Black Belt in Love (Powerhouse MA Book 3)

by Winter Travers

  I hadn’t shot it down because I was sick of saying no and all I wanted to do was head home and not think about this disaster for the rest of the night. I was fine knowing that this wasn’t going to work at all. Karlton may have the best of intentions, but this was quickly becoming a crash and burn. “It’s been two days, barely, and just because I didn’t say no out loud about Roman, doesn’t mean I didn’t say it in my head.” Roman was definitely good looking, but you could also tell that he was a player with no intention of settling down.

  Karlton snapped his fingers at me and pursed his lips. “Shh, I’m telling the story.”

  Dante chuckled and kicked back in his chair. He raised his arms and crossed them on top of his head. “I’m listening.”

  “We need a man who is going to check off everything that Vivian thinks her daughter needs, all the while, he’s just a decoy allowing Kennedy to keep running the studio and living her boring little life the way she wants to,” Karlton explained.

  “Can I ask what kind of life her mother wants her to have?” I could tell he was interested in what was going on, and I was worried he going to somehow get in on the action.

  “The life most dream of, but the lovely Kennedy wants no part of it,” Karlton spoke like I was crazy for wanting a life where I worked hard instead of the one where everything was given to me. “So we must fool her mother before Kennedy spikes her after dinner cognac and ends up behind bars.” He leaned forward toward Dante. “She’s beautiful, but horizontal stripes are no one's friends,” he whispered.

  Molly cackled, and I rolled my eyes. It always came down to appearances with Karlton.

  Dante lowered his arms to his sides. “Well, y’all are crazy, and this shit isn’t going to work because I know that there is no way in hell that Roman is going to agree with this unless there is something in it for him.” Dante’s eyes scanned my body, indicating that the payment that would be needed would be something I wasn’t about to give up. “Besides, I don’t think you fit what he is looking for at the moment. He’s on a quest for the Holy Grail.”

  Molly tilted her head. “Holy Grail?”

  He chuckled and slid his sunglasses over his eyes. “Talk to Kellan about it, if he’ll even tell you.”

  “Quest?” Karlton clapped his hands together and bounced in his chair. “If it is anything like what I am helping Kennedy with, I am the man for the job. I could totally turn this into a lucrative business.”

  Dante stood up and shook his head. “You’ll have to talk to Roman about that when you bring up your decoy idea.” He sounded skeptical, and my head was screaming no even more than it was before. “Good luck with your mom, Kennedy.” He tipped his head to Molly and strutted back to his truck.

  After he pulled out of his parking spot and the brake lights of his truck disappeared, I reached over and smacked Karlton. “What in the hell was that? Do you really need to tell everyone my business?”

  He scoffed and brushed me off. “It’s not like I told him some huge state secret. I figured maybe he could help us convince Roman. Relax, sugar. That man isn’t going to tell anyone what I just said.”

  I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. There was no way Karlton could actually know that, but there wasn’t much I could do about it now. “Can you just refrain from telling everyone you meet my life story from now on? I’ve worked my ass off to distance myself from my parents, and all you keep doing is throwing me in their direction.”

  It should be easy to tell my parents to stay out of my business, but it wasn’t because at the end of the day, they were still my parents and I did want them to be proud of me.

  Molly put her arm around me and rested her head on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll talk to Kellan and see what he thinks of Roman getting involved with this.”

  Oh great, another person who was going to know how pathetic I was. “Thanks,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “Well,” Karlton stood up and grabbed his bag off of the table, “I need to get back to the laundromat, collect my money, and head home for a little me time. It’s been ages since I had a facial, and I think after my day of hooking you up, it’s only right that I pamper myself tonight.” He left with a flip of his wrist to us and strutted down the sidewalk.

  “You really want me to talk to Kellan about Roman? I could just tell Karlton that Roman isn’t down with it, and then maybe he’ll just let this go.”

  I turned to Molly and sighed. “I don’t want to do this, but I can’t help but see that maybe this will help. Maybe not forever, but it will keep my mom off of my back until I can figure something else out. Maybe moving to Alaska would chill her out.”

  Molly giggled. “Well, it probably won’t chill her out, but moving to Alaska will more than chill you.” She reached out and patted my arm. “Is she really that bad, or is she just being a mom?”

  I loved Molly. She was fun to hang out with, but she was also a bit on the shy and reserved side. Plus, she always saw what other people didn’t.

  My hands wrapped around my iced macchiato, and I leaned back in my chair. “My mother has the best of intentions, except what she intends to push me towards is nothing that I want.” I’d never talked openly about my mom to anyone before. All Karlton knew were the surface things that anyone could see from the outside looking in.

  “So what exactly does she want for you that you don’t?”

  “She wants me to be successful, get married, have kids, and be a stay at home mom who spends every waking minute worrying about what everyone thinks and giving off the impression that my life is fabulous while, in reality, I’m miserable.”

  “Well,” Molly drawled. “You are successful. Zen Yoga was rated the number one yoga studio in town.”

  I scoffed. “According to my mother, Zen is anything but what she wants me to do. When I say she wants me to be successful, I mean marrying some rich old guy and spending all of his money like it were my own.”

  Molly sighed. “Well, that doesn’t sound completely unappealing. Do you have to sleep with the old guy, or will he just give you his credit card and you’re good to go?”

  I laughed and shook my head. “With those dirty bastards, they’d probably never let me out of the bedroom.”

  Molly cringed and shook her head. “Well, I can see how that doesn’t really appeal to you. It’s nice to have money, but when it comes with creepy guys and unsavory things to do to keep it, I can see how you would be more content at Zen.”

  “Don’t even get my mother started on Zen. She still can’t believe I saved up and started it. She hates that place, but without her, it would never have happened. She always gave me a ridiculous allowance growing up. One that a kid would never be able to spend, so I saved a huge chunk of it and managed to buy Zen outright. When she found out, I swear she was going to have a heart attack.” I flitted my hand in my face and raised my voice, “My daughter should not be slithering all over the floor and working for a living.”

  Molly busted out laughing, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. My impersonation of my mom was really spot-on.

  “I didn’t know that there was slithering going on over there. I might have to try to get over there and see for myself.”

  I took a sip of my coffee and nodded. “Lots of slithering and breathing.”

  “Do you breathe like Powerhouse does, by screaming and grunting your ass off?”

  I smiled and shook my head. “That would be a negative. It’s rather quiet while we breathe. Grunting and screaming kind of ruins the mood.”

  “Hmm, maybe I might suggest to Kellan that he tries yoga so he can see the side of quiet breathing,” she laughed.

  “He’s more than welcome to come over, although I don’t think he would be one to enjoy it.”

  Molly hummed under her breath. “You’re probably right.” She stood up and grabbed the empty cups off of the table. “I need to go see what Sage is up to. Dante riles her up so much, it’s crazy. I’ll talk to Kellan tonight and see what he
has to say about Roman.”

  I rose from my chair and grabbed my wallet off the table. “Sounds like a plan. Who knows, maybe by tomorrow, Karlton will be over this and onto his next crazy idea.”

  “Maybe,” she laughed. “He does seem to have a bit of a scattered thought process.”

  “Most definitely,” I agreed.

  I crossed the parking lot over to my car and beeped open the locks. After Karlton and I meandered around the mall, I managed to make it back to the studio in time for my two o’clock class and then Karlton had summoned me again over to the café to have a pow-wow with Molly and Sage.

  It was more like Karlton going on and on about how he was the best matchmaker and how he could try to make this a business. We didn’t actually talk about me or his plan until two minutes before Dante drove by.

  Dante seemed skeptical of using Roman, and I couldn’t help but think the same thing. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t know any of the karate hotties very well, but Roman seemed to me to be the one who was a player. Not exactly boyfriend material to take home to Mother.

  I slid into my car, started it up, and groaned when I saw the time. It was already after four, and I still had to head to the grocery store to refill my fridge. It had been dangerously empty the past few days.

  Ketchup and pickles were not going to be enough to survive on.

  I steered the car towards Cook’s on East Street and turned up the radio. The nineties station was always on in my car, and I couldn’t help but jam out to all of the ridiculous pop songs they played. When the Backstreet Boys sang, you did what they said and rocked your body right.

  After bobbing along through three epic nineties classics, I pulled up to Cook’s and recognized Dante’s truck in the row in front of me.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  I felt like a complete loser knowing I was so pathetic that I couldn’t even get my own date. Debate time. Did I drive across town to the other grocery store or suck it up and pray that I was able to dodge him in the store.

  He was likely down the health food aisle, and while I was into yoga, I tended to head more towards the frozen section for bagels and pizza.

  Confession time. I ate like a college student going on a two-week junk food binge. I was luckily graced with good genes and managed to keep a relatively svelte figure without having to kill myself in the gym each day.

  The one thing that I gladly accepted from my mother.

  I grabbed my wallet and phone and marched into the grocery store. My eyes scanned the checkouts, making sure he wasn’t there, and I moved directly to the frozen food section by cutting down the baking aisle.

  I was halfway down the aisle and giving the wobbly wheel on my cart the stink eye. “Always pick the shitty one, Ken,” I grumbled under my breath.

  “Hey, you!” I heard shouted.

  I looked up and came face to face with Dante. Son of a bitch!

  My eyes darted around, wondering if I could make an escape.

  “Kennedy!” He was motoring his way toward me.

  There was no way I could turn away from him without looking like a complete bitch. He had actually said my name so I couldn’t play it off as I didn’t know he was talking to me.

  I came to a screeching halt, took a deep breath, and waited for him to get to me.

  Lord, help me.

  **********

  Chapter 7

  Dante

  She was like a beacon in the dead of night.

  I had been wandering around the damn store for twenty minutes trying to figure out what the hell I needed.

  I’m sure most people would wonder how the hell I got to the age of thirty-nine and had no idea how to cook. Well, I’m not really sure how it happened, but I’m sure it had something to do with the fact that I never lived alone until six months ago when I bought my house. I always had a roommate or was living in hotels with the guys.

  Growing up, my parents took care of all of the cooking. When I got on the circuit, we were eating out or had someone cooking for us. For thirty-nine years, I managed to never touch an oven or stove, and I had been fine with that until I realized I needed cookies and my supplier was stone-walling me.

  Kennedy stood there like a deer in the headlights. Her face had paled, and she looked like she was going to puke all over the floor. She still looked pretty, just a little queasy.

  “Kennedy,” I repeated.

  An odd, low grunt came from her lips.

  “You okay?” My feet had moved on their own accord toward her, and they didn’t stop ‘til my toes were inches away from the tips of her running shoes.

  “Err, I’m good,” she uttered.

  “You think maybe you could help me out? I’m a bit lost here.”

  She looked around, her eyes scanning the shelves. “In the baking aisle?”

  I looked to my left and saw sacks of flour and sugar. “Yeah, except I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

  She tilted her head, and she seemed to come out of her queasy stupor. “Then what are you doing here?”

  And that was where I was going to sound like a complete idiot. “I wanna make cookies, but I have no idea what to put them on.”

  She blinked slowly. “So you made the cookie dough, but you don’t know how to bake them?”

  “I didn’t make them. I bought them.”

  She looked me over and wrinkled her nose. “When did you buy them?”

  “Yesterday. From Molly. Well, Sage was involved, but you saw how her and I get along. She’s the whole reason why I’m stuck baking cookies.”

  She nodded, either understanding what I was going through or just agreeing with me to get the hell away from me.

  “You need a cookie sheet. Probably two depending on how many cookies you, um, well, bought.”

  “And where would I find this cookie sheet?”

  A smile spread across her lips, and I couldn’t tell if she thought I was crazy or if I was joking. She pointed to the left. “Right there.”

  I saw a bunch of pots, pans, and a bunch of other shit that I didn’t recognize. “You mind pointing exactly to what I need?”

  She looked behind her, then peeked around my shoulder. “Are Molly and Kellan going to pop out of somewhere and yell April Fool’s Day?”

  I shook my head. “Unfortunately, it is October and I really am this pathetic.”

  She turned to the shelves on the left of us and hunched down. “You need a cookie sheet. Flat and most have a bit of a lip. I have ones that don’t have the lip, and I hate them because then I had to go out and buy ones with a lip so now I have double the amount of cookie sheets I need when all I really use them for is fish and mozzarella sticks.”

  I bent down next to her and looked at the two pans she was pointing at. “They make cheese and fish mixed together in a stick? And why do you need a lip for that?”

  She grabbed two of the ones with the lip and stood. “Because I tend to bang the pan into the oven when I set it down and the sticks fall off. And, it’s not fish and cheese together. They are their own stick.”

  I looked up at her from my crouched position in front of the shelves. “So why don’t you just set the pan down a little gentler?” I stood and peered down at her.

  “Because, well, uh…” She pressed the pans into my hands and took a step back. “I guess because that just makes too much damn sense.”

  I chuckled and looked down at the pans. “So this is all I need?” I turned them over in my hand. “Rather simple.”

  Her laughter made me raise my eyes. She had a smile on her lips. “Making cookies is pretty simple. Especially when someone else has made the dough for you. Now all you need to do it turn on the oven, stick them in, then take them out after twelve minutes.”

  “Twelve?” She had just answered my next question.

  “Well, that’s about the average time it takes for cookies to bake.”

  “And, uh, what do I put the oven at? I hit bake, the numbers flash a couple of times, and then it goes ba
ck to the clock.” I was seriously thinking that the expensive ass stove that had come with my brand new house was fucking broken.

  A giggle erupted from her lips. “You need to set the temperature.”

  I tilted my head. “Come again? I want it to bake. Why the hell do I need to set a temperature? Bake means bake, right?”

  “Because the higher the temperature you set, the faster things bake. Or possibly burn.” She tapped her chin with her finger. “Make sure you stay away from the button that says broil.”

  And she had said that baking cookies were easy. “So how do I set the temperature, and what do I set it at?”

  “Three-fifty. I don’t know what your oven looks like, but you can always Google it to find out how to use it.” Her voice was light, and I could tell that she was trying not to laugh her ass off at me. “Can I ask a question?”

  “Hit me with it.” I already looked like an idiot. How much worse could it get?

  “Do you have working smoke detectors, because I’m pretty sure you’re going to need them.”

  I shook my head and tucked the pans under my arms. “Now you got jokes, huh?”

  She shrugged and moved to stand behind her cart. “If that’s all you need, now I need to motor on over to the frozen pizzas and bagels that are calling my name.”

  My stomach gave an audible growl at the mention of pizza. I was starving, but it was going to have to be takeout for me tonight because baking cookies were going to be about the only thing I was going to be cooking. One step at a time.

  I held up the pans. “Yep, I am good to go.”

  She slightly shook her head and gave me a small wave.

  I watched her walk away, trying to figure out why the hell I was racking my brain to think of something to say to get her to stay. “Um, Kennedy?”

  She looked over her shoulder at me. “This is a bit like déjà vu,” she replied.

  “I just wanted to say thank you.”

  A small smile spread across her lips. “You’re welcome. I’m always up for helping cookie-addicted men in the baking aisle.”