Kate's Vow (Vows) by Sherryl Woods

was playing tag with the waves up ahead. “Yeah, I do.”
    * * *
    David wasn’t sure what name to put on the feeling that was stealing through him. Peace? Contentment? Maybe even a smidgen of anticipation?
    Davey had trounced all over both him and Kate playing Monopoly. David blamed it on being distracted. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off Kate all evening. Now, with an exhausted Davey tucked in, they were alone. Each of them had retreated into work, after a flurry of nervous apologies.
    He glanced over at her again. Her cheeks were pink, flushed first by their brisk walk on the beach, then by the color that rose every time she sensed him staring at her. Her hair was carelessly tousled in a way she would never have allowed it to be in the city. Whatever makeup she’d worn earlier had faded, until only her natural beauty showed through. Her bare feet, the toenails painted a soft, feminine shade of rose, were tucked under her. Her lips, curved down in a thoughtful frown as she concentrated on some legal paperwork, suddenly seemed exceptionally kissable. The script he’d been sent for an upcoming feature film couldn’t begin to compete for his attention.
    He fought against an onslaught of guilt. Dorothy’s words came back to him, a reminder that Alicia would never begrudge him a future filled with whatever happiness he could seize for himself and his son. Still, a lawyer? Especially one with a go-for-the-jugular reputation?
    And yet all night he had been forced to reassess Kate Newton. She’d been constantly surprising him, both with her compassion for Davey and with her insights. Now, as she sat curled up in a chair, she presented yet another image. Quiet, serene and approachable. All evidence of the prickly, consummately professional attorney had been softened, tempered in this comfortable environment.
    Even the house had surprised him. He’d expected something huge and new, a showcase, something so modern and sterile that he would have worried about leaving fingerprints on all the glass and chrome.
    Instead, the house was small compared to the newer monstrosities jammed on either side. The decor was an attractive blend of wicker and overstuffed cushions covered in a sturdy, simple Haitian cotton. Every piece of furniture invited relaxation. Colorful pillows added to the cozy allure. To a man sensitive to the uses of color and design, the house offered up the perfect casual, homey beachfront ambience. He wondered if her apartment in the city was the same or offered a contrast to suit her professional persona.
    Suddenly he realized that she was regarding him intently.
    “I thought you were working,” she chided. “Instead, you seem lost in thought.”
    “That is how I work,” he reminded her with a grin, not entirely willing to confess that he hadn’t thought of work in quite some time now.
    She shook her head. “Of course. I forgot. Is the script any good?”
    Now she had him. “I’m not far enough into it to tell yet,” he hedged.
    “How will you know if it’s something you want to work on?”
    “If the images start to come.”
    “And they haven’t yet?”
    “Not for the movie,” he said, surprised a little himself as the faintly provocative words slipped out.
    “So, you weren’t working,” she accused, her eyes dancing with merriment, the golden sparks lighting them from within. “What were you thinking about?”
    “Are you sure you want to know?”
    “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
    “You.”
    “Oh,” she said, her voice suddenly whispery soft, even though she didn’t look nearly as startled as he’d expected her to.
    “No more questions?” he prodded.
    “Sure,” she said, lifting a bold gaze to clash with his. “Elaborate.”
    “I was wondering if your apartment in the city suited you as well as this place does.”
    A startled expression crossed her face. “I never really thought about it.”
    “Let me guess, then. Very elegant. Very tasteful. Very expensive.