Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
It worked. Every damn time, Kennedy and his brothers were sure they hadn’t wanted to talk about it, right up until the moment it all came spilling out. But Kennedy wasn’t fifteen any longer, and he knew that talking about problems didn’t necessarily solve them.
He stayed quiet, and his father changed tack. “No Claudia tonight?”
“We broke up.” Kennedy reached to his left to put his empty glass on a table.
His dad nodded. “Yeah.”
Kennedy let out a laugh. “You could at least pretend to be surprised.”
Roger shrugged. “It was nice of her to throw you that birthday party.”
“But?”
“Well . . .” His dad took a drink. “The party seemed a bit more about her than you.”
“Probably. I’m not sure either of us was in the relationship for the right reasons.”
“Why were you in it?”
Kennedy looked over his shoulder at the hundreds of people laughing and drinking on the yacht deck. “You know this is your party, right? You don’t have to play dad right now.”
“You never play dad. You are dad. And right now, this father wants to know what’s got his oldest son brooding alone.”
“I’m always brooding.” Always alone, too.
It was a weird thought. He wasn’t always alone, not technically. He had a great family, loyal friends. He dated when he felt like it. But whether it was from the reality of another birthday or the fact that his two closest friends and youngest brother had found women who seemed to make up their other half, Kennedy was increasingly aware that he wasn’t part of a couple. And while he’d never minded solitude, this was different.
“You said you were in the relationship with Claudia for the wrong reason. What was it? The companionship?”
Kennedy gave a wry smile, because his father may as well have read his mind. “Maybe. More so, I think, that Claudia seemed like the type of woman I always thought I’d end up with.”
“She was beautiful,” Roger granted.
“Yes. But it was more than that,” Kennedy said, glancing at the water. “Mom set us up. The Palmers live in Europe now, but Claudia grew up just a few blocks north of us. They went to our church, though a different service. She knows all of the same people we do.”
“And that’s what you wanted? Someone from our social circle?”
“I don’t know. It seemed right on paper.”
“But didn’t feel right?”
Kennedy shook his head.
His father casually turned around, leaning his elbows on the railing as he faced the crowd. “This got anything to do with Jack?”
Kennedy gave his father a sharp look. “What about Jack?”
“You tell me. You’re always quiet, yes, but you’ve been even more reticent than usual since your brother moved back from Europe. Since he took up with your girl.”
“Kate’s not my girl,” Kennedy said, turning around so he, too, could lean back against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest.
“She sure cleans up nice, though. I always liked her.”
Kennedy forced himself to follow his father’s gaze, and though he thought he was braced for it, the sight of Kate and Jack together still packed a wallop in the vicinity of his throat.
Again with the pink.
What was with Kate lately? It was as though she’d gone out and bought a whole arsenal of pink dresses just for Jack, and also to torture Kennedy. He didn’t even like pink. Well, that’s not true. He’d never given a thought one way or the other to the color . . . until now.
The pink dress she’d worn at his birthday party had been flirty and feminine. The one on their double date had been fun and casual. But this . . .
Kennedy’s gaze drifted over her, and he swallowed. The front of the rose-colored dress was demure, tying at her neck and then skimming over her frame with only a hint at the slight curves below, all of the way down to silver sandals.
When he’d first walked in and seen her, he thought he could manage the evening without staring. Maybe. But when she’d turned around and he’d seen the back, he was a goner. She’d pulled her hair up into a simple knot at the back of her head, no doubt styled intentionally to show off the large bow tied behind her elegant neck, showing off her slender back. All of it.
Kate said something to Jack, who bent his much taller frame to hers, his hand coming around to rest lightly on the smooth skin that had been demanding Kennedy’s attention all night. Skin that was not his to touch. That had never been his. But could have been . . .
He turned back abruptly toward the water, away from his brother and Kate, as well as his own thoughts. Or tried to, anyway.
As usual, Kennedy’s father missed nothing. “Does she know?”
Kennedy didn’t play dumb. “No.”
“Does Jack?”
Kennedy shook his head. “I didn’t even know until a few days ago.”