Stolen Kisses (The Barrington Billionaires #2)
Page 16
“I think I understand, Mom.”
Sophie opened the door. “Don’t go too easy on him.”
“Okay. Okay.”
Sophie nodded. “I’ll tell him to come up.”
“Mom,” Kenzi called out.
Her mother turned. “Yes, honey?”
“I feel like you see me now, really see me.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry—”
“No, please don’t. Don’t apologize. I’m trying to tell you that, beyond everything else, I’m grateful for this: you and me. This is what I’ve wanted for so long. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, honey.” Sophie smiled with tears in her eyes, then she left to get Asher.
Across town Dax was wishing he’d gone for a run instead of drinking. He felt trapped in his office, trapped in his own head. He’d taken out his cellphone countless times to call Kenzi then put it back on the arm of the chair.
He rested the half bottle of liquor on one knee and his empty glass on his other. He’d hoped a few shots would stop his thoughts from circling back to the moment he’d watched in horror as Kenzi’s head hit the tar of the driveway. She’d lain there motionless for what had felt like an eternity. He wasn’t a man who was used to feeling afraid, but fear had seared through him and left him shaken.
He couldn’t stop thinking about what Dale had said to him at the hospital. If I can’t love his daughter, I should leave now before she gets more attached.
Kenzi, I want to love you.
The door to his office opened. Clay strolled in and took the seat across from him. “You know what’s scarier than having someone like you for a boss? Watching someone like you get shitfaced alone in their office. Kate’s a wreck out there.”
“What I do is none of her business—or yours.”
He leaned forward and assessed Dax’s condition. “How drunk are you?”
“Not enough,” Dax growled.
Clay snatched the phone from beside Dax and slipped it into the breast pocket of his jacket. “You’ll thank me later.”
Dax groaned and laid his head back. “You’re a good friend, Clay. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, but you are.”
Clay removed the bottle and the glass from Dax’s hand. “You’ve had more than enough.”
Dax opened his eyes. “I’m a complete asshole. Why are you my friend?”
Clay made a pained face. “You won’t even remember this tomorrow. Why don’t I have Kate get us some coffee?”
Dax slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair. “I’m serious. Do I have one goddamned redeeming quality? Outside of knowing how to make money?”
Clay sat back and steepled his fingers in thought. “I never wonder what you’re thinking. There are a lot of fake people in the world, but you’re not one of them. If you say something you mean it.”
Dax narrowed his eyes at the blurry image of his friend across from him. “I never saw the need to lie.”
“I know. That’s part of what makes you you. You don’t give a shit what anyone thinks about you.” When Dax didn’t say anything, Clay leaned forward again. “Uh-oh. This is about Kenzi, isn’t it? No one else gets to you like she does.”
Dax rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I slept with her, Clay. And it was good. It was so fucking good. We—”
Clay laughed. “I’m positive you don’t want me to know this. So you finally fucked her. Why are you wallowing in Jack Daniels instead of doing it again?”
Dax groaned. “I met her family.”
“I did warn you that they wouldn’t like you.”
“They hate me.”
“I told you they would.”
“No, I mean they really fucking hate me. I thought we could keep it simple, but then she said she loved me, and her father wanted me to say something, and then I was holding her mother’s hand, and Kenzi was hurt.”
“You made a pass at Kenzi’s mother?” Clay’s eyebrows shot up.
As the alcohol seeped into his brain, Dax struggled to clarify. “No, Kenzi was bleeding. She jumped in front of her brother when he was coming for me. She hit her head.”
“Holy shit, is she okay?”
“I think so. Concussion? Some stitches. I left her with her family at the hospital. I was supposed to call her, but I didn’t. Her father told me to stay away if I can’t love her.” Dax pressed his lips together sadly. “I can’t love anyone. You know me. I’m an asshole.”
“I’m not sure you don’t love her.”
“What?”
“I’m no expert on love, but you’re miserable, and I’ve never seen you like this. You should at least consider the possibility.”
“Maybe. She has me thinking crazy things. Like I want to help the Hendersons keep their company. Dean is a fucking hero. He deserves to have something good come from this. What do you think of that? What if I helped someone keep something instead of helping them lose it?”
“I don’t really understand why Dean is a hero, but that’s definitely crazy.”
“I know, right? I mean, can you imagine what he’d say if I told him I’d invest in his company? And not so I could buy it out?”
“Easy, there, Dax. Did you drink anything besides the Jack?”
Dax heard the slur in his own words, but as he shared the idea he found he liked it. “Do you believe people can change?”
“Why don’t we talk about this when you’re sober?”
“I should have called Kenzi.”
“Call her tomorrow.”
“She’s waiting for my call now. What is she going to think if I don’t call her? That I don’t care that she was hurt?”
“Dax, you can’t call her drunk.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Really?”
Dax waved four fingers in front of his face. “I only had three . . . or six . . . maybe nine shots.”
Clay stood. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before anyone sees you like this.”
Dax slept part of the drive back to his place. Clay guided him inside and to the door of his bedroom. “Go to bed, friend. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
Dax walked over to his bed and dropped onto it face first. “I’m fine.”
Clay put Dax’s phone on his nightstand. “Call me if you need me, but the best thing you can do is just sleep this off.”
Dax rolled over onto his back. “When I’m with Kenzi, she’s my redeeming quality.”
Clay turned off the light. “Good talk. Night, Dax.”
Dax’s eyes closed briefly, and he imagined Kenzi. He remembered how she’d looked the first night he’d met her. He’d sensed a deep sadness in her. That memory morphed as images of them together flipped like a photo album in his head. He loved how she looked sitting across the table from him on a date. He loved how she looked in the morning, all rosy from a night of lovemaking. Her voice was the one he wanted to hear whenever his phone rang. She was the first person he wanted to see when he left work.
He reached for his cellphone and found her number then pressed call. Her phone went to messages. He groaned and said, “Kenzi, I hope you’re okay. I’m so miserable . . . Clay thinks this is love. Goodnight.”
He hung up, tossed his phone onto the floor and passed out.
Chapter Fifteen
Kenzi was dressed and dabbing her stitches with the medicine her doctor had sent home. Her cut was small and almost hadn’t required stitches, but since it would be covered by hair she had the option of shaving a larger area for a bandage to attach to or a smaller one and having it stitched then keeping it clean.
Her head was still a little sore, but the doctor had told her to expect that. He’d suggested she not take pain medication if she didn’t need to, and Kenzi was glad she hadn’t. She was already feeling emotional and tired without adding another layer to it.
Her talk with Asher had ended on a good note, but there had been some moments that Kenzi hadn’t been sure it would. Asher had come ready to apologize for hurting her. When
he’d realized it wasn’t her injury that she was upset about, he’d become defensive.
He’d tried to tell her that Dax played just above the letter of the law. “He is conscienceless. All he cares about is money. He’s a self-absorbed egotist.”
Kenzi had asked, “So how is he different than you?”
That had temporarily stumped Asher. He’d run a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m your brother. I can’t sit back and watch someone like him use you.”
Kenzi clasped her hands in front of her. “You might not like Dax, but I do. He’s been good to me—for me. He came here yesterday because he knew I was nervous about facing Mom after my story went public. When you hurt him, you hurt me.” Kenzi had cleared her throat. “If he ever does come around again, please remember that. You say you love me; well, prove it. You don’t have to care about everyone I do, but how would you feel if I insulted Emily?”
Asher had frowned. “It’s not the same thing at all.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Asher. It’s exactly the same. That’s how you hurt me tonight, not by pushing me to the ground.”
“Dax is . . .” Asher stopped and rubbed his chin. “Be careful, Kenzi. That’s all.”
“I will be.”
Asher had hugged her and said he’d check on her the next day. Kenzi had turned off her light and hugged a pillow to her, wishing it were Dax.
Now, as she applied the last of her makeup, she told herself to be strong. Dax would call her. Or he wouldn’t. She had to find a way to be okay with either outcome.
Kenzi picked her phone off the nightstand and checked it then swore when she saw that the battery had drained to zero. She plugged it in and waited, hating how desperately she wanted to see a text or voice message from Dax. She warned herself that there might not be one.
The phone turned on and the beep announcing a waiting message was the sweetest sound Kenzi had ever heard. She scrolled to her messages and held her breath when she saw that she had one from Dax.
She listened to the message once, then again. She picked up the house phone in her room and called Willa and Lexi. After assuring both of them she was fine, she asked them if they could listen to something and give their opinion.
“Is that Dax?” Willa asked.
“Of course that’s Dax,” Lexi said sarcastically. “Who else do you think it would be?”
“He sounds drunk,” Kenzi said, biting her bottom lip in indecision.
“Never drunk call anyone. Even Lexi knows that.”
Lexi parried back, “What does that mean, even I know that?”
Willa said, “Don’t get all sensitive, Lexi. This is about Kenzi.”
“Oh, we will circle back to this later,” Lexi said. “Can you play his message again?”
Kenzi did. “Did he just say he loves me?”
“It does sound that way,” Willa said slowly.
“He’s crazy about you,” Lexi said.
“No,” Willa corrected. “We don’t know that for sure. What does he say when he’s sober?”
“He says he doesn’t believe in love.”
Lexi snorted. “That’s what guys say when they’re falling hard.”
“Or that’s how he actually feels, and it was the alcohol talking. The last time you got drunk, Lexi, you kept hugging the pizza delivery man. All because he remembered the pepperonis. I had to peel you off him. Poor guy was devastated when he came back a week later and you didn’t even get off the couch.”
“No, he thought you were me, remember? That’s why I stopped thinking he was so cute.”
Kenzi sat on the edge of her bed. “Not to make this all about me, but could this be about me for a minute? Should I call him? What should I say?”
“He might not remember he called you,” Lexi said with a gleeful laugh. “I’ve done that.”
Ever the voice of reason, Willa said, “There are so many ways this could be awkward. What about calling him and just saying, ‘Hey, I saw that you called. Did you want something?’”
Lexi said, “How is that not awkward? If he remembers the call, he’s not proud of making it. If he doesn’t remember it, she looks like an ass.”
Kenzi brought a hand to her throbbing temple. “I don’t know if I feel better or worse now.”
Sophie walked in and sat beside her on the bed. “Is that the doctor?”
Kenzi shook her head and winced. “No, it’s Lexi and Willa.”
Sophie smiled. “Tell them I said hello.”
Willa said, “Ask your mom what she’d do.”
Even though Willa wasn’t on speakerphone her voice carried. Sophie tilted her head to one side. “What I’d do about what?”
Kenzi decided if she and her mother were going to stay close she needed to know what was going on. “Dax called me.” She played the message for Sophie.
Lexi said, “I’d pay a hundred dollars to see the expression on your mother’s face.”
Sophie chuckled. “I can hear you, dear.”
“Oh, sorry,” Lexi said and Willa laughed.
Kenzi placed the cellphone back on the nightstand. “I didn’t get the message until this morning. We were discussing if I should call him and if I do what I should say. What do you think, Mom?”
“I don’t think you’ve asked me about a boy since before—” Sophie stopped, looking horrified at what she’d almost said.
Kenzi hugged her. The past was losing its power to upset her. “Well, I’m asking now,” she said gently. “What do you think I should do?”
Sophie’s eyes misted up, and she took a moment to compose herself. “You should trust your heart, Kenzi. We’ve tried to protect you in the past, and we were wrong. You know Dax better than anyone. What do you think the message means?”
Still holding the house phone in one hand, Kenzi took her time responding. She let her mother’s question echo through her until an answer came to her. “Dax had a tough childhood. He told me about how he never knew his mother and how no one stayed in his life for long. I think he doesn’t want to need anyone because he doesn’t want to get hurt again.”
“That is so sad,” Willa and Lexi said in unison.
Sophie squeezed one of Kenzi’s hands. “So what will you do?”
Kenzi thought it over then said, “I’ll give him time to realize he can’t live without me. And when he comes back to me, I’m going to love him with all my heart. You taught me how to do that, Mom. You and Dad.”
Sophie wiped away a tear and kissed Kenzi’s cheek.
Kenzi’s heart was bursting with love for her family, her friends, and for Dax. Regardless of how hard it would be to wait, Kenzi was no longer afraid. Dax had helped her find her way home. If he let her, she’d do the same for him.
Dax leaned back in his office chair the next morning and closed his eyes. His head was pounding, and his stomach was churning. He’d tried to push himself through his email, but he wasn’t having the most productive morning.
What the hell was I thinking, drinking here last night? Thank God Clay took me home before I made a fool of myself in front of my staff.
Not that anyone would have the nerve to mention it if he did, but he still preferred his staff to fear him rather than mock him at the water cooler.
He wasn’t a big drinker so the shots had hit him hard. At least I didn’t throw up on anyone. Dax smiled at the memory of how Kenzi had done just that and left an impression on him and his shoes.
Kate knocked on the door and popped her head in. “Mr. Henderson is on hold on line one.”
“Which Henderson?”
“He didn’t say.”
Dax rubbed his forehead and reached for his phone. “I’ll take it.” Kate closed the door as she left. “Marshall here.”
“Marshall, it’s Dean Henderson. I received a phone call from Clay Landon this morning. He said you wanted to speak to me. I told him there was nothing I could imagine you could say that I’d want to hear, but he assured me there was. What do you fucking want, Marsh
all?”
“You’re going to lose Poly-Shyn.”
“That’s what this is about? I heard you’d changed your mind about trying for a buyout, but I didn’t believe it. Looks like I was right. Threaten all you’d like, Marshall, you won’t get Poly-Shyn.”
Dax took a deep breath. I’m going to kill you, Clay. “I’m not threatening you. I’m considering investing in your company.”
“Do you take me for a fool? I’ve seen your early-bird leveraged takeovers. We’re ready for you.”
“Pull your head out of your ass long enough to hear what I’m saying, Dean. I don’t want your fucking company, but I wasn’t the only one who was interested in it.” Dale’s words came back to him then: In life you’ll have friends and enemies; be wise enough to know the difference and treat each accordingly. No matter how grating Dax found him, Dean had silenced someone who could have made Kenzi’s life hell, and he’d kept Kenzi’s secret. He might be a cocky little shit, but he wasn’t an enemy. Now all Dax had to do was prove it to him. “I’ll send you over a proposal. Read it. What you decide after that is your choice, but I’d like to see you save your father’s company.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say I’m diversifying my business approach.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means I want to see if I am as good at saving a company as I am at dissolving one.”
Chapter Sixteen
A week later, Kenzi sat at the new desk she’d purchased for her apartment and opened her laptop. Her stitches were out, and she was feeling healthy and positive. She sifted through several requests from organizations looking for funding. She printed them out, placed them in folders, and stacked them on her desk. She and her mother had plans to spend the afternoon sorting through the requests and deciding how to move forward with helping as many as they could.
Kenzi had contacted the director she’d worked with at the high school and was relieved to hear that the girl she’d been concerned about was getting the resources she needed. Kenzi finally felt in control of her life and optimistic about her future.