She bolted out of the restaurant. Arilyn gave a half wave and followed her out.
“Weird,” Kennedy said. “Must be all those wedding plans. Makes a woman a little crazy.”
“I bet.”
They stared at each other. The faint sounds of glasses clinking and people chattering drifted to her ears. Waves of heat radiated around them and tried to pull her in. “You did good.”
“You owe me dinner.”
Her heart stopped, then pounded so loud it echoed in her ears. “No, Wanda owed you dinner. It was role-play.”
“You knew Newton’s Third Law of Motion.”
Annoyance flickered through her. “Who cares? Every student learns that in high school. Big deal, I remembered.”
“You lie about yourself, Kennedy. Pretend to be someone you’re not because you think it’s easier. You think it’ll protect you.”
Annoyance broadened into pure temper. “Ah, so you’re an expert on me now, huh? Just because you’re my client doesn’t mean you have any right to know about me on a personal level. Back off. My job is to find you love and I intend to do it.”
“What if you already did?”
His question blew through her defenses and shattered rock and brick and stone. Kennedy couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk, and for the first time in her life, felt on the verge of a panic attack. She shook her head and denied his words. “Don’t. You’ll only end up hurting yourself. Do you understand?”
Frustration simmered in his eyes, on his face. He seemed to choose his words carefully, as if he had reached a turning point and made a rational decision to take a leap. “What if I believe in the risk? What if I think she’s worth it?”
The panic slowly drained away and was replaced by a bitter realization and sadness she didn’t want to deal with. Hell, she had no idea how to deal with it. In some bizarre way, Nate had worked his way past her walls and reached a part of her she’d never realized she had. But she knew it was an illusion. She’d made a promise to find him happiness, and it wasn’t with her. Nate deserved a like-minded woman to settle down with, have babies with, and grow old with. Someone with no screwed-up issues. She shone on the surface, was broken on the inside, and could never give Nate the depth he needed. Her punishment in this life was the constant craving to move on, searching for something that wasn’t even out there, a peace and stability with the one man she never seemed to find. No, she wasn’t good for him, and she needed to protect him from a temporary weakness of attraction and sex.
Her heart hardened. She made sure she spoke in a cold, firm voice. “She’s not, Nate. And she never will be. Not with you.”
He jerked back only once. Stiffened his shoulders. And nodded. “Got it.” He disguised the hurt, but she knew her comment hit home and pierced deep. “What’s next?”
“Saturday. Mall. Meet you at ten?”
She wished his gaze didn’t burn, disrobe, and try to expose her for the fake she was. Kennedy made sure she kept the bright smile pasted to her face. A heavy silence pulsed between them with unspoken words. “Fine.” Then he left without another word.
Kennedy squeezed her arms around her chest for warmth and reminded herself she had done the right thing for both of them.
nine
I HATE MALLS.”
Kennedy glanced over. Nate was definitely grouchy. Why were men never pumped to get new clothes and a sizzling look? Maybe it was some type of gene the male population lacked. She felt truly sorry for them all. “Cheer up. We have a game plan, and I’m not dragging you in and out of a million stores. We need to hit the eye place first.”
She walked with purpose into the vision center and spoke to the woman at the front desk. “Dr. Murphy is just running a little late. Can you take a seat?”
“Sure.” She led Nate to the waiting area, but he didn’t sit. Just paced back and forth. “Geez, a bit over the caffeine limit today?”
“I don’t like eye doctors.”
She laughed, then realized he was dead serious. A panicked gleam lit his eyes, barely visible from behind his thick frames. “She’s not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure she fits the contact lenses correctly.”
“No contacts.”
She studied him. The stubble sculpted his jaw and lined his upper lip, giving him an edge. His brows were now perfectly separated, and the slight wave in his hair set off the hint of blond, warming his skin. But her pièce de résistance would be the glasses, and she needed to address his concerns. “Why not?”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t like them.”
She remained patient. “Why?”
He leaned in and hissed out the words. “I don’t like anything in my eye, okay? I am not sticking my finger at my eyeball. Forget it. Let’s just get out of here.”
She bit back her smile. “I hear you. Everyone has something—mine happens to be the GYN. I see stirrups and shudder.”
“TMI, Ken.”
She laughed. “Sorry. Look, just go through the exam and we’ll talk. I don’t want to make you do something you hate, but the types they have nowadays are really different. Will you promise to try? If you hate it, we’ll get you new frames and forget it.”
He let out an aggravated breath. “Fine. But I won’t like it.”
“Nate Dunkle?”
He shot her a glare and followed the doctor into her office. The exam was short, and they were set up at the counter to try some contacts. A pretty woman in a white coat lined up some supplies. Her eyes were a startling blue green that contrasted dramatically with her black hair. She introduced herself as Tracey and went into her spiel about the way to wear contacts, the kind the doctor recommended, and how to maneuver them.
“What are the statistics on eye damage from contact lenses?” Nate asked.
“Umm, I’m not sure, but as long as you follow the instructions for care, it’s pretty low.”
“How low?”
Kennedy slid her hand over the counter and squeezed his hand. Hard. “Nate, most of the population wears them. Give it a try.”
Tracey seemed to sense his fear and smiled brightly. “You’ll look amazing. Your current frames are a bit outdated.”
“How many instances have occurred with the lenses scratching a person’s cornea and causing blindness?”
Tracey blinked. “Umm, I’m sure I can find out for you if I Google it.”