It’s the woman I hoped for, but not the text.
Kenlyn: I’ve got a huge project in the morning. I’m passing on your dinner offer.
I groan, dropping back onto the bed and scrub my hands over my face. She’s so damn stubborn.
Me: I’ll have you back before nine.
Kenlyn: Sorry.
Me: Lunch?
Kenlyn: I’m busy.
If I was in front of her, I could change her mind. Whenever I get close to her, her mind shuts down and her body takes over. I enjoy knowing I create havoc with her thoughts and stall them out at the same time. She does the same shit to me.
Time for another tactic. I head to the bathroom to shower and then get ready. If she won’t meet me for lunch, I’ll go to her stubborn ass. It makes me wonder what the hell has happened to her to build such impenetrable walls and stay on guard.
Cody’s on the couch, hoodie over his head and phone in his hands. “Care if I crash here for a few days?”
Of course not.
“You know the rules. Clean up after yourself and take out the trash.”
He nods, eyes still never meeting mine. “I’ve got to work, but I’ll be at the meets though.”
“You need a ride?”
I get a rare sighting. A boyish and very mischievous smile dons on his face. His brown eyes flash to mine. “You gonna let me drive the motorcycle?”
I bark out a laugh. “Don’t press your luck, kid.” He chuckles under his breath, switching his gaze back to his hands. “You keep working hard like you have been and you’ll be able to buy a car soon.” I jut my chin toward the hall. “Use the washer and dryer if you need to. I may be late coming in.”
He nods again, falling back silent.
I have absolutely no damn idea what the hell I’m going to do or how I’m going to find her apartment. I could be here for hours if I wait outside. Or I could call my inside woman—Lucia. She’ll help me out. As I pull my phone out of my pocket and thumb for Lucia’s number, the sense of something—no clue what—compels me to look up.
Kenlyn.
She’s lost in thought, head angled down as she watches where she walks. Her caramel brown hair is in a ponytail, pulled low to the side allowing tendrils to spill over her shoulder. But what looks even better than the silky strands? The fact that her outfit is like our tastes have been mashed together—white button-down blouse and jeans with holes on the knees. She doesn’t seem the type to wear ripped jeans and that makes her more mouthwatering.
Her amber eyes flick up to me and for a split second they light up until a scowl takes over her features. “I’m finding that every time I see you, I ask the same question. What are you doing here?”
“Not giving you a reason to back out. I’m taking to you to lunch so I can get you back in time for you to focus on your pretend project.”
I expected some guarded smart-ass remark. Instead, she bites the inside of her cheek to conceal the tic on the edges of her mouth.
I dip my head. “Is that… Is that a smile?”
Letting go of the hold, her grin lights up her entire presence. “You’re incredibly pushy. You know that?”
My smile is automatic. “And you’re incredibly stubborn.”
The fight in her gaze relents.
“I ate already. So I’m not hungry.”
Even though it’s in her hand, I offer it anyway. “Coffee then?”
She looks to the cup in her hand. I’m already racking my brain for a different angle—ice cream, a walk, pet some puppies—when she meets my gaze and smiles. “Sure.”
Hell yes.
One of the best coffee shops in the city is several blocks away. We fall into step beside each other, and when she drops her coffee into the first trashcan we pass, relief allows me to take a decent breath. Hopefully that’s her sign that she’ll quit fighting me tooth and nail.
“Why didn’t you come back with Lucia the other day? I was looking for you.” Figured I’d keep it simple and not call her out on her bluff about work.
“Tattoos are her thing. Not mine.” She shoots me an unapologetic glance.
“Virgin skin…” I murmur.
“That excites you, huh?”
“Who doesn’t have tattoos anymore? Hell yes it excites me. You should let me—”
“Nope.” Her interjection slices my words. “I most definitely will not be getting a tattoo. I’ll embarrass myself with a low pain threshold.”
“The fear of the unknown is the scariest part. Also where you get it determines the pain level. You might surprise yourself.”
“You think so? Coming in with Lucia and just hearing the buzz threatened a panic attack. I wanted to claw your eyes out and rip my skin off before we got out of there.”
I laugh. My calm is her panic. Go figure. “Music.” And then I spin around to walk backward while facing her. “Grab earbuds, pop them in, and jam out so you don’t have to hear it.”
Her sexy lips purse. Fuck. She’s gorgeous when she’s not being uptight. “I’d still feel the pain.”
“Nah. I’d take care of you.”
Her eyes roll. “Okay, Mr. No Pain. You’re saying none of your tattoos hurt?”
“My side piece.” I’m quick to fire off and spin back around. “It wasn’t intolerable though.” I pull open the door to the coffee shop and the fragrances—spicy, woody, nutty—envelope us.
We get in line. “I’m positive your ‘not intolerable’ would have me crying.”
“I bet you’d be surprised at yourself.”
“Delia said you all would get a hard-on because I have virgin skin. I didn’t believe her at first, but the excitement in your eyes is changing my mind.”
Her words linger in the air between us. I ponder the best way for her to understand my excitement.
“How do you feel when you start a project? When nothing has been decided. Your page is blank, and you have free rein in the direction you want to take. Anything you want. All your tools are waiting at the tips of your fingers. You know you have a chance to outshine the competition, to prove your branding-worth. All these ideas bounce around your skull. That passion and exhilaration you experience is the same for me when I have a blank canvas.”
An explosion of appreciation and excitement bursts in her eyes. This look is by far my favorite.
“What I do can’t be considered sadistic.” There’s a playful edge to her tone and a smile ghosting her lips.
I laugh as we scoot up to the counter. We place our orders and once we get them, head to the lone booth lined on the side.
“Tell me about Kenlyn,” I say over my cup.
She blows on her coffee and then takes a sip. “Like what?”
“Anything.”
With the tips of her fingers, she twists her cup on the table a few times. Lost in thought, she debates what she wants to share with me. “I’ve got a little brother who is actually bigger than me and smart as ever. He’s up in Mass at MIT working on a bachelor’s degree in civil engineering. I’ve also got a beautiful little sister, Amanda. Her, my dad, and my stepmom live in PA where I’m from.” Her lips quirk up. “Tit for tat. Your turn.”