“I love you, Kennedy Ashe.”
Then he took her, hard and fast, pinning her down with his body with a brute force that rocketed her to another orgasm in seconds. He emptied himself and she hung on tight, tears rolling down her cheeks as she shattered and broke open, never to remain the same again.
They lay quietly together for a while in the semidarkness. The scent of soap and sex and citrus drifted to her nostrils. She clung to him and wondered if she was strong enough to do what she needed to do.
“This isn’t about me, baby. It’s about you. I can chase you forever, promise you the world, but until you take the leap with me, I can’t win. I don’t just love your body. I love your incredible mind, and your sweet soul, and your inner strength. I love the life you built for yourself with your friends and your career. I love every part of you—good and bad—dark and light—and I want to share it all. But you have to let me.”
Her lashes were wet when she blinked, but Kennedy knew her answer.
“I can’t.” He stiffened underneath her. “I’m not trying to punish you, or hurt you. I don’t trust myself enough. I can’t promise it’ll work, or if I’ll be able to commit to a long-term relationship, or that I’ll do something terrible to free myself. I won’t do what your mother did. I won’t take that risk. Not with you. Not with your heart.”
He was silent. Their breathing rose and fell in the air. Slowly, he disengaged from her on the bed and stood up. She watched him get dressed with slow, methodical movements.
“I won’t play this game. I deserve happiness. So do you. But if you’ve already fated us for doom, we’ll never make it. I’d wait for you, but I’m afraid I may wait forever since you seem intent on not hurting me.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Which, ironically, you just did.”
He began walking out of the room. “You win. I’ll call Mary. Good-bye, Ken.”
He left.
She knew she’d done the right thing, the only thing. There were no guarantees, and she didn’t do Cinderella endings.
Never had.
Never would.
Kennedy buried her face into the pillow and cried.
sixteen
NATE SAT IN the red chair as Benny whipped around him in a frenzy of scissors. His goatee had already been moisturized and trimmed, brows were waxed, and he’d won a battle regarding his refusal to get a manicure.
As if.
He’d gotten in the habit of seeing Benny every two weeks to keep up maintenance. He also hated to admit they’d formed an odd, grumpy sort of friendship.
Kind of.
“I’ve been bored to tears this week and need gossip. How’s the dating?”
“Fine.”
A deep, suffering sigh. “Don’t be a mitch. Tell me details. Sex yet?”
“Not yet. We’ve gone out a few times. I like her. She’s nice to my brother. Things are perfect.”
“Liar. You’re still hot for your matchmaker.”
He jerked around. Benny slapped him back to face the mirror. “Do you wanna lose the wave? I almost cut it wrong, for God’s sake, stay still.”
“What do you know about Kennedy and me?”
The hairdresser snorted but looked gleeful of the reaction. “I suspected you were hot for each other that very first appointment. The last time you came in, you were all moody and asked casually if I had seen her lately. And when she came in the other day, she was a bitch on wheels. I mean, I told her to eat some damn carbs, but the woman is on a tear. Must be about you.”
The idea that she was suffering as much as he was both soothed and hurt. She hadn’t contacted him after that night. He’d received a call from Kate, letting him know she’d be arranging his matches from now on, and he took Mary out on a date that weekend. If only he could forget about Ken, he’d be happy.
Mary had a bit of fire, was smart as a whip, and was a witty conversationalist. He clicked much better with her than with Sue in the long run, and their dates were low pressure, getting to know each other. They’d kissed a few times but hadn’t pushed for more. The guilt killed him for not being completely open with her about his feelings, but he was intent on moving on. Even Connor approved of her, having joined them once for a drink at the tavern.
Nate hardened his voice. “Her choice. I spilled my guts and she let me go. Game over.”
Benny sighed. “Well, there goes my good mood. You’re making me feel pity. I hate that.”
“Yeah, when you get emotional you lose the British accent thing.”
“And now the pity is gone. You are such an annoyance.”
“And you’re really gay.”
Benny snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, but at least I have a lover waiting at home for me. Did you fight as hard as you could for her?”
“Yep.”
“Then you have nothing to regret. She’s the one who’s probably suffering more. I love that woman, but she has issues.”
Now it was Nate’s turn to laugh. “I know, but so do I. We’re a perfect pair.”
“Don’t fret. At least you look hot. Head right over to Sally and she’ll finish you right up.”
“I’m not getting my nails done, Benny. Don’t try to fool an aerospace engineer.”
Benny rolled his eyes and whipped off the cape. “Whatever. But if you ever have your big come-to-Jesus moment, you’ll end up regretting not having nice hands.”
“As. If.”
“Bye, mitch.”
Benny blew an air kiss and sashayed off. Nate grinned and went to pay at the cashier. Damned if that man didn’t make him feel better.
KENNEDY GLARED AT THE buzzing phone, then snapped it up. “What?”
A pause. “Umm, sweetie, can you come into the purple room, please?”
She let out an irritated breath. “Is it important? I’ve got a mixer mess on my hands.”
“Yes. It’s very important.”
“Be right there.” She replaced the receiver and pushed out of her chair. Damn interruptions. How was she supposed to increase her marriage goal and the marketing campaign for Kinnections if her mixers weren’t successful? Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked into the consultation room.
Arilyn and Kate faced her, perched comfortably on the plum cushions. The calming trickle of the water fountain pissed her off, but she tapped a foot and forced a calm smile. “What’s up?”
“Sit down, Ken.”
“No time. Listen, I think we need to dump the Purple Haze for our mixers. Tony gave me some junk about not including the good wine, and there is no way I’m forcing my high-end clients to settle for a carton that comes out of the refrigerator just to satisfy his mark-up arrangement and—is that chocolate?”