Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Kenny
L iz had been quiet this morning. She’d said goodnight once we got to our doors last night, but nothing else. Something was going on in that head, but we hadn’t breached any real, personal topics again and I’d sensed last night wasn’t the time to push.
I wolfed down breakfast in the small café at the hotel, head on a swivel in case she arrived. Did I want to talk to Liz for more than a few minutes before we picked up the clients?
Sure did.
Did I man up enough to invite her to join me for breakfast?
Sure didn’t.
But the thing was, it would’ve been weird. We’d planned to meet this morning so any additional communication would seem over the top. I didn’t want to come across as anything but friendly and professional. Yes, I’d quite enjoyed the pinch of a blush that rose to her cheeks when her gaze tracked down my torso last night, and that she didn’t seem to hate the way I looked, but I also didn’t want to seem sleazy.
I just… wanted more.
It didn’t make much sense considering she was here temporarily and had a shell she had no intention of cracking. But I’d also seen flashes of her that called out to some part of me I wasn’t used to, and all I could figure was I should roll with it and not overthink it.
A small group of businessy-looking people shuffled out the doors and my watch buzzed to alert me of the time. I polished off the last bite of my breakfast and piled the utensils onto the plate before hustling out of there. I had ten minutes to clean up, pack, and get back here so I could be a few minutes early to meet Liz.
Ten minutes later, Liz stepped off the elevator looking?—
My heart swooped and sputtered in my chest.
“All good?” she asked, tipping her head to one side.
“Great. You?” Thankfully, I recovered from the swooping, and we walked out the sliding glass doors with bags in hand.
She confirmed she was all good as we approached the vehicle. Our legs moved in sync, and being the cheese ball I was, I loved it.
A small smile crept into the corner of my mouth.
“Do I want to know what you’re smiling about?” She popped the trunk.
Not about to reveal the depth of my nerdiness or how inordinately pleased I was she’d keyed in on my expression, I gestured dramatically at the sky. “Gorgeous day.” Gorgeous woman. “Good mission. It’s a good day. ”
Her eyes softened and I could swear her lips curled into a smile even though her face appeared unchanged. She wasn’t as broody as Stone or straight up grumpy as Beast, but her natural tendency was not smiling. Any hint of one gave me a hit of victory and only amped up the internal voice that said, more, more, more.
We loaded in and she navigated us onto the roadway.
“I admire that about you,” she said, her voice so quiet, I thought I’d hallucinated it.
“Admire what?”
“That sunny perspective. You’re definitely a glass half-full kind of guy.”
She didn’t glance over at me, instead keeping her gaze focused ahead. Her driving was technically perfect—she signaled, moved, chose her speed, and functioned with precision. I wondered how she’d do in less-than-ideal circumstances, but from what I’d seen years ago and in every other instance more recently, she handled stress like a walk in the park.
An image flashed into my mind unbidden. Me and Liz, hands joined and fingers linked, arms swinging, wandering through a park.
Sounds nice , my brain traitorously thought, more than a bit wistful.
“Am I wrong?”
Her voice snatched me from the ill-timed reverie. My mind and I needed to have a serious chat because I could not be sitting two feet from her thinking those marshmallow thoughts for the next day.
“No. I am unapologetically an optimist.”
She made a sound—not quite a scoff, not quite a grumble.
“That’s a bad thing?” I asked, a teeny tiny pinprick of disappointment worming through me, even though it didn’t surprise me.
“Not at all. If you’ve had a life that has granted you optimism, good for you. It may sound pathetic, but I envy it.”
Ah. “I’m not sure if my life granted me optimism. There have been plenty of times I haven’t felt optimistic. I choose it. And after losing my fingers, and several other times, it was absolutely a choice, not a feeling.” It might be overkill, but I added, “I know it’s a little much for some people.”
She was quiet for a few minutes and before I’d figured out how else to address what she’d said without seeming like I was downright mining for personal information about her, she parked in front of the hotel where we’d pick up our clients.
I was familiar with her line of thought—that only a person who led a charmed life could be positive like I was. But that wasn’t true at all. Most of the people I knew were fairly positive, especially once they’d addressed the things in their lives that had harmed them. We all had something. No, not everyone was as overtly optimistic as I was and that was fine—I didn’t really want to hang out with a bunch of dudes exactly like me. But many of my closest friends had a frame of reference that pushed them more toward hope than despair.
Luc, Bruce, Adam… they were generally positive people despite hard things in their pasts. Beast had grown in that area significantly in the last few years, even amidst grief. And Stone? He’d battled his way through the mud in order to hold on to a semblance of hope. His was hard won, and I rejoiced over any moment he could see the world through a lens of hope .
Before exiting the vehicle, she turned to me, pressing the seatbelt eject button as she did. “I’m sorry I was a jerk.”
I raised a brow. “How were you a jerk?”
Her eyes flickered around, a frown on her pretty mouth. “Just… with the optimist thing. I’m sure I sounded pretty critical of it, but I genuinely admire it. I’m trying to… be more like that.”
No details, but enough honesty that it felt like a victory. “No apology needed. It’s okay if you’re not an optimist. I’ll happily rub off on you.”
Her eyes widened.
“I mean, uh—” The reality of just how creepy that might’ve sounded hit me upside the head. “I just mean I get it. Beast is one of my best friends. Stone, too. So I’m not scared of people who aren’t all sunshine and roses, even if I happen to be that way myself. It’d be boring if we were all the same.”
My cheeks burned, but the way her lips pressed together like they were working to hide a smile eased some of the heat.
Also, I shouldn’t have been noticing whether she was smiling or not—I shouldn’t have been looking at her face that closely. Whoopsie daisy.
“Fair enough. And thanks.” And with that, she got out.
In a matter of minutes, we went through the confirmation protocol with hotel and local security, then arrived at the room on a top floor of the swanky place. It was unlikely I’d ever be super wealthy, but I liked stepping into these spaces I never would’ve imagined being able to afford growing up, and knowing I could get a room here for a night if I so chose and it wouldn’t break the bank.
I knocked twice and after a brief shuffle behind the door, it opened.
Jack McKean stood tall and stupidly handsome on the other side. His face appeared more haggard than I’d seen him outside of the dramatic silver screen roles he tended toward, and he still looked straight out of a magazine spread.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, stepping back and letting us enter the suite.
“Happy to help,” I said, noting thus far, Liz had made no sound.
Would she be wowed by Jack? I couldn’t blame her. I was.
But also a vain little part of me thought… shoot. I kept in shape but I was no movie star.
Jack shut the door behind us, then extended his hand to me. “Good to see you.”
I accepted his hand and he hauled me forward into a half-embrace. One of those we shake hands but also hug and pat each other’s backs things only men seemed to do.
Um, hello. My mind was screaming, “Are we best friends now!?”
“Likewise.” I hoped I didn’t sound as excited by his friendliness as I felt. I tended toward recognizing people and putting them at ease, but in the face of a client and A-list celebrity, I never wanted to seem like I was encroaching on his space or trying to get something from him. Everyone knew Jack.
But also, he’d just half-hugged me so I guessed now we were bffs. Wee!
“This is Elizabeth Malcom. She’s new to Saint.” I didn’t need to explain she was fully vetted—Jack would know that. He was close with Julian Grenier, Bruce, and Wilder, and by now, he knew Cookie and Jess very well after they’d both worked with him personally at different times, not to mention most of the other Saint staff.
“Nice to meet you. Thanks for being here,” Jack said, taking Liz’s proffered hand. They shook once, then released.
I couldn’t resist the pull toward her face, though I internally braced against what I’d find there. Peripherally, I saw them both step back and… nothing. She betrayed nothing but an expression of calm and readiness.
Not that I would’ve expected her to be ruffled by a celebrity as someone who’d likely met all manner of foreign dignitaries and maybe even celebrities, but her seeming to have absolutely no change in demeanor was nothing short of fascinating.
Jack stepped closer and lowered his voice. “She’s almost ready. Please just…” he exhaled, his brow furrowed. “Be kind.”
“Of course,” Liz said, a rote response.
But also, of course we would. Jack had to know that since he knew the quality of people and values at Saint, but he was clearly worried, and his concern for the woman gave me a little tick of awareness.
This feeling, I knew. I’d always had it, but it’d been honed in battle and had developed in new ways as I’d transitioned to Saint and the danger wasn’t always as overt. This sensation told me we hadn’t gotten the entire story and any minute, we were about to.
“No issues. Can we grab bags?” I asked, every alarm in my head blaring as he didn’t say another word. I wasn’t about to show him his words concerned me, so we’d focus on baggage, but when a man like Jack looked this worried… there was cause for concern.
And when the petite blond woman walked in, her belly rounded by what must’ve been a nearly full-term child, one look at her face told me why.