"She would break your heart!"
"How do you know? Because she's beautiful? Because she'd leave me for someone better one day, like Mom did? You both drive me crazy! There's no guarantees here. Bottom line is you have to be willing to go for it. Kennedy couldn't. I hope one day she does, because I think I'll love that woman till the day I die. But you? You still have a shot. Get your head out of your ass and do something with your life."
Rage poured from his brother's figure. Connor grabbed him by his shirt, dragged him off the couch, and shook him like a dog showing dominance. "Fuck you! I tried and didn't get that supervisor job. I'm not a college-educated brilliant scientist, and I never will be. This is all I got!"
Nate shoved him away and fisted his hands. "Fuck you! Who said this is all you got? Mom? Dad? Me? You? Decide what you want, and you go after it. If getting a supervisor position means a college degree, go back to school."
Connor pushed him back, and got in his face. Spittle flew from his mouth as he growled, "Fuck you! I don't have the money."
Nate took the first punch. A nice, clean arc connecting with his brother's jaw. "Fuck you! You sacrificed and put me through school and raised me. You don't think I'd pay for your education and anything else you need? Why can't I finally give something back to you?"
Connor held his jaw, lowered his body, and sicced him with a powerful uppercut that snapped his head back. Little birdies began to fly, and then the world steadied. "Fuck you! I'm not smart enough to go to college."
Nate bent low and head butted him in the stomach. His brother gasped for air and fell back. "Fuck you! You've always been smart, but you never had the chance to show it. You're a natural at management, and a business degree would give you everything you want. Pussy!"
His brother straightened and stepped in the ring. "Who you calling a pussy?"
They stopped talking and started punching. Nate used everything he was taught and added some new moves, but Connor was the master and blocked most of the serious jabs. Finally, they both fell back on the floor, panting for breath, adrenaline pumping and filling up the room.
It was beautiful.
His muscles let go, and he laid his head back on the floor, catching up on his oxygen and staring at the ceiling. He sensed his brother was doing the same. After a while, Connor's voice drifted up. "Would you really put me through college?"
"Yeah."
A pause. "You think I could do it?"
"I know you could."
"The guys use this local community college that gives discounted rates. I could still work, go to class at night, and take the accelerated weekend ones to finish earlier."
"You already checked into it, huh?"
A sigh echoed. "Yeah."
"Good. Register this week."
"Okay. Where'd you learn that 'right hook, swipe the knee at the same time' move?"
"Took what you gave me and tweaked it a bit. A bit of science helps."
"Nice. Hey, Nate?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you still love that matchmaker? If she wanted you back, would you go?"
His heart died a little, but he was used to it, and figured one day it wouldn't ache so much. Maybe. Maybe not. "I love her. But I don't know. It would depend. She needs to take a hell of a leap for me to believe she'll stick. Because I won't survive losing her a second time."
"I hear you."
They lay in silence for a while, then slowly got up. Retrieved their beer. And started watching Breaking Bad, side by side.
seventeen
KATE PEEKED IN her office. "You okay?"
She forced a smile. "Hanging in there."
"Ladies' night. Mugs. Friday. Gen's coming."
Ken raised her brow. "You believe her?"
"David's out of town at a conference so I think she'll sneak out. Jane and Arilyn are in."
"Okay." She tried to keep her voice from sounding lackluster, but her energy was low these days. The knowledge that she'd lost Nate for good would take her a long recovery time. But she was making some changes. She'd gone back to her therapist, and the sessions were helpful. All that time she'd gotten her body back to being healthy, she'd forgotten the other important half. To love all of herself, good and bad, fat and skinny, smart and not so smart. They were delving deep, and though the work was painful, a weight began to lift from her soul.
Three weeks had passed since she officially lost Nate. Both Mary and he had withdrawn from Kinnections, and she hoped he was happy with her.
Kate spoke quietly. "You're going to be okay, sweetie. We'll get you through it."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Anything."
"What happens if you let your soul-mate go? You sensed we were meant for each other. But what if it doesn't work? Is one doomed to spend the rest of her life searching for something she'll never find?"
Kate shook her head hard. "No. You cannot think like that. My mother explained about the gift. It doesn't guarantee a happy-ever-after. Two people may not be meant for this time around. You can have many people you love in this lifetime, Ken, I swear to you. And we don't know the future. The most important part is you didn't turn away from it. You tried to tell Nate the truth. You took the risk. That's the key. Understand?"
Silly tears threatened. She was so frickin' emotional lately. "Yes. Thanks."
"No problem. I came in to tell you there's a client waiting. I tried to help him, but he only wants to talk to you. Heard you were the best."
Ken swiped at her eyes and laughed. "Well, he's right about that. You can send him in."
"You got it."
She straightened her desk, adjusted her cocoa brown jacket, and put her game face on. The pen dropped from her fingers when she came face-to-face with Nate's brother.
Fear cut her apart piece by piece. "Is Nate okay?"
"Yes, he's fine. Just wanted to talk."
The breath left her body. Thank God. She'd take the emotional hit of being close to his brother as long as Nate was safe. "Sit down."
He unfurled his long, bulky length into the seat. He tried to hook one ankle over his leg but bashed himself into the desk, so he settled for shaking his foot back and forth as if he were about to face the principal in elementary school. "Got something to ask."
"Go ahead."
"Do you still love Nate?"
Her body froze but she forced herself to speak. "Yes. I will probably always love him."
"I lied."
She cocked her head and studied him. His hand began to pound out a rhythm against his knee. "What do you mean?"
"He wasn't sleeping with Mary. He never did. They were dating, and I didn't trust you. I lied to make sure you didn't bother him again."
A small smile broke over her lips. "I don't blame you. You're his brother, and you wanted to protect him. I would've lied, too."
He stopped rocking and tapping and met her gaze. The hazel eyes that were once filled with accusation now seemed softer. More forgiving. "I made a mistake. I never told Nate about you coming to see him."
She shrugged. "No reason. He's with Mary now, he's happy. That's all I wanted for him. They both withdrew from Kinnections, so things must be working out well."
"He's not with Mary anymore."
The breath whooshed out of her lungs. A terrible hope sprang from deep within, but she held it back. "What are you saying?"
He muttered something under his breath. "Nate loves you. He never had a relationship with Mary--they didn't connect. Mary found someone else, and Nate decided to take some time off from dating. He's trying to get over you, but it's like he's haunted all the time. Unhappy. He goes through the motions. Meets me and the guys for drinks, but he's like a shadow of himself. I think I was wrong."
Her heart pounded so hard and so loudly she swore his brother heard it. "About what?"
"About you. I think you got scared, like you said, and freaked out. I think I judged you because you remind me of all these women who have hurt me, starting with my mom. But I don
't want to do that anymore. Who am I to judge you? We all make mistakes. I'm a walking mess, but Nate's putting me through school now, and I want more. Don't you?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Good. You need to go see him. Get him back."
Her hands trembled as she pushed her hair back from her face. "I'll need to prove he can trust me. You think he'll forgive me?"
"Yeah. But you gotta come up with something good. Something epic."
The hope let loose and sprouted. She had another chance. "I have to think."
"Maybe you go see him in a raincoat, and you take it off, and you're naked underneath. Then you say I'll do anything to get you back."
She rolled her eyes. "Dude, are you serious? That's so lame and overdone. Next idea."
Connor glared. "Would've worked with me," he muttered. "I know! We deliver a big cake to his lab, and you jump out of it in a sequined bikini while the song 'I Apologize' is on in the background and beg his forgiveness."
"Never gonna happen. Can you come up with an option where I wear actual clothing? It needs to be an emotionally epic moment, not physical."
"I think you're going in the wrong direction here."
"You're gonna be a real pain in the ass as a brother-in-law."
They looked at each other and shared their first real laugh.
And then, suddenly, she had it.
"I know what to do. But I'll need to recruit help."
"What's the plan?"
She relayed the basic details. His eyes widened and he finally nodded. "That's a good one. Even though you're not naked."
"Thanks. I'm making the call."
She reached out to grab the phone to talk to Wolfe.
NATE CHECKED HIS WATCH and decided to wait another five minutes. Wolfe was rarely late. He hoped he showed. Since the fight with his brother, things had settled a bit, but loneliness and thoughts of Kennedy still ravaged his mind. He was looking forward to a good game to test his skills and some male conversation for distraction.
The phone buzzed and he slid it out of his pocket. "Standing me up?"
A low chuckle. "Sorry, man, I got caught up in a project and can't make it out."
"No problem. I'll miss kicking your ass, though."
"I'm closing in on you, buddy. Shaved off two strokes in my game and closed my big deal. It was a beautiful thing."
Nate grinned. "Damn, huge congrats. I knew you could do it."
"You made it possible. Also realized there's an untapped market in the hotel industry on the golf course. I left something for you in the office. Show Ron some ID and he'll give it to you."
"ID, huh? The plot thickens."
"Enjoy. And don't call me back with any bullshit. I can't return them."
"Now I'm worried. I guess I'll thank you in advance, then."
"Welcome. I found you another partner, too. Should be in the office waiting for you."
"You think of everything. Now go make some money, for God's sake."
"Check in with you later."
Nate hit the button and slid the phone back in his pocket. Pride surged through him for his friend's accomplishment. He headed to the office, showed his license to Ron, and got escorted to the back room. There in the middle of the room lay the most magnificent golf clubs ever created.
He leaned over to inspect them. Shock held him immobile. His hand trembled as he ran a finger over the solid platinum and gold finish. Son of a bitch. The HONMA five-star custom set golf clubs were extremely rare, and crazy expensive. Trump played with them. How the hell had Wolfe managed?
As if his friend anticipated the question, Nate's gaze snagged on the small envelope taped to the bag. He reached out and opened it up.
Nate,
Thanks for everything. I sent a video clip of your swing and got these custom made in London. Of course, I got my own set, so watch out. The student eventually surpasses the teacher.
See you next week.
--Wolfe
It was a while before he was ready to actually slide one of the clubs out and hold it in his hand. The metal glistened, and the handle fit in his hand like it was meant to be there. Emotion clogged his throat, but he fought it back because he knew Wolfe would groan about getting all mushy and refuse to acknowledge his gratitude. He was damn lucky to score a friend like that.
The door opened. "Nate? Your partner is waiting out here for you."
"Coming." He hoisted the clubs onto his shoulder, still bedazzled, and walked out of the office to the main fairway. Then stopped short.
"Hello, Nate."
Kennedy stood before him.
Holy crap. She was gorgeous. Thick waves of hair fell past her shoulders, streaked with candy caramel color. The tennis dress thing was different from the last one she wore. This dress was shorter, and in fire-engine red. Her bare golden legs went on forever and ended in a pair of scarlet golf shoes.
His voice didn't work. He kept trying, but it got stuck halfway up his lungs and caught in his throat. His dick seemed to work fine, though. It rose to full staff salute and pushed painfully against his pants. This was not happening. Was it? Was he dreaming or was he just completely stupid to think she ever secretly loved him at all?
He quickly ran through endless physics equations to calm his mind and be able to walk without highlighting his arousal. "What are you doing here?"
Her tongue shot out to dampen glossy pink lips, showcasing that one crooked tooth he was so crazy about. "Golfing. Wolfe couldn't make it."
Temper warred with his sick desire to spend time with her. "And you're okay with this?"
She blinked. "Sure. Aren't you?"
He grit his teeth. No. No more games and pain and hoping for something from her she wasn't able to give. "No, I'm not. Are you trying to deliberately mess with my head? Why are you here, Kennedy?"
She flinched, and suddenly the fake calm dropped from her face and was replaced by truth. Those whiskey eyes filled with longing and a hint of--fear? Was that even possible? What was going on? "I need to talk to you," she murmured. "To explain. Some things."
His heart leaped with hope. He squashed it like an annoying gnat. "I think we've said everything we need. I can't do this with you anymore. I'm going home."
He turned and prayed for the strength to reach his car. To drive away and heal from this woman who stole his heart and turned his world upside down and didn't want him.
"Wait!" She jumped out and blocked his path. Twisted her fingers and looked up from thick dark lashes with pleading, puppy dog eyes that walloped away his breath. "Please, just give me a chance. Play three holes with me. If I win, you listen to everything I have to say. If I lose, I'll walk and never bother you again."
He looked at her in astonishment. "Are you kidding me? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"I triple dog dare you. Three holes. You owe me that."
He owed her? Was she kidding? Pure temper warred with his survival instinct to get away and save himself. She wanted to challenge him to a game? Fine. But this time he was playing for keeps. On his own holy ground of the golf course, Nate intended to finally finish this relationship and not look back. On his terms.
"Be careful what you wish for, Ken," he growled under his breath. "I've finally had enough."
The woman had the guts to smile at him. "So have I. Let's do this. This time I brought my own clubs."
He smothered a humorless laugh. Damn her to hell. But he realized this was the only way to end it. Once he won, she'd leave him alone, and maybe he'd finally be able to get on with his life. It was a poetic sort of finale, but more like an opera where everyone died at the end rather than a romance novel.
"Fine. We won't need the cart. Follow me."
He grabbed her clubs, refusing to allow her to carry them up the hill, and trudged off. She kept up, but he refused to look back. All he needed to see was that perky rear barely covered by the ridiculous dress. How could they make such stuff to play golf in? It wasn't decent. What would ha
ppen if she had to bend down to get one of the balls?
Smoke steamed out of his head, but he reached the first hole, released her clubs, and got his head in the game. "Ladies first."
She took her spot in the tee box. Glued her gaze to the ball, shimmied a bit back and forth while the red skirt swung in rhythm, drew back, and socked the ball with a perfect arc. It landed nicely on the edge of the fairway. Usually, she commented and chatted nonstop while they golfed. This time, she remained quiet, as if this game was actually important to her.
Nate knew the feeling.
He yanked his emotions under wrap and set up. His approach shot was flawless, and he watched as the ball landed right by the tee, set up for perfect par.
She frowned. "Nice shot," she offered.
He glared. "Thanks."
They trudged to the fairway and finished up.
Score: Four strokes for her. Three for him.
The second hole she upped the stakes, with a gorgeous powerful line drive that got it close to the green. How on earth did she just happen to have the perfect natural swing that no one in his life had ever possessed? Was she wearing red panties to match the dress? Would he find out if she bent down? He actually smelled her, the scent of bare skin and arousal, spice and musk, and all woman. His brain ping-ponged between lust and golf, but he swore to win and managed to knock the ball right to the green. Then wrapped it up quickly while she fumbled on the final putt.
Score: Four strokes for her. Two for him.
"It's over," he said quietly. "You'd have to get a hole in one and that's impossible."
"I can do it."
Frustration singed his nerves, and he clenched the club around his fingers. "It's over," he said again, more forcefully. "Besides needing a hole in one, I'd need four strokes handicap."
She stuck her chin out, got on tiptoe, and spoke right in his face. "I'm not a quitter. We said we'd play three holes."
He grit his teeth and swore. "This is ridiculous and unnecessary. Fine. Let's go."
He marched to the third hole and she kept pace. The rolling green hills spread before them, and sun streamed over the land like a gift from the gods. Birds sang with Disney cheer, a light breeze caressed the skin, and he'd never been so fucking miserable in his life. Last hole. He should've known she'd never give up, except on herself.
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