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“Their brains aren’t as developed as yours,” she said. “They don’t have the lifetime of experiences to draw on. So everything is new, all the time. A bedtime story offers the comfort of the familiar and they like that. They feel connected by the repetition, plus they probably hear something new every time. I would guess they also like having you read it to them, as well. Your voice, the way you pronounce the words, all become associated with time with you. You’re making memories.”
He frowned. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.” The frowned cleared. “Thank you, Annie. That makes me want to read to them more.”
“I hope you will. Because thirty years from now, when they’re reading to their children, they’ll remember this time. It will always be something you’ve shared.”
“Do you know what you want?” Duncan asked, reclaiming her attention.
She glanced at the menu. “I was thinking the twins would have enjoyed doggie bags from here.”
She was about to say more when she caught Duncan’s startled expression. Maybe talking about taking food home to her family wasn’t a good thing, she thought, suddenly uncomfortable. She closed her menu and pressed her lips together.
“Annie here has some real insights into my grand-kids,” Will was telling the man across from him.
The man looked bored, although he nodded. Annie shifted in her seat.
Although she was dressed in one of the pretty cocktail dresses Cameron had picked out for her, she felt out of place. Everyone at the table was older and seemed to know each other. The women were laughing and talking with a casual ease that made her want to slowly back out of the room. Anywhere but here, she thought. What if she failed? What if Duncan decided she wasn’t doing a good job? Would he change his mind about their deal? Would Tim be pulled out of rehab and sent to jail?
Stop it, she told herself. So what if everyone in this room had some impressive job and knew what all the forks were for? She was smart. She had a career she loved and she knew she made a difference. Duncan Patrick needed her to make himself look good. If anyone should be worried about the deal being changed, it was him, not her. He was lucky to have her.
“Do I want to know why you’re smiling?” Duncan asked, leaning close and putting his arm on the back of her chair. “Are you drunk?”
“I’ve taken one sip.”
“You don’t seem like much of a drinker.”
“Maybe not, but even I can handle a cocktail.”
“Are you putting me in my place?”
“Do you need me to do that? I’m tougher than I look, Duncan.”
He laughed. “I’m sure you are.”
While it hadn’t been her best time ever, Annie managed to get through the dinner without spilling, saying anything she regretted or withdrawing completely. She’d managed to hold her own on a debate about charter schools and had offered an opinion on the latest movie sensation. When everyone was standing up to leave, the waiter appeared with two large brown bags.
“For those hungry college girls you have at home,” Duncan said. “Three entrées and dessert for all. It’ll keep them out of your secret stash.”
She was both surprised and touched. Talk about thoughtful. As they moved toward the exit, she walked slowly, waiting until everyone else had left. Then she put the bags on the nearby table, rested her hand on Duncan’s shoulder, reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
“You’re a total fraud,” she whispered. “You’re not mean at all.”
He dropped his arm around her waist and drew her closer. When he kissed her back, it wasn’t on the cheek and it wasn’t meaningless. Duncan pressed his lips to hers with a force that took her breath away. He claimed, his mouth moving against hers. There was no doubt of what he wanted, or of the fact that his intensity hinted he might just take it without asking.
She was pressed against him, his arm like a band around her, holding her in place. There was no escape, but there also wasn’t any fear, either. Instead of wanting to struggle with him, she found herself yielding, instinctively realizing that he expected a fight. Surrender was the only way to win.
