Chapter 11
Canaan
I strolled on the cobbled street, searching for Kensie.
I dropped her off in front of a boutique three hours ago, with admittedly terse instructions that she would need to call the resort for transportation if she took more than three hours.
She slammed the door in response, and I sped off in the opposite direction, wanting distance between us.
I needed to be reminded that Kensie was like everyone else who didn’t truly see me.
People who judged me or used me once they knew I had money.
I shouldn’t have dropped my guard with her since my win yesterday.
This was the same woman who might have leaked her own sex video that cost me major endorsements and possibly more fallout.
I believed her yesterday when she swore she would never hurt someone to rise to the top.
Observing the easy smile and the comfort with which she lied to her viewers made me doubt her words.
Kensie had been too happy to boast about being my wife and about our new adventure.
Back at the cabana during brunch, she said she didn’t like PDA.
Yet, she had been all over me for her fans.
She’d accused me of being an asshole, as if she didn’t keep switching it up on me too.
I had to keep my head around her before I fell deep first and ended up with my heart in my hand.
Kensie Garrett was the type of woman I would never wife.
She was too independent, too concerned about her own career, and had too much mouth.
I needed a woman like my grandmother if I were ever to get married.
She knew how to make a man feel like the king on a throne.
She knew when to be the supportive wife and when to take the lead.
Kensie always needed to be the lead and would never be that woman, yet I couldn’t deny that she affected me like no other woman.
Kensie, with her quick wit, intelligence, and ambition, appealed to my intellectual side.
Her smoking hot body and the explosive temper that I could tease into blistering passion attracted the raw, gutter side of me.
More importantly, her presence motivated me and led to an easy win.
I needed Kensie, and that realization was a gut punch to my soul.
I checked my Hublot watch. It’d been almost four hours, and I hadn’t heard from Kensie.
I should return to the resort, prepare for my trip, and arrange for someone to pick her up.
My schedule was too jam-packed to worry about her.
Once I arrive in Miami tomorrow, Malcolm and I plan to meet the Ferrari team at the practice site to get a lay of the land and familiarize ourselves with the simulation lab.
We would be there all day and most of the night.
The thrill of an upcoming race always excited me.
I didn’t mind the long, grueling hours or the wear on my body from traveling at such speeds.
Only the exhilarating bliss I experienced every time I sat in my racer mattered.
To be a Formula One driver had never been a dream until I began to see NASCAR in my rearview.
Now, it was here, and I would do anything to win, including Kensie Garrett.
For the next three months, I had my good luck charm. Somehow, I would fight through my distrust and make the most of my time with Kensie, and then we would go our separate ways.
Walking past a storefront window of a bright pink dress shop, I glimpsed Kensie standing in front of the mirror, checking out how a frilly pale green cocktail dress fit.
Air from my lungs caught in my throat at the vision she presented.
A whimsical fairy or a beautiful pixie with her braids pulled into a bun on top of her head.
Her wistful expression affected me, and any ill feelings disappeared.
I entered the store, wrapped my arms around her from behind, and placed my cheek next to hers. “You’ve got to get this dress.”
Surprise, distrust, and uncertainty flitted across her face before she relaxed in my arms and replied, “You think so? I didn’t know if I should find a long dress. You never told me what I should buy.”
“No long dresses unless they have a split to here.” I touched her upper thigh, very near her apex. “Your legs are way too sexy ever to be covered up.”
“Thank you.” She blushed prettily. “I always thought they were too thick for my body.”
“Everything on your body is perfect, especially the way this dress looks on you.” I inhaled the cocoa butter smell of her braids. “My bride-to-be is a beautiful woman, isn’t she?”
“She is and does look good in this dress,” the beaming saleswoman commented with a heavy accent. “Congratulations.”
“Gracias, we’ll take it.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a Black Card. “Is that all you’re buying?”
Kensie focused on her bare feet. “A couple of casual dresses. I already bought everything else.”
I glanced at the saleswoman’s name tag and passed the card to her. “Carmelita, charge me for whatever she tried on already that you thought she looked amazing in.”
“Everything she tried on fit her perfectly, senor,” she replied.
Capturing Kensie’s gaze in the mirror, she nodded with a slow smile.
“Then everything.”
While we stood at the counter, Kensie bumped my hip with hers. “Thank you. You good?”
I replied, “Yeah. Needed to walk. Get my mind right about you.”
She slanted her gaze at me. “All right, because this moody shit you pull ain’t cute.”
“Neither is the phony. Don’t act like we have the best life ever when we know it’s not the truth.” I grabbed the long plastic bag with her dresses and gestured for her to retrieve my credit card from Carmelita. “You can keep it for your use. I’ll get my manager to add you to my account.”
Kensie held her hand up. “I can just show you receipts.”
Carmelita pushed the card into her hand. “If a man gave me access to his money, the right thing to say is to thank you and then marry him as soon as you get the chance.”
I grinned. “Tell this stubborn woman again, Carmelita.”
Kensie shook her head and took the card. “Gracias.”
We walked alongside the cobbled street in companionable silence. Much different than the tenseness of the ride over.
“You really think I’m phony?”
I considered her question before answering. “I never thought that in the past, but earlier today, you weren’t yourself. At least not the Kensie I remember.”
Kensie explained, “Honestly, we don’t really know each other. I was merely telling a story to my followers.”
“A story you don’t have to tell. Let the people just see whatever we do naturally.”
“Our relationship is fake . . . or did you forget?”
“Our engagement is fake, but you and I are real. We have chemistry, and I think we actually like each other a little bit.” I smirked. “Well, maybe you like me more since you like to threaten to stab women like a crazy, jealous wife. Had the women screaming because they believed you.”
She punched my arm. “You do remember.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t remember. Malcolm told me how the women ran from my place, scared out of their minds. I called him when I dropped you off. I hate that I don’t remember it at all. I bet you look so fucking hot when you’re in a jealous rage.”
“Let a woman hit on you in my face when we get to Miami, and you’ll find out.” She pulled on my earlobe. Unfortunately, she pressed the diamond stud into my lobe.
I winced and removed her hand. “While we’re in Miami, I’m flying in an anger management specialist. You need serious help.”
“Mess with another woman and find out how much help I need,” Kensie half teased.
I stopped walking and turned to face her.
“This is us being chill. Enjoying each other’s company.
This is what your peeps should see.” I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, held it high enough to see us both, and hit the live button on my Instagram.
“Hey, this my girl, Kens. We just did some shopping and headed back to the resort. Can’t wait until you see all that we have in store.
I’m grateful and excited about Miami, and she’s a big part of that.
See ya.” I clicked off. “See, that’s how we’re going to do it if I’m going to be on camera with you. ”
Kensie folded her arms and looked up at me. “Is that true? Do you really feel grateful and excited because of me?”
I crossed my arms too. “You tell me first.”
She shuffled from one foot to another. “I guess I do.”
“Is it so hard to admit that I make you smile?” I pushed down her arms.
“Yes,” she promptly replied, wearing a petulant pout.
“Why? Because of the bullshit of my past. We were still in college. You don’t know me now, either.” Tourists and natives walked around us as we stood in the middle of a sidewalk.
“Um . . . Weren’t you just in trouble for messing with the wife of one of your sponsors?”
“She approached me as a single woman. Had no idea she was lying or who she really was until the media blew it up,” I protested.
“So married women are off-limits?”
“Yes. I don’t need that drama. Enough drama with single women trying to tie a brother down like you,” I said slyly before walking ahead of Kensie.
“Come back here,” she called from behind me. “Bet you won’t say that to my face.”
“You’re right. My grandmother raised me to be a smart man.
” I laughed loudly and jogged to the parked car.
Once I started it, she hurried her steps as if I would drive away.
I rolled down the window. “You don’t have to rush.
I would never leave you.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them.
I prided myself on being truthful, and one day, I would leave Kensie.
Of that, I was sure.
Even with a tempting woman like Kensie Garrett, I couldn’t afford any serious entanglements.