Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
"You're never going to grow out of being a brat, are you?"
"Nope." I plop down on the sofa beside him, huffing out a breath. "I'm worried, Kane. How am I supposed to explain a bodyguard at my shows? Or to the label? Or to anyone?" I just signed my first deal. I'm playing at a big charity event coming up. Having a bodyguard hanging around is going to bring up questions that I don't want to answer. I don't want people afraid to work with me…, and I'm seriously worried if they know the truth, they may think I'm more trouble than I'm worth right now.
I have a stalker. Or a creep. Or whatever you call someone who sends you unwanted and threatening gifts. Whoever he is, he's freaking me out. He's stressing me out. And I don't have time for either right now.
"No one has to know he's a bodyguard, Kenna," Kane says, tucking my head against his shoulder. "You can tell them he's your best friend, your boyfriend, your long-lost cousin. I don't fucking care what you tell them so long as he's there and I know you're safe."
"John will be there."
"Fuck John," Kane growls, making his feelings about my manager clear. Not that they weren't clear before now or anything. Kane hates my manager. I think he's hated him since I hired him a few months ago. My brother swears my manager wants to sleep with me. As I said, my brother is an overprotective, crazy person. "I wouldn't trust John with your safety if he was the last motherfucker on the planet."
"Well, I still think he should be here for this meeting."
"Too bad. He doesn't have a say in who we hire to protect you. His job is to manage your career. He has no say about anything else pertaining to you, your life, or how you choose to live it."
"He's been good for my career, Kane. You're going to have to learn to get along with him eventually," I say, shaking my head. "I have a record deal because of him."
"No. You have a record deal because of you." My brother cuts his eyes at me, his expression unyielding. "Your talent got you that deal. All John did was convince a suit to sit his ass in a chair and listen."
Kane has always been my biggest supporter. My entire life, he's been the first person to show up for me. And he's always done it, no questions asked. I love him so much for that. But he is so freaking stubborn! Once he makes up his mind about someone, there is no changing it. And as far as he's concerned, John is a weasel.
I'll never convince him otherwise. No one will. I give up trying and change the subject.
"How are the renovations going?" Our mom has been renovating her place since our dad died two years ago. She's never going to finish it. It keeps her mind off the fact that she's alone there now.
"I'm considering burning it down and buying her a new house."
"Kane!" I laugh loudly.
"You're laughing, but I'm serious. If she changes her mind one more goddamn time about what color she wants the living room…" he rumbles. "Agreeable Gray, Dove Tail, Lakeside Blue, Dirty Martini...Maya just talked her out of Iron Ore. It's fucking black, Kenna. Black!"
I bury my face in my hands, laughing. I'll never understand why paint doesn't have normal names. What color is Dove Tail? No one knows! But purple, green, blue, light blue, reddish-orange, we understand that.
He may complain about my mom changing her mind all the time, but we both know he'll paint the living room as many times as she wants to repaint it if that's what makes her happy. He's an amazing son, especially since our dad died. Renovating the house keeps Mom occupied and moving forward. Kane will tear it down to the foundation and rebuild it brick by brick if that's what she wants.
Thank God Maya talked her out of the black paint, though. We are not the Addams Family.
"I'm having goddamn nightmares about paintbrushes chasing me now," Kane grumbles. "They have mouths on their handles and scream the names of paint colors."
"Stop!" I cry, wiping tears from my cheeks as I laugh so hard I can't breathe.
Gideon Carmichael finds me red-faced and wheezing for breath while Kane grins, completely unapologetic. My laughter dies on my lips as I catch sight of the man Bryant Denver sent to protect me.
He is exactly what I expected and somehow nothing at all that I was prepared for. He towers over me, brawny and broad-shouldered, with captivating green eyes and short, dark hair. The edge of a tattoo licks up his collarbone, hinting at more art beneath the expensive black suit he wears so freaking well.