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)
But Kate . . . She was one hell of a ripple. She’d always been, if he were honest.
Kate was the one who made him think twice, who challenged him. She didn’t do anything in half measures—she jumped into the deep end unabashed, always. Her confidence was alluring as hell, because it didn’t come from a new haircut or a master’s degree. It was a sureness in who she was, not just in her willingness to go all in but her determination to.
Until now.
Kennedy had known the moment he’d walked into Ian’s office on Monday that something was different with Kate. He’d been prepared for it. Nobody came out of the loss of a beloved parent unscathed, and her lack of response to his messages had warned him that she was struggling.
Seeing her had confirmed it. Outwardly, of course, she’d been the same Kate. Same outward confidence, same effortless competence. But her eyes were different.
Gone was the direct, ever-observant gaze of a woman who knew what she wanted and was always assessing the most effective way to get it. Instead, the Kate in Ian’s office had been guarded. Not quite withdrawn but cautious. Even her posture had been wary, as though braced for the next life blow.
It had killed him, even as he understood it. Just like he understood that she was trying her hardest to pull away from him before they had a chance to get started.
Kate loved her parents, but she’d worshipped their relationship. He was willing to bet that though she’d probably understood on a rational level that she’d eventually lose them, she’d likely never thought about what that meant for her vision of marriage.
Loving someone—all of the way loving them—might come with plenty of Disney-worthy feels, but it also came with a shit-ton of risk. Risk that they’d leave you, and you’d be incomplete when they did.
Ironically, just as Kennedy was starting to catch on to the appeal of those Disney bits, Kate saw the risks. It wasn’t ideal, to say the least, but Kennedy was ready for it.
He’d just have to show her that the risk was worth it. Hence, the ballet.
She inhaled the late spring air as they stepped out of the theatre. “That was . . . I don’t have words. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She looked up at him. “Did you like it?”
“I did.”
“Did you love it?” she pressed.
“I loved it.”
“Was it your favorite?”
He laughed. “So persistent. Okay, fine. Gun to my head, I slightly preferred The Sleeping Beauty from last year.”
“I was in The Sleeping Beauty when I was little,” she said. “I was the Fairy of Temperament, also known as Violente.”
“Sounds terrifying.”
“Yes, I’m sure my fourteen-year-old self in a tutu was immensely intimidating.”
“I think you at just about any age could be intimidating,” he said, glancing down. She looked slightly less tense than she’d had all week, which was exactly what he’d been hoping for when he’d dropped a rather large chunk of cash on front-row tickets opening weekend.
“You should know that I take that as a compliment.”
“You should know I meant it as one.” He offered his arm. “The restaurant’s just two blocks away. You good to walk in those shoes?”
“Sure. I’ve got you to keep me steady,” she said, hooking her arm in his and then patting his biceps affectionately, the way she might a brother.
Kennedy did not like that.
Baby steps, he reminded himself.
He had to coax the old Kate out slowly, to convince her that he was worth it. That they were.
And though she wasn’t ready to hear it, Kennedy had absolutely no intention of them being “just friends.” Friends first, yes. He was going to be the best damn friend she’d ever had.
And then he’d convince her he could be a hell of a lot more.
Kennedy was determined to keep his hands to himself tonight, but Kate was making it difficult. He’d always thought that the description of one’s eyes rolling back in one’s head was a weird exaggeration. But he witnessed it firsthand as Kate took a bite of her scallop dish and moaned.
Kennedy shifted in his chair.
“Oh my God,” she said when the initial wave of food ecstasy finally passed. “I don’t think I can survive another bite of this.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him, and he hoped like hell she couldn’t see the heat consuming his body just by watching her.
“Seriously,” she said, cutting off another piece of the luscious scallop and dragging it through the buttery sauce. “You have to try this.”
“I’m sure it’s delicious, but I’ll decline,” he said, cutting into his chicken.
“Oh right.” She set down her fork. “Shellfish. I forgot. I’m sorry.”
He glanced up with a smile. “Why are you sorry? You ordered what you wanted to eat; I ordered what I wanted. We’re good.”
“I know,” she said, picking up her fork. “I guess I’m just surprised that I didn’t remember when I ordered. Remembering details is sort of my jam.”