When I pull to a stop near him, he moves to open the door for Kennedy. After she’s on her feet, he scrambles around to my side. I step out and hand him my keys along with a folded bill. He takes them with a silent nod and I reach for Kennedy. I put my hand on the small of her back and lead her to the retractable stairs. I feel her flinch at my touch, but she doesn’t move away. I suppress a smile. I know she still reacts to me. I don’t have to feel it beneath my fingertips to know it. But damn, how I want to.
As the attendant loads our bags from the trunk into the luggage compartment of the jet, Kennedy and I make our way into the main cabin area. Hemi, Sloane and Sig are already on board. I’m not surprised when Kennedy takes one of the empty chairs rather than sitting on the other empty couch. It’s the only way she can ensure that I don’t sit beside her. Close enough to touch. And that’s fine with me. The time is coming when she won’t be able to so easily avoid me. And, although I’m not a patient man, for this, I can wait. For her, I can wait. In fact, that might make the end result even sweeter.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Kennedy
I get situated in the plush, ivory-leather chair, setting my purse at my feet and crossing my legs before I glance around at my flight companions. From the corner of my eye, I see Reese sink into the thick cushions of a loveseat and throw one arm along the back. I make a point not to look directly at him. I’m discovering the less I can do that, the better off I am.
“Kennedy, this is Hemi, my brother, and his girlfriend, Sloane. The gentleman to the left is her brother, Sig.” I give each person he mentions a smile and I get one from each of them in return.
I finally get to meet Hemi. Although Reese talked about him some when we were kids, Hemi didn’t visit his uncle much and I never got to meet him. I would’ve remembered that because He. Is. Gorgeous. Just like his brother. There is no denying that they are related. They both have the same dark hair, the same skin tone, the same stunning smile, only Hemi’s eyes appear to be a different, darker shade of blue, like navy almost. One dark brow is pierced and I can see a tattoo of some sort peeking out from beneath the bottom edge of his t-shirt sleeve. He has bad boy written all over him, and it’s no wonder Sloane fell for him, especially when he turns his eyes back to her. They fairly glow with his adoration, something else I can easily see. Sloane is beautiful in a young, fresh way. And she obviously worships the ground Hemi walks on. I can’t help the little ribbon of jealousy that works its way through me. They have what every girl dreams of.
Until she gets her heart broken and realizes that, in the absence of that kind of true and perfect love, there is only devastation, on one end or the other. Having experienced that once is enough to deter me from ever looking for it again.
I turn my eyes and my smile to Sig. He’s extremely handsome as well, with his dark hair and chocolate eyes so much like his sister’s. Only he’s all man, hard where she is soft. Even sitting, I can see that he’s enormous. I’d guess when he stands that he’s at least six feet five inches of hard muscle and cute, sexy grin.
All in all, I feel old and ugly by comparison, which does nothing for my confidence or my mood. I can feel myself withdrawing almost immediately.
“Kennedy and I grew up together,” Reese tells the group.
“We won’t hold that against you, Kennedy,” Sig says with a flirtatious wink. He swivels his chair to face me more fully and raises one dark brow as his eyes flicker over me. “And will you be joining us on the boat?”
“I will. I’ll be working, though.”
“Doing what?”
“I guess I’ll be your…entertainment,” I explain, trying not to let that make me feel like the hired trash. Consciously, I lift my chin and keep my smile in place, reminding myself that I have nothing to be ashamed of. I dance for a living. At least I’m working toward my dream. Some of us just have to take the long, hard road. That’s all.
“Oh, really?” Sig asks, interest evident in his tone. “And just how will you be entertaining us?” The look of appreciation in his eye makes me feel less self-conscious, and his friendly, harmlessly flirtatious nature puts me right at ease. I like him instantly.
“I’m a dancer.”
Sig leans up, very openly interested now. “God, that Reese is a lucky bastard.”
“And why is that?”
“He gets all the hot women around here.”
“Oh, it’s not like that. We…uh…we’re just old friends. And I actually work for him in one of his clubs.”
“Which one?”
“Exotique.”
Sig’s mouth drops open a little bit. “Holy shit! You’re that hottie from the other night, aren’t you? With the shirt and the hat? Dayum, you were amazing!”
I can’t help but blush at his enthusiastic and appreciative response. “Thank you. But I won’t only be dancing. I’ll be doing some serving as well, from what I understand.”
I look to Reese for confirmation and am taken aback by the look of anger and irritation on his face.
“I haven’t decided exactly what you’ll be doing yet,” he says tightly.
After a short, tense silence, Sig speaks again and I look back at him, ignoring Reese and his fuming. “Well, if you have down time, maybe you could teach me a few moves. You know, some private instruction.”
The grin that Sig gives me makes his pick-up line more adorably charming than offensive, so I laugh. “I don’t give those kinds of dances.”
“Well, that’s a damn shame. But if you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to lend you my lap or help you with your costumes. You know, whatever you need. I’m a public servant at heart.”
His wide, voracious smile draws another laugh from me. “I get the impression that you’re quite incorrigible.”
“If that’s code for strong, protective, and handsome as hell, then you couldn’t be more right.”
And so it goes with Sig. He has an answer for everything and a totally charming way of turning all my comments into sexual innuendos, which is both flattering and entertaining.
He stimulates my laugh more than anyone or anything has in years. Enjoying his company and his audacious flirting is easy as pie, especially considering how virtually any interaction with Reese keeps me torn up in one way or another. It’s no hardship on my part to let Sig dominate my time and attention during the flight to the west coast.