escapes. I try to stop it. I don’t want the night to end, but I know it has to. I’ve got work in the morning, and so does he.
“I should go,” he says. “It’s late.” He tilts my chin up and kisses me tenderly, parting my lips, his tongue circling mine. This man takes his time, no rush. He’s obviously not the “fuck and run” type. My body relaxes, and I slip my hand under his shirt. The warm muscles of his back ripple under my fingertips, and my legs slightly open. He takes it as an invitation, one I honestly didn’t mean to send.
“I can stay,” he whispers and reaches under my shirt.
Quickly, I sit up and flatten my shirt. “I don’t do this! We just met today! I’m not a girl who does this, like this!”
“We actually met yesterday,” he says, grinning. “It’s past midnight now.” I give him my best eye roll as I pull him to his feet and walk him towards the front door. “Do me a favor,” he says. “Make sure you lock the door after I leave.”
“I will,” I say.
He tucks my hair behind my ears and kisses me long and slow. “One more favor—keep your little toy in that drawer.”
“Jealous?”
“Absolutely.”
CHAPTER FIVE
KENZIE
Like every other, I start this morning making three phone calls—the first to the director of a breast cancer clinical trial, the second to a specialist in New York, and the third to a clinic in Switzerland. And like every other, each call ends the same way—rejection. It’s been the same routine for many months.
But I’ll continue it tomorrow morning, and the one after that. I’ll keep calling until someone gives me the right answer. Quitting isn’t in my DNA, and I’ve seen too much of it before. My father quit on my mother; Brandon quit on Tessa; my stepfather and ex-boyfriend aren’t any better.
I stick my earbuds in and start to sew. “Baby Got Back” by Sir Mix-a-Lot starts playing. I love it, but I know I don’t have that song on my iPod. Sure, I have “All About That Bass” by Meghan Trainor—it’s my theme song—but what’s up with the one playing? I look down, seeing that a new playlist has been created. Tessa! It’s all songs about butts: “Bootylicious” by Destiny’s Child, “Back Dat Ass Up” by Juvenile, “Thong Song” by Sisqo. There’s at least twenty more. I crack up laughing. Only Tessa would do something like this.
So shaking my booty, I start in on the day. Come on, ass, it’s time to get busy.
There are orders to process and more on the way. I feel like I am three months behind, but the smile across my face makes up for the stress. I put on my best Texas twang to sing out “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk” by Trace Adkins. Despite the weight on my shoulders and lack of sleep last night, I feel like I can run a marathon. A hot guy has a way of bringing that out in a girl.
My skin heats up thinking about Kane—how we talked and talked, how his body felt when he pulled me close, how sexy he is. I don’t know where this is heading, or what Kane has in mind, but the whole thing was over-the-top sexy—showing up at my place after hours, propping me up on my work table, and kissing me like he might never get another chance.
I let my fingers run across the work table. Will I ever look at it the same? Maybe I should have let him have his way with me? I shake my head at myself. This isn’t the right time to get serious or have some random fling. Will Kane—after a week or two—even want to deal with my drama anymore? He is a successful, handsome attorney who can get any girl he wants.
But for some reason, he seemed really interested in me. I have to give this a shot. I don’t really have a choice in the matter. All I can think about is the way he ran his finger across his bottom lip. The image replaying in my mind, it makes me sew as fast as ever, my hands trying to keep up with my heart.
“Kenzie?” Tessa calls out, yanking out one of my earbuds. “Like my music selections?” I shake my head
“I should go,” he says. “It’s late.” He tilts my chin up and kisses me tenderly, parting my lips, his tongue circling mine. This man takes his time, no rush. He’s obviously not the “fuck and run” type. My body relaxes, and I slip my hand under his shirt. The warm muscles of his back ripple under my fingertips, and my legs slightly open. He takes it as an invitation, one I honestly didn’t mean to send.
“I can stay,” he whispers and reaches under my shirt.
Quickly, I sit up and flatten my shirt. “I don’t do this! We just met today! I’m not a girl who does this, like this!”
“We actually met yesterday,” he says, grinning. “It’s past midnight now.” I give him my best eye roll as I pull him to his feet and walk him towards the front door. “Do me a favor,” he says. “Make sure you lock the door after I leave.”
“I will,” I say.
He tucks my hair behind my ears and kisses me long and slow. “One more favor—keep your little toy in that drawer.”
“Jealous?”
“Absolutely.”
CHAPTER FIVE
KENZIE
Like every other, I start this morning making three phone calls—the first to the director of a breast cancer clinical trial, the second to a specialist in New York, and the third to a clinic in Switzerland. And like every other, each call ends the same way—rejection. It’s been the same routine for many months.
But I’ll continue it tomorrow morning, and the one after that. I’ll keep calling until someone gives me the right answer. Quitting isn’t in my DNA, and I’ve seen too much of it before. My father quit on my mother; Brandon quit on Tessa; my stepfather and ex-boyfriend aren’t any better.
I stick my earbuds in and start to sew. “Baby Got Back” by Sir Mix-a-Lot starts playing. I love it, but I know I don’t have that song on my iPod. Sure, I have “All About That Bass” by Meghan Trainor—it’s my theme song—but what’s up with the one playing? I look down, seeing that a new playlist has been created. Tessa! It’s all songs about butts: “Bootylicious” by Destiny’s Child, “Back Dat Ass Up” by Juvenile, “Thong Song” by Sisqo. There’s at least twenty more. I crack up laughing. Only Tessa would do something like this.
So shaking my booty, I start in on the day. Come on, ass, it’s time to get busy.
There are orders to process and more on the way. I feel like I am three months behind, but the smile across my face makes up for the stress. I put on my best Texas twang to sing out “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk” by Trace Adkins. Despite the weight on my shoulders and lack of sleep last night, I feel like I can run a marathon. A hot guy has a way of bringing that out in a girl.
My skin heats up thinking about Kane—how we talked and talked, how his body felt when he pulled me close, how sexy he is. I don’t know where this is heading, or what Kane has in mind, but the whole thing was over-the-top sexy—showing up at my place after hours, propping me up on my work table, and kissing me like he might never get another chance.
I let my fingers run across the work table. Will I ever look at it the same? Maybe I should have let him have his way with me? I shake my head at myself. This isn’t the right time to get serious or have some random fling. Will Kane—after a week or two—even want to deal with my drama anymore? He is a successful, handsome attorney who can get any girl he wants.
But for some reason, he seemed really interested in me. I have to give this a shot. I don’t really have a choice in the matter. All I can think about is the way he ran his finger across his bottom lip. The image replaying in my mind, it makes me sew as fast as ever, my hands trying to keep up with my heart.
“Kenzie?” Tessa calls out, yanking out one of my earbuds. “Like my music selections?” I shake my head
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