Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
MIKAEL
I arrive home to a deafening silence. I've never been uncomfortable in my house before. My house isn't as sterile as Finn's. I have warm taupe walls, surround sound speakers, colorful area rugs in each room, and Italian leather furniture. The bathroom has vertical glass shower tiles, each in the color of beach glass, like emerald green and deep blue. The decorator stayed neutral, and the accent colors could be traded out to keep the house up with the changing times.
Kenzie's house is special. I was comfortable with the movie playing in the background through dinner, but it's more than that. Her home is lived in. Her laptop was on the table, and family pictures hung on her walls. I should have more, but the walls are decorated with expensive artwork. My man cave has cherished team pictures from my youth. Sherlock was my shadow throughout the evening. Bo and Sherlock add energy to the home.
Bo is like a sister to Kenzie. They have a long history and are kindred spirits. They are lucky to have each other.
I know Kenzie is proud to be so independent. But sometimes I wish she’d let others help her. She’d never accept financial help from me which is why I helped her anonymously. She deserves to have her dream come true. I want her dreams to come true. Isn’t that what being an Angel investor is all about? I can’t think of a more deserving person.
I hope she doesn't find out it's me. I don't want anything to come between us since we’ve taken our relationship to the next level. I hate secrets, but this one was necessary.
I refrained from putting my hand on her leg when we watched TV. Instead, I petted Sherlock for the entire hour. If I stopped, he'd wake up and paw my arm. It was agony to sit next to her and feel her warmth and not hold her hand. Her leggings cling to her shapely legs. I wanted to kiss every inch of her before I left.
Whenever Kenzie caught me looking at her, I was lost in her dreamy doe-eyed gaze. I don't have to rely on Finn or Simon to verify what they've told me. She loves me.
How did I miss this?
I've waited my entire life to find a woman who looks at me like I'm the only man in the room. Kenzie does this daily.
I'm a lucky man to have her trust. The kiss was only a taste of her, and I wanted more. I loved hanging out with her tonight. I could be myself, and it was gratifying. I knew Sherlock approved of us when he curled his lanky body next to my feet. He was extremely content.
Her lips were like buttery pie crust—warm, soft, and edible. I had to play games with my thoughts so I didn't sport a hard-on during dinner. I had a difficult time walking to my car after our first kiss.
I head upstairs and turn on the TV. Even with the noise, the house is still and sterile. The walls are ecru, and color exists in accent pieces, pillows, and blankets. My walls have large pieces of art to take up space, and area rugs were added to reduce noise. Most of my pictures are of the guys on the team and are in my man cave and entertainment room. My house doesn't have the lived-in vibe like Kenzie's.
I've been invited to her grand opening. I'm not one to celebrate the day of love, but I wouldn't miss her opening day. I'd be an asshole if I didn't show.
Luckily, only Finn knows that I'm her partner. He'd never say anything. I'm concerned that Bo inferred that Kenzie doesn't sleep well.
She looked tired, and knowing her medical history, I assume she's no stranger to trauma and stress. I worry she's pushing herself too hard to make the grand opening perfect. Investing in her shop was a no-brainer. No one will work harder than her to make it successful.
I text her before I retire for the night.
Get some sleep.
I will.
Liar
We'll see.
I chuckle. She manages to put her personality into everything she does, and text messages, it appears, aren't excluded.
I slip naked under the covers and observe the evening hockey scores. We're doing well this season. I text Finn.
What's up?
I had a date and booked the ski trip.
Things are heating up!
Yes.
Me, too.
Kenzie
No fucking way!
My phone rings.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Finn says.
“I know.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I'm taking it slowly.”
“So, you took my advice? Valentine's Day is coming up quickly. Are you sure you won't sabotage it?”
“You were right. I date women who are wearing a different designer suit and shoes, but underneath, they are the same. They have the same values and love for the fast lane.”
“This is good. You're venturing into the unknown; you're turning a page. Maybe your luck will change.”
“I'm not overthinking it,” I reply. “I'm afraid that I'd lose her if we dated. I was afraid she might see something she didn’t like. I didn't want to risk it. But tonight, I had to kiss her. It was the strangest thing. She was there, the moment was right, and I leaned into it.”
I don't know if I'm selling him or myself on my infatuation with Kenzie.
“How are you handling Valentine's Day?”
“Easy. She's having her grand opening.”
“Awesome.”
We chat about practice and I hang up. Now I’m tired. I retire to bed but thoughts of Kenzie keep me up late. I'm excited to be with her and I’m thrilled to be a part of her big day.
***
I hear trees banging the eves when I wake up. The wind is howling and I shrug it off to another brutal winter day. I pull on sweatpants and go downstairs to make myself a cup of coffee, and it sucks. I’m addicted to Kenzie’s.
I check the weather report, and discover we're under a weather advisory. Damn. I hope it won't be as severe as they predict, but our winters are intense. Maine is brutal and storms come up quickly.
I walk to my floor-to-ceiling windows and look at the thick snow as it builds a fresh blanket on the ground. the snow is as thick. If it were smoke, I wouldn't be able to breathe—it's that thick.
I decided to call Bo at the law firm where she works. When I’m connected to her, I obtain the information on the grand opening. I'm sure my social media will bring people in and that it will help her grand opening. I copied the details she texted me and pasted them into my accounts. I click send, and like magic, her event is viral.
I'm feeling proud of myself for helping. This is one occasion where my megastar status is helpful. I'm confident her opening will be a success, but I’m pulling out all the ammunition I have with a potential storm. Bo mentioned Kenzie’s been working night and day on the opening.
Tomorrow is the big day so I call her at the shop to see how she’s doing.
“What can I help you with?” I ask.
“Oh. I don't know. It's crazy here with deliveries. I've been up most of the night baking, and a storm is moving in. Just my luck!”
“Let's hope it won't interfere with your grand re-opening.”
“Are you coming by?”
“Sure, I'll be there in an hour.”
“Great. I’m sorry but it’s chaos here. I’ve gotta go.”
“I’ll see you soon!”
I race upstairs and later put on a sweater over my waffle shirt and slip into jeans. I glance out my bedroom window, and the snow is still coming down, and blowing like a son of a bitch. I'd better head out now.
I check in with Finn and text Kenzie that I'm on my way.
She replies with a thumbs up.
I drive carefully to the shop but it’s not looking good. The road conditions are brutal. Drivers have their blinkers on and are moving very slowly. And to top it off, before I even reach her street, I notice the traffic lights are out.
I treat the intersection as a four-way stop and proceed to park in front of her store.
My heart races with anxiety because a blizzard would cancel her event.
I walk to her shop and the sign on the door says closed. I look down the street and notice her employees are walking to the neighboring parking lot, where they are piling into their cars.
I push the door open and I hear Kenzie giving directions to the few employees who stand near here.
“What's happening?” I ask.
Her bottom lip puckers. She tries to speak, but it takes a few tries before she stutters, “The power is out!”
“Shit. I hoped it was only the street over. What are you going to do?”
“I had the cakes delivered today. But I have to bake all night to have the cupcakes ready tomorrow.”
“Will anyone be able to get here?”
“The roads should be cleared in the morning. It’s Maine.”
She makes a valid point. If it were Georgia, the roads would be closed for a few days. But here? Easy peasy. We’re used to this and we’re equipped to handle this.
“I have everything ordered. The ice sculptures are in the freezer. I can't afford to re-spend the money.” Her voice cracks with despair. As much as she’s putting on a brave face, she’s ready to hyperventilate.
I hug her to my chest. She's vulnerable, and it breaks my heart. She worked so hard, and it might all be ruined.
I smooth down her hair that has cascaded over her shoulders.“We'll figure it out. I have a convection oven and an oven. We can bake tonight. I’ll help.”
“Yes,” she chokes back tears. “Are you sure?”
“Of course! Let’s load up the supplies.”
Meanwhile, I've never mixed a cake or iced one. I don’t know how to use half of my appliances. The decorator insisted that I have everything to be a sous chef. But, I’ll figure out how to help. After all, Kenize is a pro so I'm in good hands. I help her load boxes of ingredients into my car, and we lock the shop.
“I hope we'll have electricity tomorrow,” she frets.
“Maine is prepared for this—every Mainer is,” I reply enthusiastically. I put my hand over hers and give her a reassuring squeeze. Her hands are warm and petite—the kind of hands that would comfort a child when they have a bad day. I give her a comforting grin.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
“It's not a problem. You need to learn to ask for help when you need it.”
“I can't.” She stares into the snowdrifts as I drive.
“Why?”
“I guess I'm not used to anyone helping me. I've confronted everything alone. It's safer to go it alone than to rely on others who always let me down.”
Her omission destroys me. I will pummel her parents if I ever meet them. I suppose at some point I must. I don't know how I would keep my cool knowing how they’ve treated her. It's a shame that she's never been able to rely on them.
Kenzie thinks she's Superwoman. And I suppose she is. Having grown up surrounded by caring parents who made sacrifices for me, I don't understand how parents can turn their backs on their children. Adults should help their children navigate life, not abandon them. I don't believe in rubber-stamping everything kids do, but becoming a great parent requires work. Parents need to oversee homework and show up for their kids' sports and dance events. Children need to be mentored and protected.
Damn. I knew she had it tough being sick, but to be ignored is unacceptable.
“I hope you are prepared for your kitchen to be destroyed,” Kenzie changes the subject.
“I don't care if it is. Nothing is more important than your event.”
I glance at Kenzie, and she's looking at her phone.
“The electric company should have the power restored tomorrow. It was a car crash that took out a pole.”
“That's a relief.”
“I hope everyone is okay.”
I can't believe her shop is on the line, and she's worried about strangers in a car accident.
“Cars are pretty safe today. In the sixties, not so much—today, it's a different world.”
I pull into the garage, and we carry supplies to my kitchen. Huge bags of sugar and flour overflow onto the dining room table.
We toss our coats and shoes in the mudroom. Her eyes observe my hockey equipment.
“I want to see you in a game,” she says.
“Nothing would make me happier. Let's get your opening under control, and we'll make that happen.”
This seems to make her happy and she smiles. I'd like to think I make her happy, but I'm not sure. Will she let me in? The walls she has erected around her heart loom like skyscrapers. I don't know if I can tear them down. I'm not Superman. I'm one person. Bo has the benefit of knowing Kenzie for most of her life. I've known her for two minutes.
“How about some holiday music?” I ask.
“Sure.”
I stream songs from the past decade because I know it will appeal to Kenzie. Tunes from the early 2000s stream over my phone to the surround sound system. I observe Kenzie in my kitchen and her presence makes my house a home. I’m no longer alone and I love having her here.
“Is Sherlock going to be okay?” I ask.
“I texted Bo. She'll take care of him.”
“She's a great friend.”
“The best.”
“Where did we put the baking sheets?” she asks, rummaging around the supplies.
“Here,” I say, retrieving a stack of cupcake and baker trays I had sat inside my mud room for convenience as we made multiple trips to my trunk.
“Okay. I need a mixer.”
I walk to a cupboard and pull out a KitchenAid. I'm grateful I spent hundreds of dollars on it, as it's worth every penny today.
“I think you'll break it in. I've never used it,” I say with embarrassment.
“It's in good hands,” she chuckles. I plug it in, and she sets about unpacking vanilla and eggs from an insulated shopping bag. She organizes the bags on the counter and begins to throw ingredients into the mixer.
“What can I do?” I ask. I hate the helpless feeling that consumes me.
“Please preheat the oven to 350 degrees.“
“I'm on it.” It's too easy. I'm not doing enough. “What else can I do?” It's suddenly important to me that I lighten her load.
“I'll give this to you in a minute. Can you pull out the cupcake molds?”
“Sure.” I do as I'm told and wait.
“Do you want me to make frosting?”
She turns to me. “Have you done that before?”
“No. But I can learn. I will prove to you that men can learn new tasks.“
“Really?” she teases me, but I can tell she's amused.
“Absolutely.” I have no idea if I can do it or not, but practice makes perfect.
“Okay. I'll measure the ingredients, and you can use eggbeaters to mix it. You cream the sugar, butter, and vanilla. When that's as smooth as a baby's butt, you add the milk and a pinch of salt.”
“Great.” I breathe a sigh of relief. She's relying on me to do this. I can't fail her. “What is a pinch of salt?”
She smiles mischievously and pinches my ass cheek.
“Hey,” I yelp. “What's that for?”
“That's a pinch,” she laughs.
I love seeing her carefree like this and for the moment, the storm has been forgotten.
I dip my hand into the flour and throw a pinch of it at her.
It hits her in the face, and she sputters.
“What are you doing?” But her face is alive, and her megawatt smile makes me hard.
She quickly reaches for the flour and rubs it over my face with her hand. For a brief instant, I wonder if I’m in over my head.
I laugh as I try to dodge her, but I underestimate her talent at hitting her mark. She tried again and nails my face. I cough, and white powder flies through the air. She uses her hand to wave the cloud away, but it's of no use. By the time the dust settles on the floor, I’ve pulled her into my arms. My lips ravage hers. I'm hard, and desire swells in my chest. I've never been so turned on. There's something about her—us—that's magical.