Disclaimer: I do not own The Red Road.

A/N: This is semi-AU of S2 (mostly because only one episode has aired). Phillip did not cause trouble with the guys at the paving company, and Mac has not been murdered.

Harold stormed into the house, slamming the garage door as he went. Jean's phone call had put him on edge. He was furious. Jean had invited the one man he hated to their house, where their daughter was. Harold would sooner murder Phillip than let him eat next to his Kate. Hell, murder was looking like a good plan. Jean had ignored his protests, his yelling, and his numerous texts and phone calls, informing him only that he was expected for dinner.

He had gotten tied up at the station, which meant that Harold was later than he would have liked. Phillip's truck was the first sign that Harold was too late. It was parked on the street, a clear sign. Harold couldn't restrain the anger that surged through his blood, suffusing his face with red.

"Jean," he barked, hand curling painfully around his keys. "Jean!"

"I'm in the kitchen, Harold," Jean called, voice loud but even.

That only fueled Harold's anger. The fact that after everything they had been through, everything Harold had said Jean had gone ahead and done what she wanted, like everything was fine. Harold stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, glaring at his wife. She was standing at the counter in a dress that was a little too fancy for dinner at home, her focus was on a recipe book as she muttered to herself.

"I don't want him in my house, Jean," Harold growled lowly.

"Well then it's a good thing he's outside playing with the girls and Junior," Jean told him dismissively. "Besides, he's a friend."

Jaw tensing, Harold moved to the window, looking out into the backyard where, to Harold's distress, Phillip was talking to Kate as they played bags. One hand slid up into his hair, clutching his head in frustration.

"Dammit, Jean," Harold gritted out. "I don't want that bastard near Kate! And he's not a friend! He's a felon."

"A felon who saved your life," Jean huffed. "A felon who wouldn't be a felon if it weren't for you and me!"

"He made his own choices, Jean."

Jean took a deep breath, her body vibrating, "I am not having this conversation, Harold. You are going to be nice to Phillip, we are going to have a lovely dinner, and then we will all sit around and talk. Do you understand me?"

He understood, but he certainly didn't like it. What he really wanted to do was go outside and beat Phillip into the dirt before pulling Kate into his arms, away from him. Jean was blind to the truth; she didn't realize how dangerous Phillip was. She had always been blind around Phillip.

"Don't you dare ruin this for me, Harold," Jean threatened when he didn't respond. "Don't you dare!"

Jean's face spoke of the madness that drove her to drink, the anger and determination to make everything perfect. Harold didn't have a choice but to back down. He would do as Jean wanted, but he wasn't about to let Phillip waltz through his house or look at his daughter.

Sensing Harold's acquiescence, Jean smiled shortly, "Go shower and change."

Harold retreated up the stairs, his footsteps sure and quick. Jean turned back to the book, skimmed a little further and then glanced up and out at the backyard. Rachel was smiling and laughing, hanging off of junior happily. Smiling, Jean shifted her gaze across the yard to where Phillip stood. He was smiling and laughing as he looked down at Kate, it was a vast difference from the moments following his arrival.

Jean swung open the front door, broad smile in place. "Hi, Phillip," her voice was a sigh, "you look very handsome. Please, come in."

Phillip nodded shortly, "Thanks."

"So," the redhead stepped back a little as she shut the door, "Junior and the girls are out back, Harold should be on his way home, so it is just us." Phillip shifted and crossed his arms across his chest as Jean took a step forward, arms outstretched. Jean's smile faltered as she turned, and began to chatter again only slightly unnerved. "You look good, so, how have you been?"

"Fine," was his clipped answer.

"Good," Jean led him to the kitchen, "Can I get you a beer or something?"

Standing at the threshold of the room Phillip scowled, "I'm gonna check on Junior."

The conversation had been stilted and awkward. That wasn't exactly how Jean had wanted their second meeting to go. They had been close before, it had been warm and fun. Jean wanted that back. He hated her, Jean fretted, but she would fix it. The awkwardness was just part of the process. Soon it would be just the way it was. Instead of frowning he would smile, he would wrap her up in a hug, and it would be like it was in high school. Before it all went wrong.

Phillip used to smile and laugh with her like that. With a shaky breath Jean forced herself to refocus on her task. She was going to have the perfect dinner and everything would get better. Everything.

After a second win, Phillip and Kate smothered their laughter through a rather badly sung and choreographed rendition of "I'm a Little Teapot." It was well worth it in their opinion, Junior was certainly an interesting shade of red, and Rachel was attached to Junior, lips against his neck.

"Not bad, huh, Katie," Phillip curled his arm around her waist, pulling her to him and slipping his thumb under her tank to stroke the tender skin of her abdomen.

"Nope," Kate inhaled deeply, shuddering as she was overwhelmed with the warmth of Phillip's scent. "We make a pretty good team."

"We make a great team," the tall man corrected. "We should do this again, sometime, if you wanted to?"

"You mean beat my sister and your brother at bags," Kate teased, biting her lip.

Taking a step so he was in front of her, arm sliding to the small of her back, Phillip shook his head as he looked down at her. "No, I meant go out and play a game together, like mini golf or bowling. A date."

A hand dropped against his stomach, small fingers tapping against the firm flesh, "A date?"

The pressure of Kate's hand against him had Phillip's eyes darkening, "You're playing with fire, little girl."

Mischief curled in Kate's eyes, and as she leaned forward, fully intending to demonstrate just how playful she could be, Rachel's voice cut her off.

"Okay," Rachel called laughing, "this isn't fair, you two are way too good at this. Let's play football, girls versus boys."

"No," Junior took the objection right out of Kate's mouth. "That's a terrible idea. Why don't we just throw the ball around?"

"That way Junior here won't hurt himself," Phillip smirked.

"Shut up," Rachel grumbled even as she picked up the football and threw it over to Junior.

The jibes were passed just as quickly as the ball, ending up more often than not in laughter. At some point Jean settled into a chair, watching them closely, and Harold soon followed, scowl transforming his whole countenance. The tension in his shoulders was a clear effort at restraint. The way he clutched at the back of Jean's chair was a substitute for marching across the lawn and tackling Phillip to the ground and beating him badly.

Harold's only consolation was that Phillip seemed to be keeping his distance from Kate. Something that Harold was going to ensure for the rest of the evening. If he had to allow Phillip into his home, Harold was going to guard his daughter from the monster.

So focused on his task was Harold, that he didn't notice when Jean returned to the house until she called them all in.

"Junior and Rachel on one side and Kate and Phillip on the other," Jean directed with a hand as she set a pitcher of iced tea on the already food-laden table.

"Katie, why don't you sit in my spot," Harold put his arm around his youngest daughter's shoulders and pulled her in to kiss her temple.

"No," Jean said quickly, "Kate is sitting next to Phillip."

As their battle of wills continued, Phillip pulled out the chair opposite Junior for Kate and pushed it in politely before taking the seat beside hers. Rachel tossed Kate a look that clearly displayed both her embarrassment and annoyance at their parents' argument.

"Look," Rachel cleared her throat, "we're all really hungry, so let's have dinner."

"Yes, Harold," Jean nodded and moved to sit in her spot beside Phillip, much to his dismay, "let's have dinner."

Harold didn't argue as he sat down across from Jean, one arm reaching so he could squeeze Kate's hand in silent comfort. Dinner was a mostly tense affair in which Jean chattered, Rachel and Junior answered question after question and Phillip grunted and avoided saying anything. Charming had mostly gone out the window the minute Jean had attempted to go down memory lane.

"So, how is the paving company," Harold finally broke his silence.

"Good," Phillip answered easily. "Paycheck's not bad."

"Not what you're used to, I'm sure," Harold offered slyly.

Phillip shrugged as he set down his fork and his right hand dropped to his side, "It's not so bad. I'm coming up on a promotion soon."

"That's wonderful," Jean chimed, "isn't that Harold."

"Yeah, great," Harold forced out.

"It's almost summertime," Jean continued, "thinking about doing anything?"

Phillip shrugged again, glancing at Kate out of the corner of his eye as he dropped his hand onto Kate's chair underneath the tablecloth, fingertips gently pressed against her bare thigh. She shifted a little at the sudden contact, fingers tightening on her silverware.

"I kind of like it here in Walpole, I missed it," Phillip smiled as he looked just past Kate to Harold, eyes lingering on the young redhead just long enough to get his point across. He knew better, he shouldn't be baiting Harold, not when wanted to honestly pursue Kate. Pissing her father off, who had a gun, probably wasn't Phillip's smartest idea ever. But, as Phillip was constantly reminded, Kate made him stupid in a special kind of way.

"Enough about me," Phillip chuckled lowly, shifting his hand to slid across the top of Kate's thigh, fingers dipping between the soft flesh of her thighs and stroking the hidden skin. "Your father told me you draw, Kate. I'd love to see your work after dinner, I don't know much about art, but I'd be happy to learn from someone so talented."

Phillip couldn't quite tell if the blush that raced up Kate's body was due to the compliment or his fingers playing a serenade higher and higher on her skin.

"Su-sure," Kate smiled weakly at him, her eyes bright with pleasure, "I'd be happy to show you."

"I look forward to it," Phillip practically purred. "Dinner is great, by the way."

The half-smirk, half-smile that settled on Phillip's face was playing well. Maybe charming wasn't quite out of his grasp. He was doing okay. Jean was putty in his hands, Phillip couldn't exactly lunge across the table and strangle him like he looked like he wanted to, and Junior was scowling less and less, though that might have to be attributed to his little girlfriend.

Once the table was cleared, and Phillip, Junior, Kate, Rachel, and Harold had been shooed into the backyard to set up a bonfire. The three men took over the building and setting of the bonfire, leaving the two sisters to sit back and laugh at the clumsy and competitive nature of the trio.

"Phillip seems to like you," Rachel nudged her sister as they sat together in the hammock.

"He's just being nice," Kate offered.

"Katie, I've met the man," Rachel hugged her little sister, "he doesn't really do nice. In fact, he's been kinda adorable with you, but you always bring out the best in people."

Kate was stiff as Rachel spoke, not quite sure how to take the words. "I don't know, maybe you just met him at a bad time."

"Junior agrees with me, well, about him being really sweet and nice with you. He and Phillip aren't on great terms right now, but seeing him with you, I think is helping," Rachel tried to explain. "He isn't hard on the eyes either," the girl trailed off before they both burst out laughing.

"You're ridiculous," Kate giggled, but couldn't deny that Phillip was more than a little handsome.

"Are you going to bail and go hang out with Sam," Rachel asked as the fire caught and the men walked over to them.

"You're going over to Sam's," Harold asked, catching the tail end of the conversation.

Kate shrugged as Rachel rolled off the hammock and latched onto Junior, dragging him away to a chair and settling on his lap. "I might," Kate got to her feet, "I don't know yet."

"Well if you want to go, you should," Harold hugged his daughter, lacing his fingers in her hair.

Kate didn't need to be facing Phillip to feel the heat of his gaze on her back or his presence, "I'm going to go grab my sketchbook and maybe I'll text him, kay?" Kate slipped away from the duo, just a little hesitant to leave her father and her maybe-boyfriend alone together.

When Kate returned it was to her parents and Junior and Rachel both curled up in chairs and Phillip sitting in the hammock. With long strides Kate crossed the distance to Phillip, standing at his feet she handed him the book. Phillip took it with a hard look at her, eyes narrowed in the slowly darkening night. Dropping the book to his lap, Phillip wrapped his hand around Kate's wrist and tugged her down beside him. Kate slid against him, his weight and gravity landing her wedged against his side, his arm around her shoulders, her legs half atop his.

"Who's Sam," he growled lowly.

Kate's back arched, eyes locked on her parents' still forms not too far away, as Phillip's hand slid from her arm to her bare belly, "No one, my lab partner."

"Seems like someone to me," his fingers shifted firmly across her taut skin, hidden beneath her shirt, as he dipped each of his large fingers in her belly button and grazed the top of her shorts.

With every centimeter of skin Phillip touched, Kate's breathing became more erratic. "No," she shuddered as the warmth of his hand pressed affectionately against her cooler skin. "He's just my lab partner."

"So you don't want to go see him," Phillip asked.

"No," Kate quickly shook her head and shifted as she heard her father's voice.

"Katie, come on and sit by the fire," Harold called back.

Kate shook her head despite the fact that the sun had finally set and her father couldn't actually see her shaking her head, "I'm just finishing showing Phillip my pictures." The sketchbook lay abandoned on Phillip's lap, forgotten in the haze of his touch.

"Pity," Phillip hummed, tilting his head so he could place a kiss on Kate's forehead, her nose, her cheek. His mouth hovered over hers, their breath mingling even as Kate's trembled with each brush of Phillip's hands and fingers. "I would have liked to see you later, Kate."

She swallowed as his the deepness of his voice had her shivering and melting in his arms. She licked her lower lip, watching him. His dark eyes flashed as he pulled her closer, "I need you Katie."

In a flash, Phillip had his other hand curled in her hair, and his lips were ghosting across hers. Kate's lips were more than soft, they were slightly damp and warm and pliant. It was the barest of kisses, if it could even be considered that. It was over sooner than Phillip wanted, but his control was slipping. He exhaled heavily, resting his forehead against hers for a moment before he pulled back and pulled Kate to rest on his shoulder. Even with just the smallest of contact he could taste her on his lips.

Grinning to himself, Phillip decided that maybe he could do charming, and if the moan Kate had released as he pulled away from her lips had been any indication, he could do irresistible too.

A/N: Well…this may have gotten away from me just a little bit. Someone asked for a kiss, a sneaky kiss, and I thought I would indulge you just a little. I'm working up to them being more public, Harold is really not going to enjoy that, but Jean is inadvertently keeping him too busy to notice her daughter is stealing her ex/current-crush (man is that woman weird). Thank you for all the support, and keep it coming!