Black Belt in Love (Powerhouse MA Book 3)

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Black Belt in Love (Powerhouse MA Book 3) Page 5

by Winter Travers


  And that is where I decided there was no way in hell that Roman was going to be her decoy.

  That job was going to be all mine.

  **********

  Chapter 8

  Kennedy

  “Rise and shine,” Karlton sang as he walked in the door of Zen. He was carrying two huge cups of coffee, and I could have kissed him right then and there.

  It was noon on Saturday, and my ass was dragging so badly. It had been a week and a half since Karlton had gone off on his decoy mission, and I hadn’t heard a peep from him. At least he showed up with coffee today. “Oh, my God, you are an angel.” I grabbed a cup from him and chugged half of it down, hoping the caffeine would kick in right away.

  “Well, hello to you too.”

  I had just finished my last class for the day and was about to pass out behind my desk when Karlton breezed in. “Hello, and thank you. You have no idea how badly I needed this.”

  He plopped down in one of the overstuffed chairs, and I collapsed in the other one. “Ask me.”

  I took another sip of my coffee. “Ask you what?”

  “If it’s really hard to be as amazing as I am.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m surprised you made it through the door with that big head.”

  He patted his hair and scoffed. “Puh-lease. You know my motto in life. If you don’t think you’re amazing, then no one else will think you are.”

  “Well, you’ve got that down pat,” I laughed.

  He wagged his finger at me. “I know I’ve got it, now you’ve got to get it.”

  I huffed and set down my cup on the small table next to me. “I’m all right, Karlton.”

  “And this, right here, is why you need to be thanking your lucky stars for me.”

  I ignored him. He didn’t need me to make his head any bigger. “Did you just bring me coffee, or was there more to your visit?”

  “I know you need coffee, and I thought I should give you an update on Operation Decoy.”

  “Is that what we’re calling this three-ring circus?”

  “For now. That’s the best name I’ve come up with so far. What about—”

  I held up my hand and cut him off. “How about you just tell me what you came in here for?”

  “You have a date. Tonight.”

  I gulped and felt the blood rush from my face. “A date?” What the hell did he mean? I needed one date, and that date wasn’t supposed to be for another three weeks.

  “Yes. A date. You know, those things you never do but should because they are fun. A date.” He flicked his wrist at me, annoyed.

  “I needed one date, Karlton. One. Numero uno. That’s it.”

  He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Sugar, how the hell are you going to walk into your mother’s house with a guy you just meet and act like you two are in love? You are going to have to go out with him a couple times so you can fake your way through this.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Not going to happen.”

  He sat back and crossed his legs. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but it’s happening because prince charming is going to be at your apartment at seven o’clock tonight.”

  “What?” I squawked. This man was whacked in the head. “I hear nothing from you for a week and then suddenly you come over and tell me I have a date. Tonight!”

  “Has it really been a week?” he muttered.

  “Yes. A week of nothing from you and then, bam!”

  “Well, whatever. I’ve been busy with work.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You go to the laundromat twice a day to collect change and make sure no one messed up the bathroom. Tell me how you didn’t have time to walk fifty feet over here and tell me about Roman.”

  Karlton scrunched up his nose. “Roman is out, sugar. I have a whole different hottie lined up for you.”

  My jaw dropped. “What? How? Don’t you think that should have been something you ran by me before you dropped Roman and brought in some other guy? I mean, come on, Karlton. I know that this is fun for you, but it is also my life.” I wasn’t pissed, but I was kind of annoyed.

  All right, I was a lot annoyed.

  “Turn that frown upside down and have a little faith in Uncle Karlton. I promise not to steer you wrong.”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I think comparing this to you driving is not the best analogy. Your driving is horrific, so now I can only assume that tonight is going to be a disaster.”

  “Pfft, girl, please. What else you have to do on a Saturday night?” He pointed his finger at me accusingly. “Don’t act like you suddenly got some active social life. I know you, Kennedy Kramer. All you had planned for tonight was take out and in bed by seven.”

  He was right. Damn him. I was only twenty-five and had the social calendar of a ninety-year-old. “That doesn’t mean I need to go out with some guy you hooked me up with because Roman said no.”

  “Roman didn’t say no.”

  “Huh?” If he didn’t say no, then why did Karlton pick another guy?

  “I got someone better. You won’t regret this one bit. I know he is going to be just the man who will win over your mother.”

  I cringed at the thought of the kind of man who would impress Vivian. “How old is he?” Old, crusty, and crotchety came to mind.

  “Old enough.”

  “Karlton, I’m not kidding around here. You need to tell me something about this guy.”

  He shot up out of his chair. “Calm your tits, sugar.”

  “What?”

  “Soothe your boobs?”

  I tilted my head and stood. “Huh?”

  “Adjust your bust before it combusts. Undo the calamity that is your mammaries.” He huffed and grabbed my hands, pulling me toe to toe with him. “Girl, you need to calm down. That’s what I am saying.”

  “The fact that you know so many different ways to say calm my tits is rather odd.”

  “Girl, I got two more. Wanna hear them?” I nodded dumbly because I honestly wanted to know what they were. “De-stress your breasts, and give that chest a rest. Oh! I forgot one. Hakuna your tatas.” He beamed at me proudly and squeezed my hands. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to use those.”

  “Tatas?”

  “Yes, sugar. Now, listen up. I’m not telling you anything. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Except that you need to be ready by seven and you better wear something besides yoga pants.”

  “You’re not even going to tell me what his name is?”

  He shook his head. “No. Now, I’ve shared my message, and now I need to run to the grocery store, and then I have plans tonight.”

  “Plans?” Lord, I hope those plans had nothing to do with me. I was done with Karlton plotting away.

  “Yes, sugar. Uncle Karlton needs a night out, and he found a new boy toy to hang out with.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek and flitted out the door before I could ask any questions.

  Somehow, he always shocked the hell out of me and ran away before I could tell him no. Well, I had told him no, but he had completely ignored me, and now I had some mystery man showing up at my house in less than seven hours.

  Crap.

  **********

  Chapter 9

  Dante

  “I’m hanging up.”

  “No, you are not.”

  I moved the phone from my ear and looked at it. What in the hell was Molly going on about? “Yes, I am. I’m going to be late if I sit in my car arguing with you.”

  “You can’t come into the café, do a cookie stick-up, and think you’re going to get away with it.”

  I turned off my car and unbuckled my seat belt. “Molly. I asked Sage for cookies. She said no. I tossed a twenty on the counter and grabbed four cookies from behind the case. A cookie stick-up implies that I stole them. I didn’t.”

  Molly huffed into the phone. “Dante. You can’t keep doing this. You need to keep your hands off my cookies when Sage is there.”

  I audibly choked. “Uh, doe
s that mean I can touch your cookies when Sage isn’t there?”

  “Yes, of course. My cookies are all yours then.”

  “Babe!” Kellan shouted in the background. “You know he’s not talking about the damn cookies you bake!”

  She gasped. “Dante! Stop being a dick! Stay away from my cookies…both kinds.”

  The line went dead, and I tossed my phone on the passenger seat. It was way too easy to mess with Molly.

  I was parked outside of Kennedy’s apartment.

  She had no idea I was the one who was picking her up.

  Kennedy was either going to be okay with this, or she was going to be pissed that I wasn’t Roman.

  I was hoping for the former.

  A quick glance in the rearview mirror assured me I didn’t look like a tool, and then I was out of the car. I strolled up the walkway and hit the button to buzz up to her apartment.

  “Hello?” She sounded like she was six thousand miles away and talking through a tin can.

  “It’s me,” I replied.

  “Me who?”

  “Your date.” I wasn’t about to tell her who I was. She was likely not to even let me up.

  There was a full minute of silence before a loud buzz erupted from the speaker and the door clicked.

  “And I’m in,” I muttered under my breath. I pulled open the door and moved toward the bank of elevators.

  Suddenly, my plan didn’t seem so good anymore, and I was wondering why the hell I had talked Karlton into letting me do this instead of Roman.

  The day after I had seen Kennedy at the grocery store, I was at the laundromat bright and early to see Karlton. The thing was, Karlton didn’t show up until noon. His eyes lit up when he saw me and he started chattering a mile a minute about sexy ninjas. The guy was a total trip.

  He had been wary when I finally got a word in telling him I wanted to be Kennedy’s decoy boyfriend. He immediately asked me why.

  I had stumbled over my words, not really sure why I wanted to do this, but it had come out that I thought she was pretty and I just wanted to help her.

  Yeah, that was me. Pretty and wanted to help. I was thirty-nine, folks, and I talked like a kid in grade school who had a crush.

  Thankfully, Karlton had thought it was a good idea, and here I was.

  The ride up to the fourth floor was quick, and I was standing in front of Kennedy’s door.

  I studied the small plaque with her apartment number on it.

  This was it.

  Time to find out if the strange feeling I had about her was right. Something deep inside my gut told me that Kennedy wasn’t like other girls I easily walked away from.

  She was sassy, a bit quiet, and beautiful. An odd combination that I wanted to get to know better.

  Let’s just hope she would give me the time of day.

  I raised my hand, knocked, and waited.

  **********

  Kennedy

  I knew how long it took to get from the door, up the elevator, and to my door. Forty seconds.

  For forty seconds, I freaked the hell out, then waited another thirty seconds before he rapped on the door and scared the crap out of me. I knew he was standing there, but I was still surprised when he knocked.

  Nope, I wasn’t nervous at all.

  I contemplated not answering. Maybe he would just give up and think I was not home. Then I remembered I buzzed him up and that wasn’t going to fly.

  “Kennedy?” he called through the door.

  “Yes?”

  “You think you can open the door?”

  Nope.

  Not really.

  Didn’t want to.

  “I can.” He didn’t ask me if I would open the door, he just asked if I could. I was reverting back to my eight-year-old self who had just learned the difference between asking if someone could or would.

  “Will you let me in, then?”

  Damn it all. I still had no idea who it was on the other side of the door. I thought it was unfair that he knew my name, but I had no idea who he was. “What happens if I don’t open the door?”

  “I guess I’ll go away, but then you’ll have to find someone else to be your decoy.”

  “So you know about my mother, then?” I had figured Karlton would tell whoever it was on the other side of the door about the situation, but I wanted to make sure.

  “Karlton gave me the gist of what’s going on. Are we going to have our whole date this way?”

  “For the time being, yes.” I was a chicken.

  “Uh, okay then.”

  “What’s your name?” It was only fair that he tells me.

  “I’ll answer any question but that one.”

  “What?” I squawked. “You know mine.”

  “I do.”

  A low growl rumbled from my lips. “Fine. How old are you?”

  “My birthday was last month.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Happy belated birthday. Now, how old did you turn on your birthday?”

  “I’m a young thirty-nine.”

  Huh. I didn’t expect him to say that. He sounded like he was in his twenties. “Do you know how old I am?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Do you want to know?”

  “It doesn’t really matter to me. If you want to tell me, you can.”

  Good answer. “You’re fourteen years older than I am.”

  “Okay. All that tells me is you’re good at math.”

  “You don’t care that I’m a lot younger than you are?”

  I heard his chuckle through the door. “Are you calling me old?”

  I hadn’t even seen the guy yet, and I’m pretty sure I just insulted him. “No. Just that well, I’m younger than you are.” Total face-palm moment. “Open mouth, insert foot, Kennedy,” I whispered to myself.

  “I’d much rather you open the door so you can insult me to my face.” His tone was light, and I could tell he was more amused than he was offended.

  “I think we are taking this way too fast.”

  “Uh, you don’t even know who I am or what I look like. I think that is the complete opposite of taking things too fast. We’re talking through a door, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Well, it was a good first date, I think. We don’t want to push things too far.” Panic was setting in. How could I be doing this thinking that it was actually going to fool my mom? Blind dates were obviously not my thing.

  “Kennedy. Just open the door. I promise if after you open the door that you don’t want to go out, I’ll leave.”

  “And I’ll never see you again?”

  “Well, I can’t exactly promise that.”

  So he was someone I knew. Who the hell could it be? Did Karlton get one of my yoga students? Which one could it be? Most of them were married or in relationships while the rest were too old to go out with me. “You said you were thirty-nine?”

  “Yeah.”

  Damn my curiosity and need to know who was on the other side of my door. I glanced in the peephole only to find his hand covering it. There went my idea of finding out who it was without actually opening the door. I couldn’t identify him by the sound of his voice, and he wasn’t giving me much else to go on to figure out who he was. “What happens after I open the door?”

  “Open the door and find out.”

  Grr. I could tell that I wasn’t going to get any other info from him.

  I flipped open the lock, threw the door open, and closed my eyes.

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “Yes, really. I’m too big of a chicken. You know too much about me, and it’s freaking me out.”

  “Then why don’t you open your eyes so we can talk and you can find out everything about me.”

  I liked his voice. There was a low timber and huskiness to it. “I open my eyes and you answer every question I have, and if I tell you to leave, then you leave, right?” Those were the only conditions that were going to get me to open my eyes.

  “Open your eyes, honey.”

>   Crap. Moment of truth.

  Wait, did he just call me honey? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Excluding the hundred and one things Karlton called me, the closest endearment someone has used was Ken. This was different.

  Yeah, honey sounded better than Ken or anything Karlton had ever called me.

  I took a deep breath and slowly cracked open one eye. He was tall, and all I could see was his neck and the collar of his polo shirt. Crap. I was going to have to open my eye further.

  His neck was nice, and I liked the color of his shirt. Cobalt blue.

  “Try opening both eyes.”

  I grunted and closed my eye. “I’ve seen enough. You’re good to go.”

  The door clicked shut.

  “Nope. Not happening. This is a nice place you have here.” He brushed past me, his hand touching my arm. “Since you refuse to open your eyes, I guess I’ll show myself around.”

  “What?” I squawked. “You can’t just walk around.”

  “Open your eyes and stop me,” he called from what sounded like the kitchen.

  I spun around, opened my eyes, and watched his retreating back heading down the hallway to my bedroom. “Hey,” I called.

  “You got your eyes open yet, honey?”

  “Yes, they’re open. Now stop right there.”

  I came up behind him and took stock of what was visible from the rear.

  Tall.

  Strong, muscled back.

  Salt and pepper hair.

  He had on dark gray shorts and a pair of Converse.

  I had to say that from behind, Karlton had done a pretty damn good job of finding a decoy. He had stopped midway down the hallway, and I was standing right behind him. “So what do you think so far? Do I pass the test?”

  He did, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “The jury is still out.”

  “Am I allowed to turn around, or would you rather talk to my back all night?”

  I sighed. “Just do it. Might as well get it over with.”

  “You sure do know how to make a guy feel good,” he laughed.

  He slowly started to turn and I closed my eyes again. Remember, I was a chicken.

  “Jesus. Not this again,” he grumbled.

 

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