Beautifully Broken Control

by Catherine Cowles

  My muscles loosened even more. “Then you did the right thing.”

  “I hope so.”

  The same door swung open again. This time, a woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties emerged. She was curvy and wore an apron, her blonde hair up in a bun. “There you are. I was starting to worry you got kidnapped by a roving band of hooligans.” Her steps faltered as she took me in. “Well, hello, Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome. No wonder you’re late. I would be too if this was who I was with.”

  Kennedy laughed. “Anna, this is Cain. Cain, this is Anna. She really runs the show around here.”

  I extended a hand. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

  Anna began to fan herself exaggeratedly as she turned to Kennedy. “Where did you find him, and does he have a twin brother who wants to run away with me?”

  Kennedy shook her head but kept grinning. “You’re awful. Cain is a college friend of Walker’s and Tuck’s. He just bought a house here.”

  Anna turned back to me, eyes a bit more assessing now. “Hmmmm. And what’s your story, handsome? Why’d you move to Sutter Lake?”

  I liked her instantly, and not just for her easy compliments. It was her unhindered honesty. There was no pretense, no hidden agenda. Everything was right out in the open. “I needed a change of scenery.” That was true enough.

  “From where?” The inquisition was apparently on.

  “Portland.”

  Her gaze narrowed slightly. “You running from something?”

  “Maybe.”

  Anna’s eyes widened as though surprised by my honesty. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but Kennedy jumped in. “All right. I think that’s enough questioning for one day. Can we show him the ropes?”

  Anna’s hands went to her hips. “He as helpless as you in the kitchen?”

  Kennedy’s cheeks blushed the prettiest shade of pink I’d ever seen. “I have no idea.”

  Anna turned back to me, pinning me with her no-bullshit stare. “You know your ass from your elbow in the kitchen?”

  I chuckled. “Well, I hope I’m not using either in this kitchen.”

  Anna shook her head. “Too charming for your own good.”

  “I like it that way.” She scowled at me, and I held up a hand. “I can handle the basics.” I’d had no choice but to learn. When you were eight, and your mom was passed out drunk more often than not, you learned how to feed yourself.

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” Anna spun on her heel and headed for what I assumed was the kitchen. “Hurry up, you two. Time’s a-wasting.”

  Kennedy stifled a giggle. “Believe it or not, that was her warm welcome.”

  I chuckled as we followed in Anna’s wake. “I’d hate to see her cold one.”

  Kennedy pushed open a swinging door, the red of her hair catching in the lights as she glanced over her shoulder. “Just wait till you see her put the smackdown on someone.”

  “I heard that,” Anna called from the sink as she washed her hands.

  “I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

  Anna snapped the towel she’d been using to dry her hands in Kennedy’s direction. “You watch it, missy.”

  I chuckled low. There was something special about Anna and Kennedy’s relationship. And that tightness in my chest relaxed just a fraction at the knowledge that Kennedy had someone looking out for her here. “Tell me what I can do.”

  “Wash your hands first,” Anna instructed.

  I dipped my hands under the spray, alternating with Kennedy. She handed me the soap, her wet fingers brushing mine, reminding me of slick bodies and a whole different scenario. I pushed the thoughts from my head, soaping up my hands, rinsing, and then reaching for a towel. “Ready and reporting for duty, ma’am.”

  Anna pointed her spoon in my direction. “Now that’s the kind of attitude I can get behind.” She turned to Kennedy. “I think I should require everyone to call me ma’am.”

  Kennedy chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

  “No respect, I tell you. Come on, handsome. You’re gonna help me with the meatloaf, while Kenz works on the salad. Try not to cut off a finger, would you?”

  Kennedy groaned. “It was one time, and I didn’t even need stitches.”

  Anna shook her head as she led me farther into the space. “That girl is a walking disaster in the kitchen.”

  I glanced over to where Kennedy was now carefully slicing an onion. “Is she going to be okay?”

  The assessing stare was back. “You trying to get in her pants?”

  “What?” My head jerked.

  “You heard me, pretty boy.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Anna let out a snort. “Yeah, right. She’s gorgeous and has that delicate bird thing going on.” She pointed her spoon at me again. “Kenz doesn’t need some playboy messing with her head.”

  “I’m not—”

  Anna cut me off before I could finish my sentence. “Of course, you are. You’re hot. From the looks of it, you got money. There’s no way you aren’t used to getting exactly what you want.”

  She wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had turned me down, but it didn’t change the fact that I had no plans to pursue Kennedy. “She’s not for me.”

  Anna’s eyes flared. “She’s not?”

  “No. She’s not. We’re friends. That’s it.” We weren’t even friends. But I wanted us to be. She needed someone to look out for her. Deserved it.

  A delighted shriek filled the air, and I turned to see a girl who couldn’t be more than three or four leap into Kennedy’s outstretched arms. “Kennie!”

  “Lizzie girl. I missed you.” Kennedy nuzzled the little girl’s neck, blowing a raspberry there. The tightness in my chest was back, but this time, it was a vise. “What have you been up to today?”

  “Mom took me to pre-school, and then I’ve just been waiting for you. Can we have another ballet class? Can we?”

  Kennedy bent, gently setting the girl on her feet. “You know it, sister. Why don’t you show me how you’ve been practicing the positions while I finish up this salad?”

  Lizzie nodded, her face taking on a serious expression as she concentrated on contorting her legs into a series of movements. Kennedy praised and encouraged the whole time. If there was any correction, it was gentle and kind, always accompanied by praise when Lizzie got it right.

  “Not interested in her, my ass.” The words were uttered under Anna’s breath, but I heard them clear as day.

  I shook myself out of my Kennedy-induced stupor and turned back to Anna. “What can I do?”

  “You make a mean meatloaf.” Kennedy grinned up at me as I held the community center door open for her.

  “It happens to be one of my specialties.” There had been a burning sensation in my chest as I’d made the dish. Low and simmering as memories assaulted me. All the times I’d made it before. Who I made it for. But the second I’d seen little Lizzie take a bite and smile hugely, it had all been worth it.

  A hand brushed my arm, the contact oddly calming. “Are you okay?”

  “What?” I blinked away the cobwebs and met Kennedy’s concerned stare. “Sorry, just got lost in thought. All that meatloaf praise going to my head.”

  Kennedy dropped her hand and gave a light laugh, but it didn’t quite ring true. “Well, you did an amazing job. I know I kind of backed you into coming, and it was really nice of you to do so. And to write that check.”

  “I’m happy to help in any way I can.” My eyes bored into hers, urging her to hear that the promise was true for her, as well. She stayed silent. “I’d like to come back. Would that be okay?”

  Surprise flickered across Kennedy’s face. “Of course. When?”

  “When are you coming back?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  I twirled keys around my finger. “Then, tomorrow it is.”

  Kennedy’s fingers twisted in her bag’s strap again, an action I’d already learned meant that she was unsure about somethin
g. “You don’t have to. I don’t want to think I guilted you into something you don’t want to do just because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

  I reached out, my hand covering hers, stilling her movements. “You didn’t. You spoke your truth. I can only admire that.” I paused for a moment, unsure if I could share what I wanted to. “The truth is, you reminded me about some pretty important things.”

  I stared up at the community center. “I give a lot of money to organizations like this one, but I can’t tell you the last time I walked through one of their doors.” The truth of that hit like a punch to the gut. When I’d started to gain success with my company, I’d given money and time. I’d even made it a requirement for my employees to volunteer, gave them paid time to do it. But slowly, that had fallen away. The monetary donations grew, and the time spent disappeared.

  Kennedy squeezed my hand, bringing my attention back to her. “We all lose sight sometimes. Of what’s truly important. Of all the people around us who are suffering. That doesn’t mean we can’t recalibrate. Reset our compass so we’re facing the right direction again.”

  I cleared my throat and let go of Kennedy’s hand. “Where’s your car? I’ll walk you to it.”

  She inclined her head towards a bike rack with one lone ten-speed chained to its metal posts. “My wheels are right here.”

  My body locked. “You’re going to ride your bike home at eight o’clock at night?” Sure, the sky was still faintly light, but anything could happen to her. And if it did, no one would know until she didn’t show up for work the next day. My heart rate sped up, and my palms dampened, my mind running away with itself at all that could happen to her in those ten hours.

  “Cain, I ride my bike everywhere. It’s totally safe.”

  I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision of all the images that were assaulting me. “It’s not safe.”

  Kennedy grumbled something under her breath. “I see you’ve got the same overprotective streak as Tuck and Walker.”

  Tuck and Walker had nothing on me, but I didn’t tell her that. I simply walked over to her bike. “What’s the code?”

  Kennedy didn’t move. “Why?”

  “So I can unlock your chain, put your bike in the back of my SUV, and take you home.”

  “No.” She crossed her arms over her chest on the single word.

  “No?”

  “That’s right. No. It’s a two-letter word I’m sure you’re not used to hearing much, but one I say often. I’m absolutely fine riding my bike. I’ve been doing it for years.”

  I let out a long breath, trying to remain calm, to keep the demons at bay. When I looked up at her, I knew there was an air of desperation in my gaze. “Please.”

  She opened her mouth, then shut it again. “Why?”

  I swallowed. The movement felt like sandpaper rubbing against my throat. “I just need to know you’re safe.”

  Kennedy studied me for a moment. “Okay.”

  The air came out of my lungs in a whoosh. “Thank you.”

  She unlocked her bike, shaking her head the whole time. “I should sit in the back and make you be my chauffeur.”

  I chuckled. “You’re welcome to.” She could put me in a damn driving cap if she wanted. Whatever it took to make sure she got home safely.

  I loaded the bike into the back of my Range Rover, and we climbed in. The drive to the Kettle was mostly silent. I didn’t even turn on music, just rolled down the windows and let the cool air and the songs of the crickets calm my frayed nerves. It was all the ghosts burying Karen had brought up. That was why I was on edge. It had to be. With time and distance, things would ease, go back to normal. I just had to wait it out.

  I turned into the back alley behind the Kettle and pulled to a stop outside the back door. I hopped out before Kennedy could argue and grabbed her bike from the back. She took it quickly from me and rolled it over to a post where she chained it up. She shuffled her feet. “Thanks, uh, for the ride.”

  I chuckled. “You don’t have to thank me for a ride you didn’t want in the first place. Thanks for humoring me.”

  Kennedy grinned as she unlocked the door. A door that only had a simple deadbolt and a knob lock. “Well, as you can see, I’m safe from all bandits.”

  Our gazes locked, held. Some foreign energy crackling between us. “Stay that way.”

  “I will.”

  She would. I’d make sure of it.

  11

  Kennedy

  The water in the kettle was just starting to hum when the back door opened. “Morning,” Jensen called as she strode in. Her movements were automatic as she hung her purse on a hook, slipped her sunglasses into her bag, pulled on an apron, and headed for the sink to wash up.

  There was something comforting about the familiarity. The routine we both had. There was safety in the predictable. “Morning, J.”

  She dried her hands on a towel. “You got enough water there for two?”

  “Of course.” I poured the liquid over the loose-leaf tea in intricate strainers. Soon, the scent of the cherry blossom green tea filled my senses. I handed Jensen her mug. “Here you go.”

  She inhaled deeply. “You are an angel. Never leave me.”

  I chuckled. “You’re stuck with me.”

  “Thank God.” Jensen blew on her tea. “So, how did Cain do at Hope House?”

  My grip on the mug tightened ever so slightly. “He was great. Everyone loved him. Even Anna.”

  Jensen’s brows rose. “If he won over Anna, he must have been on his A-game.”

  “Well, he made a pretty delicious meatloaf.” There were a million questions I wanted to ask Jensen about Cain. So much about him didn’t add up. And then there was his minor freak-out at me riding my bike home. I would’ve fought him on it, but I’d seen the panic in his eyes. I swallowed a sip of tea. “What’s his story?”

  Jensen cupped a hand around her mug and was silent for a moment. “It’s not mine to tell. I’ll just say that he’s been through a lot and didn’t have the best home life growing up.” Something in my chest tightened. “You didn’t like him very much when you first met him, did you?”

  I set my mug down on the counter. God, I was the worst kind of snob. Judging someone for simply having money, not allowing their actions to speak for themselves. “I haven’t had the best experiences with people who have a lot of money.”

  Jensen studied me. “Whatever happened, I’m sorry.”

  That familiar burn of guilt along my sternum was back. I was hiding things from one of the kindest human beings I’d ever met. She didn’t deserve it, but I didn’t know how to tell her the truth. “I shouldn’t have judged Cain on the size of his wallet.”

  A wicked grin spread over Jensen’s face. “No, you should judge him on the size of his—”

  “Jensen!” We both dissolved into laughter. “What are we? Twelve?”

  She shrugged, wiping at tears that had gathered under her eyes. “Gotta find the laughter where you can.” Her expression grew a bit more serious. “I’m glad you’re giving him a second chance.”

  “Me, too.” A frisson of something I hadn’t felt in a long time slid through me. A light electrical pulse, a hum beneath my skin. I ignored it and got to work.

  The bell over the door jingled, and I looked up from wiping down a table. Gleaming dark hair, piercing dark blue eyes, and a t-shirt that fit way too well based on the slight uptick in my heart rate.

  “Hey, Kenz.”

  The sound of my nickname coming out of Cain’s mouth for the first time felt way too intimate, and his gentle smile might as well have kicked me in the stomach. “Hi.” The greeting came out as more of a squeak. I cleared my throat. “What are you doing here?”

  “I offered to put in a security system for Jensen.”

  My brows pulled together. Jensen hadn’t uttered a word about wanting an alarm to me. “Did something happen?”

  Cain shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I offered.”

 
; Pieces came together in my mind. Cain’s overprotectiveness last night. The way he had studied the locks on the door when he dropped me off. “Cain, that’s not necessary.”

  He shrugged. “It’s fun for me. And we can’t have you kidnapped by bandits.”

  There was a forced levity in his tone that I couldn’t quite understand, but I let him off the hook. Fresh starts and all that. “What do you need to get started?”

  The set of Cain’s shoulders seemed to ease a bit. “Just need to unlock the back door so I can grab my stuff out of my SUV.”

  I gestured towards the back door. “Help yourself.”

  Jensen appeared from the kitchen. “Oh, you’re here.” She crossed to us and wrapped Cain in a quick hug. He stiffened just a bit as though not used to the familiar gesture, but if Jensen noticed his hesitation, she didn’t show it. “I’ve been meaning to get an alarm in here forever. There just never seems to be the time.”

  “No problem. I’m happy to help.”

  J turned to me. “Can you hold down the fort for a bit? I want to walk through the building with Cain.”

  “Of course.” The lunch rush was over, and we were headed into wind-down time, so I doubted I’d be overrun with customers.

  They started towards the back door, but Jensen paused and turned back. “Oh, and is it okay if we go into the studio? I just want to show him all the windows up there.”

  “No” was on the tip of my tongue. It wasn’t like I had anything to hide, but there was something so personal about my space and the idea of Cain in it. I couldn’t explain it, but it was like I wasn’t ready. I gave my head a little shake. That was ridiculous. “Of course. Just make sure Chuck doesn’t pull a Houdini.”

  “Thanks. We’ll be careful and quick.”

  “Take your time.” I returned to my task. Slowly and methodically wiping down all the tables, refilling pitchers of honey and jars of sugar on each one, and trying to ignore the deep voice that occasionally filtered down from above.