Even with the sunlight peeking through the trees, he couldn’t see anything obviously out of place—certainly nothing to indicate what Kennedy and Grace had been doing last night. The only sign of activity in the entire area was a slight mound at the base of a tree, and it didn’t even seem all that recent. Still…
Stepping closer, he kicked at a loose clod—
“Are you going to pee in the woods, Uncle Joe? Like you did last year?”
Joe spun around to see that Kennedy and Teddy had followed him.
“Yeah,” he said as indifferently as possible. “I hate Port-a-Potties, don’t you?”
“They stink.” Teddy wrinkled his nose, then looked up at his father. “Can I pee out here, too? Huh, Dad? Can I?”
Kennedy’s gaze rested on Joe a split second too long, in Joe’s opinion. “No.”
“Why not?” Teddy asked.
“Because there’s a bathroom only fifteen feet away.”
“But it smells.”
“You’ll survive,” Kennedy said and led his son through the trees.
Joe stared after them until they disappeared, then urinated on the nearest tree for the simple satisfaction of doing something an Archer wouldn’t. He didn’t give a damn if there was a restroom two feet away. He’d do whatever he pleased—and if Grace stumbled upon him, so much the better. He’d like to show her that he had quite a bit more to offer than when they were kids.
He stroked himself a few times, smiling as he grew large. She’d be impressed, all right.
Teddy’s voice, coming from the direction of the Port-a-Potties, intruded and Joe forced himself to zip his pants. But the appetites he’d stirred left him craving more.
He’d have to visit his ex-wife. Cindy occasionally let him stay the night, if he paid off one of her bills or fixed her car or whatever. She wanted to cut him out of her life entirely, but she was too poor and too lonely to actually do it.
Women were so much more accommodating when they had a few needs.
Pretty soon Grace would remember what that was all about.
Grace was eager to say goodbye to Kennedy. She wanted to be alone, to try and make sense out of everything that had happened over the weekend. But when he set her bag on the doorstep and began to walk away, she felt a strange sense of loss.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, his manner as formal as it had been all morning.
Since their encounter in the woods, he’d grown distant. Polite. She hated that. She preferred him when he was teasing her or smiling at her in that mysterious way he had, which always made her feel like someone else, someone without a sordid past.
But she was a fool to acknowledge his effect on her. She knew that, too.
“Kennedy?”
He’d already started toward his SUV, where Teddy and Heath were waving and calling out their goodbyes. Smiling, she waved back at them.
“What?” Kennedy said.
A muscle flexed in his jaw when he turned.
“You’re angry with me,” she said, taken aback by the sudden revelation.
“No,” he told her. “I’m angry with myself for getting into a situation I knew I should avoid.”
As her breath seeped slowly through her lips, she squared her shoulders. “Well, it’s not too late to save yourself.”
She knew it had to come to this, but she almost wished he’d argue with her. His was the only kiss that had ever made her want to fight the defensiveness that caused her to shut down whenever she was approached in a sexual way. His was the only touch that generated enough heat to…maybe…purge her of the hateful memories that crowded too close whenever a man wanted her.
A frown created lines between his eyebrows but he didn’t say anything.
“Your boys are wonderful, Kennedy. You’re lucky—despite what happened to Raelynn. Although…I’m sorry about that.” She regretted thinking he hadn’t deserved his wife. They were perfect for each other. “You’ll find someone else. Someone just as good.”
“Stop it,” he growled.
Wondering if it hurt him to talk about Raelynn, she switched topics. “Thanks. For the trip and for…taking care of you-know-what.”
He studied her. “Just do me one favor, okay?”
She bit her bottom lip. “What’s that?”
Lowering his voice so that only she could hear, he said, “Forget the reverend and the past. Somehow cut it away.”
She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her, so she nodded as though she’d already done it. “Of course.”
When the lines in his face didn’t soften, she wondered what she could say to convince him, but a sound drew their attention to the end of the drive.
Irene had pulled in next to Kennedy’s SUV.
Under different circumstances, her mother’s sagging jaw would’ve been funny. But Grace didn’t feel much like laughing today. Joe didn’t have any reason, at least that Grace could think of, to share the fact that she and Kennedy had been together this past weekend. Her mother, however, wouldn’t be able to resist connecting her daughter to such an important figure.
Given how her mother had been treated over the years, Grace couldn’t blame her. But she preferred to let the camping trip fade into the past without further notice. She refused to use Kennedy to build her own credibility or social standing.
“Why, Kennedy Archer. How nice to see you,” Irene said, using every bit of her Southern charm as she got out and sashayed up the walk.
Kennedy gave her his politician’s smile—Grace was coming to know the difference now that she’d seen something more personal—and offered Irene his hand. “Hello, Mrs. Barker. How are you?”
“I’d be fine, if you’d call me Irene.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “We’ve known each other long enough for that.”
“Of course we have.”
“How’s the campaign coming?”
“Not so good.” He jerked his head toward the Vicki Nibley sign in Grace’s yard. “It seems I have a particularly stubborn holdout.”
Irene blushed prettily. “I’ll see if I can talk some sense into her. You know, my other daughter, Madeline, supports you down at the paper.”
“I’m grateful,” he said.
Irene basked in his attention for a little longer. Then her eyes slid to Grace—and widened. “Oh, my! Is that soot on your face?”
“I need a shower,” Grace said, rubbing at her cheek.