn’t bother to correct Michael for his rudeness. There were times, she decided reluctantly, when nothing else would get through.

“Is it always like this for you, Kit?” Miranda asked, looking as though she didn’t know whether to envy or pity him.

He shrugged. “Some times are worse than others. When I’m at home in L.A., it’s no big deal to see me out at a restaurant. There are a lot of bigger stars there for fans to pester. When I’m on a book tour with a lot of advance publicity, or making an appearance in a small town like Campbellville, where the residents don’t see many so-called celebrities, then I get a bit more attention.”

Savannah approved of his self-deprecating tone, and the way he downplayed his fame to the twins. But that didn’t change the fact that he was, in fact, famous. And she still hadn’t reached a point where she could think of him comfortably in that light.

She still had a tendency to separate him into two distinct individuals in her mind. Kit, the man she knew and loved. And Christopher Pace, the near stranger.

But she was painfully aware that their relationship could go no farther until she learned to accept both sides of him.

After ordering dessert, Miranda whispered to her mother that she needed to go to the ladies’ room.

“Would you like me to go with you?” Savannah offered.

Miranda rolled her eyes. “Mother.”

“Oh, excuse me,” Savannah said dryly. Then she turned to Kit. “I thought she knew that women always went in pairs.”

Kit chuckled, then asked, “When’s your next ball game, Michael?”

“Tomorrow night. Are you coming?” Michael asked, trying to hide his eagerness.

“You bet I will,” Kit replied.

“Coach says I’ve been playing a lot better this week. He spent some one-on-one time with me a couple of afternoons.”

Savannah’s mouth twisted. Michael’s coach had heard about Kit’s work with her son. He’d immediately claimed that he had been just about to start working with Michael himself. Whether it had been spurred by piqued pride or celebrity imitation, Michael had loved the special attention.

“That’s great, Mike. I look forward to watching you play tomorrow.”