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)
He took a step closer. “I know. You take care of everyone. Everything. Who takes care of you?”
Her breath caught at the intense look in his eyes, but before she could process it, he stepped back, his expression reverting to unreadable.
“Cannon,” Kennedy called over his shoulder. “We’re heading out.”
“Wait, what?” Kate asked. She and Kennedy weren’t a we.
Were they?
Matt stuck his head out of the second bedroom door. “Sounds good. We’ll be right behind you once we convince Gabby that now is not the time to text her eighth-grade boyfriend telling him what a mistake he made.”
“Good luck with that,” Kennedy said, setting a hand on Kate’s back and nudging her gently toward the door.
“I know he let a good one get away,” they heard Sabrina say cajolingly from the bedroom. “But trust me, that message will be so much clearer if you take a selfie tomorrow instead of sending that one you just took. Better yet, wait until the day after tomorrow.”
Kate grabbed her purse and followed Kennedy into the hallway, but she turned toward him in the elevator lobby. “I’m not going home with you, you know.”
“Okay.”
“Just because we—Oh.” She broke off when she realized he hadn’t argued with her. She tried not to feel rejected. Or disappointed. “Okay.”
The elevator door opened with a ding, and Kate stepped toward it.
Kennedy grabbed her hand and pulled her back. His head dipped down to hers, taking her mouth in a sweet, surprising kiss.
She stiffened, well aware that Matt and Sabrina could walk into the hallway at any moment. Not that it mattered. There apparently were no secrets in this group.
“I missed you,” he whispered against her mouth.
Kate melted into him, kissing him back. I missed you, too.
And she had. She’d seen him just yesterday, but it had been at work, and now that she no longer worked for him directly, she didn’t have an excuse to pop into his office. Their contact had been limited to polite good mornings and stealing steamy looks across the office when nobody was looking. In other words, everything she’d once daydreamed about and yet . . . better.
But is it enough?
He pulled back slightly. “You tired?”
“No,” she admitted. She’d had a venti latte at four o’clock with the expectation of a late night.
“Come home with me.”
She let out a little laugh. “I could have sworn I just told you—”
“Not for that, pervert,” he said with a wink. “You owe me a rematch.”
“A . . . what?”
“Chess,” he said, pushing the elevator button again with his finger, holding her hand with the other. “I keep a board set up in my living room.”
“Of course you do,” she muttered.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her closer. “Unless you’ve had too many drinks. Worried your skills might be compromised?”
Kate’s eyes narrowed. “I’m mostly sober, but for the record, I could checkmate your ass even if I’d outdrank Lara and Gabby tonight.”
He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “Prove it.”
27
Saturday, May 25
Kate headed up the bishop she’d just captured and waggled it at Kennedy. “What’s it to be, Dawson?”
Kennedy stood, and her mouth went dry at the sight of his bare, tanned six-pack. He held her gaze as his hand went to his belt and paused.
She licked her lips.
Then he removed the belt. Just the belt. His pants stayed on.
He sat as he tossed it to the ground alongside his shoes, socks, and shirt. “Can I just say, strip chess is one of the better ideas I’ve ever had.”
“Says the man who’s losing.”
“Says the man who has more clothes to lose than you do,” Kennedy said, letting his gaze drop purposely to her bra-covered breasts.
Her nipples tightened in response, but Kate pretended to ignore them, and him, as she studied the board. It was true, though. She was winning the chess game, but he was winning on the naked front. Had she known her evening would take this turn when she was getting dressed, she’d have opted for something other than a dress. She’d have gone with pants. Socks. Cardigan. Camisole. Maybe two camisoles. Scarf. Parka.
“Your turn,” she said, pretending a bored tone.
Kennedy took his time, reaching for his whiskey and taking a sip. Studying her, studying the board. Finally reaching for a pawn. Pulling back at the last minute. He moved his queen, and she winced as he slowly, purposefully picked up her knight.
They’d agreed that captured pawns didn’t warrant a lost item of clothing—only the bigger players. Like the knight.
He slowly lifted his eyebrows in challenge, but he didn’t gloat. He didn’t have to. They both knew that after losing her strappy sandals and her dress, she had only two items of clothing left:
Bra. Panties.
She reached out and picked up his glass, taking a sip of his whiskey for courage. He’d seen all of her bits already. She knew that. But it was one thing to be naked in the heat of the moment, another to sit across a table from a man naked—or at least mostly naked.