Under His Care by Kelly Favor Page A

the parents the drawing. They exchanged the drawing for some cash and then went on their way.
    “We should have him do one of us,” Easton said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along.
    “No way,” Kennedy said, trying to resist.
    “I want it,” Easton told her.
    Finally, he broke away, allowing Kennedy to catch up to him as he negotiated price with the small Asian man who would be doing the sketch.
    “Both of you?” the artist asked in a heavy accent.
    Easton glanced at Kennedy and she shook her head no. Easton just shrugged. “I guess it’s just me for today,” he said, and then sat down on the small stool and waited for the artist to start drawing him.
    Kennedy shook her head again and laughed, then took a seat on a bench beside the path, where many tourists were walking, heads turned to watch as this handsome man got his caricature done in Central Park.
    It was a strange scene, and Easton, in his expensive clothes, perfectly coiffed hair and gorgeous looks, was at odds with the tiny man who was sketching him.
    But in another way, Kennedy found the whole thing perfect. She put a hand reflexively to her stomach and smiled, thinking about the fact that she was carrying Easton’s child.
    Their child.
    Ever since the day they’d found out, Easton had been different—lighter, happier, easier to laugh and much slower to anger.
    It was as if something inside him had blossomed, a part of him that was caring and soft to go along with other part of him that was hard, aggressive and protective.
    As the artist drew the exaggerated picture, Easton posed as if he was thinking deeply, one hand perched under his chin, eyes cast upward, mimicking the statue that Rodin had crafted long ago.
    Kennedy couldn’t stop giggling as she snapped a picture of him on her phone.
    Ten minutes later and the sketch was complete, along with the date and signature of the artist. It had come out nicely, and somehow the little Asian man had found a way to capture Easton’s expression, and the reality of his kindness and sweetness in his eyes. Even though Easton had been goofing around, somehow that artist had caught a glimpse of Easton’s true nature—his sweet, caring and fun side that had been in evidence ever since he’d proposed to her a month ago.
    They took the drawing with them, caught a cab back to their townhouse (she’d moved in with Easton immediately after his proposal), and Easton prepared them a light salad for lunch.
    Kennedy was somewhat distracted while she was eating, texting back and forth with Nicole and her parents and even Red.
    “Can’t we have a meal without the texting for once?” Easton asked, a slight edge of frustration in his voice.
    “I’m sorry,” Kennedy said. She put her phone down. “It’s just this wedding stuff—“
    “I told you we should do a small thing, just me and you and a handful of other people. Go away to an island and do it like Red and Nicole did theirs.”
    “I don’t want to copy them,” Kennedy said.
    “Whatever,” Easton said, waving his hand. “I just think a little less texting would be nice. As it is, I never see you at work anymore…“
    “That’s because I don’t work for you,” she reminded him. “I work for Red.”
    “I know, you’re big and important now,” Easton said. “I saw the new corporate strategy, remember?”
    “You helped me design it,” she laughed. “Are you seriously upset right now?”
    He put his fork down and made a face. “Not really.” He grinned. “But I do think you’re spending way too much time on all of this wedding stuff. It’s all going to work out.”
    “Not if someone doesn’t manage things. We’re getting married in a month, Easton. That’s a short timeline, and if I don’t keep an eye on the details, we’re going to crash and burn.”
    “That’s just your hormones talking,” he said, grinning.
    “That’s so not true,” she said, rolling her eyes.
    Easton got up and grabbed her hand. “Come on,” he said,