Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Elizabeth
K enny got pulled into a long-term planning meeting I didn’t attend since I didn’t plan to be in Silverton long.
Wasn’t that just a handy little reminder?
I might not know exactly when I’d return to my regularly scheduled programming, nor did I especially want to focus on it right now, but I wouldn’t be here long term.
Plus, I needed a little distance from last night. The kiss, first, and my visceral reaction to it, which had scared me because I didn’t feel things this strongly. My tossing and turning had done nothing to quell the rioting thoughts that’d only intensified when Kenny left.
My heart ached at the memory.
His family had been so awful to him, I’d had no choice to but rage at them. I’d run the scenario through a dozen times in my head overnight and every version had me railing at them. I couldn’t regret it.
Nor did I regret the way Kenny had looked at me—like I was some kind of avenging angel on his behalf. It’d felt a little like that.
And then in my apartment… he was so intense and determined to kiss me into oblivion, and I’d been a thousand percent on board until one thought had brought all the passion and enthusiasm to a screeching halt.
What if he was only kissing me because of what I’d done? What if this was more than he’d normally want from me, but he was so caught up in the moment and the emotions his family stirred up, he was lost to the reality of our situation?
And maybe a tiny whisper of a worry that those kisses would consume me and singe every part of my being and leave nothing but ashes in their wake. A pile of ashes couldn’t do anything. It couldn’t run, leave, go. Could it even stay?
We hadn’t discussed things after our kiss two days ago, so I didn’t actually know where we stood, or if there was even a way to figure that out.
What future could we possibly have?
And why the heck was I even worrying about the future?
Because your heart is wrapped around this guy and wants desperately to keep him .
I ignored the deeply unhinged voice in my mind and pushed out of the Saint building and into the cold air. I needed actual space and if it weren’t icy today, I’d try for a hike. Instead, I headed for All Booked Up in search of the one person in this town who might offer me some comfort .
“Welcome in—oh! Hey!” Jo moved from behind the checkout counter and came at me with arms wide.
I welcomed her hug, and it lasted long enough, she had questions in her eyes when we pulled away.
“I’m always happy for a hug from you, but that one felt like you needed it. Care to share?”
I cleared my throat, emotion lodged there, likely due to the lack of sleep.
Keep telling yourself that, delulu.
“It’s been a busy couple days. I don’t want to go too long without seeing you while I’m here.” Because soon, I’d be back across the world, back to the life I was living in a grayscale existence and remembering all the color here.
The more I admitted the difference between the way I lived in Budapest and what Jo and all the people living here had, the more I worried about this nameless restlessness building in me. The more the pinch of anxiety and anger at my job felt more like an ache encroaching on more than just a small, compartmentalized and temporary part of me.
I was losing touch there, the lack of briefings and updates sidelining me, and worse, I was dropping anchor in this place in a weird bid to have something to hold on to. Or was I? Because Kenny and I hadn’t spoken again since that night. My dad wanted me to look at what I really wanted in life. And Jo… Well, Jojo just wanted me around. How did I do this when I myself didn’t know where my feet were supposed to land?
She smiled and pulled me in for another hug. “In that case, I’ll have another.”
I took it, letting everything blip out in the warmth of her embrace.
We laughed at her cheesiness, and a customer came in with a question, so I milled around, picking up a new romance. I tended to read on my e-reader, but occasionally liked the feel of a brand new paperback in hand.
By the time the customer left and I went to check out, Jo was waiting for me at the desk.
“So you’re coming on Saturday,” she said, no hint of an actual question.
“I told you I would, and I’ve read the book. I’ll be here.”
She nodded once with approval. “Good.”
The small hesitation after that comment made me study her. “What else were you going to say?”
“Nothing, I just?—”
“Say what you want to say, Jojo. Don’t censor yourself.” She’d spent years not telling me everything and hiding away a part of herself. We’d worked through it, but occasionally, moments like this crept in and I could tell she was holding back.
“This is going to sound… whatever. I won’t caveat it. I’ll just say I want you to come to book club because I think you’ll enjoy it, but I also want you to see what it’s like to have friends and be in community with people. I know you haven’t had much of that, and I just want to give you a taste.”
Her glasses glinted, but I could see the veracity in her brown eyes, the same shade as mine and our mother’s. There was hope there, and the longing she had for me to experience this.
“I promised you I’d be there, so I will be. I’m looking forward to it.” And part of me was.
But part of me was bracing against what I’d find there because I knew it’d make going back to what I had before that much harder. At one time, I might’ve been embarrassed by her suggestion because it meant she clearly knew I didn’t have that for myself, but my time here had at least softened those defenses. I couldn’t pretend I had this fullness, this kaleidoscope of experience. I simply didn’t. In Europe, I was a spy, period. That was a job title and a descriptor of my lifestyle in one, and it was spare. Here I was… me. Whoever that was.
But maybe, like she said, all of this would help me find it for myself. And maybe I’d like what I’d find out. I hoped.
Kenny didn’t come to happy hour at Craic. I saw him in passing and he seemed okay, but not his chipper self. I thought about texting him, but shied away from it in hopes he’d be there tonight and I could pull him aside to talk. So when I realized he wasn’t there, I did my best to stay present with my colleagues and said hello to Jo’s friends, yet again promising them I’d see them at book club tomorrow, and then I left.
I went right to Kenny’s house.
After I knocked once and there was no answer, I rang the bell. My pulse began to climb when he didn’t answer immediately, even though I’d never been here without him. Maybe he was always slow to answer or maybe he was tucking Kit away so he wouldn’t sneak out.
Or maybe his family had kidnapped him and was holding him for ransom, expecting Jack McKean to pay them for his release.
And maybe you’ve read one too many Josie Wade novels lately…
Before I resorted to calling the man—a thing I likely should’ve done before I showed up on his doorstep but too late now!—the door swung open and Kenny stood, bare-chested and bleary-eyed, cradling a sleeping Kit in one hand against his very flat stomach.
“Liz, wow. You look so beautiful.”
He sagged against the door and the way his words were lazy and slow instantly clued me in.
“You have your own little happy hour here?” The question didn’t really need asking. His red-rimmed, sleepy eyes and the borderline slurred speech painted a very clear picture.
His eyes widened and his smile grew. “Oh, woman, yes I did.”
Oh, womin, yesh I dithd.
“Can I come in?” This man needed water and probably something to eat.
“Would you? I would love that. I would absolutely love to have you in my house again.” He stumble-stepped back, and I entered his living room, half expecting to see it ransacked.
“What’re you lookin’ for?” he asked, shuffling in front of me, but clearly having noticed the way I was surveying his space for hints of what’d happened.
Not that he wasn’t allowed to have a few drinks and get sloppy if he wanted, but it seemed quite out of character for the man. He didn’t strike me as someone who liked to drink alone or to excess.
“Just trying to figure out if you’re okay,” I said honestly.
“Aw, that’s so nice. You’re really really really nice.” He leaned on the doorframe between the living room and kitchen, his gaze hazy, and then he startled, looking down at the little black ball in his hand like he’d just realized he was holding his cat. “And oh my gosh, Kit is really really really cute. Like he’s so cute and I love him so much and—” he sniffed. “I’m just so glad I get to be his cat dad.”
“Okayyyy. Mind if I take him and get him settled in his bed?”
I reached for the kitten and Kenny nodded with so much enthusiasm, I hoped he didn’t start a brain bleed. My fingers grazed his chest when I took the small creature, and with shockingly fast reflexes, he caught one of my wrists and guided my hand back to his tattooed skin.
“This feels good.”
His blue eyes were laser-focused on mine and his taut skin was burning through my palm. The man was gorgeous at all times, but shirtless and unfiltered, he was deadly. He would also likely be horrified if he kept this up, but I didn’t want to push him away and have him shut down on me.
“It does,” I agreed, my thumb stroking along the side of his pec of its own volition.
No, thumb! Bad thumb.
“I would like to feel your hands everywhere. And your mouth.” His lazy eyes widened. “And crap, I’m not too drunk to know I shouldn’t say that out loud I’m so sorry.” The hand pressing against mine disappeared and covered his mouth.
I stepped back, hiding a laugh and most definitely ignoring what those words had done to me. This was not True Confessions , and I shouldn’t be turned on by the fact he’d just said that. He didn’t know what he was saying and I wouldn’t hold it against him.
“Let me get this guy settled. Why don’t you have a seat in the kitchen?”
He nodded but didn’t move the hand covering his mouth. I didn’t bother hiding my chuckle then, though a needle of worry threaded into my chest. Something was off and I had a sinking sensation I knew what.
After depositing Kit in the laundry room and gently shutting the door, I returned to the kitchen to find him slumped in a seat in his breakfast nook, staring at his hand.
“Have you eaten dinner?” I asked softly, sensing his mood may have shifted.
It took him a minute, but he blinked me into focus. “Uh, I don’t think so. I didn’t eat lunch and then I was supposed to meet my family for dinner but then—” He scrubbed a hand down his face and his chin stayed low, practically glued to his chest. “So no, I haven’t eaten since breakfast or maybe the guacamole.”
The guacamole we had at dinner last night… yikes. No wonder he was ten sheets to the wind.
“Anything sound good?” I moved to the fridge and looked for something to make, then noticed a loaf of bread and quickly popped two slices into the toaster sitting nearby.
“I am not going to say you, because that would be inappropriate.”
I chuckled, turning to see if he had a little mischief in his eye, but his chin still rested on his chest, and I could see the downturn of his lips and brow.
“Hey, can you look at me?”
It took him a minute, but the second I saw more of his face, my heart broke and I froze. His eyes were glassy with tears and all the sunshine in his countenance had disappeared completely.
“I gave them money.” His voice was so brutally small and broken.
I dropped to my knees in front of him and took his hands in mine. “That’s great if that’s what you wanted to do.”
“I don’t know why I feel so… so sad about this. I’ve read this book. I know this story and I’m not surprised by the ending, but it still makes me feel so… broken.” His voice was ragged, and a tear slipped down his cheek.
“It’s okay to feel whatever you feel,” I said, fully recognizing these were words far easier to say than to adopt and believe for myself.
“I know. I just hate crying. I mean I hate crying over them. Why should they get any more of my tears? Why do I still care?” He swiped at the moisture and rested my hands on his legs.
“Because you’re not the kind of person who will stop caring about other people, even when they’ve mistreated you.”
He sniffled. “Just makes me feel like all the work I’ve done to get over this is failing me, but logically and probably without a few shots of tequila on an empty stomach, I would recognize that’s crap.”
I smiled and one side of his mouth quirked up.
“It is crap. You’re an amazing person and I’d be shocked if seeing them and having them act the way they did didn’t hurt you. I probably would’ve worried you’d been body-snatched.”
A watery laugh escaped him. “Yeah but then maybe I’d be a little more what people want. A little more of a man like they expect.”
He had to mean his family, and I didn’t give a damn what they wanted of him, but I couldn’t sit here and listen to him demean himself, even if wallowing was perfectly acceptable for a time. I stood, then shoved his knees together and slipped over them, sitting on his lap. His brows perked up and his eyes lit with awareness.
I took his stubbly face in my hands. “You are wonderful. You are loved by so many people who appreciate and admire and love you for exactly the man you are. I would be heartbroken if you were body-snatched or, more importantly, any other version of you than this one.”
He gave me a full smile. “Thank you for saying that.”
I wanted to say more, but maybe now wasn’t the time. I pulled him close and hugged him, doing whatever I could to push truth into him. You are loved. You are wonderful. You are exactly who you’re meant to be.
After a minute, I released him and stepped away.
“I’m completely fine if you want to stay right there until tomorrow morning.”
I chuckled and wiped at the corner of my eye. “I appreciate that, but you need something in your belly or you’ll be miserable tomorrow.”
The toast had popped at some point, so I slathered it with butter and slid it toward him.
“Aw, you cooked for me.”
This man. He was the sweetest man alive, regardless of sobriety. I didn’t anticipate seeing him like this again soon, but there was something lovely about knowing he was still himself, just even more unfiltered. He was sweet and warm and funny and flirty and loveable.
I wouldn’t think about all that right now, though. I’d focus on feeding him and doing whatever I could to abate the inevitable hangover he’d have. When he felt better, it was time to have a discussion.