by Abby Brooks
He nodded. “I was.”
Forgetting my plan, I went back to studying the pictures. He’d been all over the world, posing in front of historic monuments with some guy wearing a ballcap so low it cloaked his face in shadow.
I felt Joe’s presence behind me. His warmth blossomed along my spine. For the first time, my lady bits celebrated and I didn’t disagree.
“That’s my brother.”
“You guys have been everywhere.”
“Almost.”
“Did you have a falling out?” I turned, surprised to find myself face to face with a man I’d called my nemesis just a few days ago.
A man who infuriated me more than anyone.
A man who knew just what to say to get under my skin.
A man whose blue eyes narrowed as he recoiled.
“Why would you ask that? I mean, for one, who says ‘falling out’ anymore? And for two, why would you think we had one?”
“You two were close enough to travel the world together, and now here you are, doing pro bono work for strangers, while living in what might as well be a storage shed. It doesn’t add up.”
“The same could be said for you. You’re a working medical doctor donating her time to a free clinic.”
“I want to do something real.”
He pointed a finger my way, a smile ghosting his lips. “There you go.”
“No, no, no. You’re not getting off that easy. That’s my reason. What’s yours?”
“It’s the same.” Joe shrugged and flared his hands. “I’ve lived his life. Now I want to live mine.”
I studied the man in front of me, then the pictures, then the man again, suddenly overwhelmed to be so close to him. To be in his space. Breathing his air.
The incredibly charged air.
Maybe Delores hadn’t been so wrong to mention chemistry.
I stepped toward the door, toward freedom, toward the ability to think in a straight line. “Anyway.” I cleared my throat and brought myself back to reality. “I thought, since you’re not going to be able to do a whole lot on your own, you could use an assistant.” After several awkward moments of silence, Joe grumbled something I couldn’t make out. I raised my hand. “That’s me. I’ll be the assistant.”
“Oh, no.” He gave the first real laugh I’d heard from him and it sent shivers rushing across my skin. “You’ve done enough when it comes to me, don’t you think?”
“I’ve done enough damage, that’s for sure. I know I’ve been a pain and I want to make that up to you. Look, I’m good at following directions. We don’t have to be friends. We don’t even have to talk beyond basic instructions. I’ll be your arms and hands while you heal and that’s it.” I did everything but wag my tail to look as friendly as possible.
Joe shook his head, fighting a grin. “You’ll be in the way.”
“I’ll prove you wrong. You think you have me all figured out, but you don’t.”
The same was true in reverse. I knew it as clearly as I knew his shoulder had dislocated the second he hit the ground.
I thought I had Joe Channing figured out.
Look at me.
Wrong again.
Chapter Fourteen
Joe
Something had changed in the way Kennedy looked at me and I didn’t hate it.
In fact, I liked it.
A lot.
Her eyes hit mine with heat—and not the kind spurred by hate. The kind that sent my blood rushing away from my brain in the most uncomfortably pleasant way possible, considering the woman in question was staring directly at me.
I leaned against the wall and crossed my legs at the ankle, absently running a hand along the straps of my sling. “You can be my assistant, but only if you promise to do everything I say without question.”
My brain offered several not-so-helpful, X-rated suggestions as to what I might tell her to do. Most of them involved her lips. All of them had some part of her body coming into contact with mine. Another rush of blood from my brain to my pants had me shifting my position as covertly as possible. I definitely hit the ground harder than I thought when I fell off that ladder. Or maybe seeing Penny Dreadful be nice to her adoring patients broke my brain.
Who would have thought she was actually a doctor?
Maybe one of those unquestionable orders I give her should include her white coat and stethoscope…
Kennedy blushed enough to make me wonder if her inner horndog was causing her the same kind of trouble mine was, then broke eye contact. “Why do I get the feeling I shouldn’t agree to that stipulation?” she asked with a cautious smile. “I’m not very good at taking orders without asking questions.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t agree.” I bobbed my head back and forth. “If I’m gonna be cool with this nonsense, I need to know I can trust you to do things properly. A lot can go wrong at a construction site if you’re not paying attention or don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Like falling off a ladder and dislocating your shoulder?”
She had me with that one and the quirk to her lips said she knew it.
“Just like falling off a ladder.” Considering most of me wanted to jump her bones while the rest of me couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on, I made the concession as graciously as possible.
“I’m not sure how many free visits to the clinic I can swing before my boss gets suspicious. So, unquestioning obedience it is.” Kennedy held out her hand, but yanked it away just as I moved to take it. “But only when it comes to the job site,” she said with an arch to her eyebrow. “If we’re not working, I’m not obeying.”
“Fair enough.” I extended my hand and we shook on it. The feeling of her soft skin against my calloused palms sent another round of impure thoughts through my head, most of them featuring Penny Dreadful in a white coat, high heels, and not much else. I released her as quickly as I could and she scurried out of my personal space like she could read my mind.
Please don’t tell me she’s psychic, I thought as we navigated an awkward round of goodbyes and the door to the guesthouse closed behind her.
With nothing to distract me, the throbbing in my shoulder notched up a level…as did the concern that Collin’s face was more visible in those pictures than I thought. Arguing with my anxiety, I wandered over to the wall to study them. Of all the shots of the two of us together, I’d chosen to hang those because I was sure his face was hidden.
But if that was true, why did Kennedy stare so hard at the images? Did she recognize her favorite singer-songwriter? Or was she staring at me?
I looked happy in all of them. Did she see that? Or was the only thing she noticed the asshole in black?
“Why do you care what she saw?” I grumbled, then headed to the bed and plopped onto the mattress. Not hating Penny Dreadful confused me more with each pulse of pain in my shoulder. The good mood that bloomed over the afternoon faded. Quickly.
I knew what came next and hated myself for it. Just like I did every time someone new started to pay attention to me, I slid out the box of pictures I kept hidden under my bed. It sat in my lap like a leopard seal, cute and unassuming on the outside but dangerous and deadly on the inside.
I lifted off the lid and a lifetime of shitty memories hit me in the face. Picture after picture came out of the box, each one slashing another reminder into my skin.
Don’t let people in. This is what happens when you do.
Don’t trust anyone. They trade you for something better as soon as they get the chance.
Like a masochist with a blade, I held up each item as proof that life was only good at letting me down. That people pretended to care long enough to get what they needed before they left.
“Except Collin,” I muttered as I dropped a particularly bad memory back onto the pile. From the very first day he’d come into my life, he’d had my back. Just like I had his. “And that’s why his pictures don’t live in this box.”
Blinking, I stared at the wall for a few s
econds before I rolled my eyes and raked my good hand through my hair. “You’re also talking to yourself, weirdo.”
So much had happened in the last couple hours.
Falling off a ladder.
Dislocating my shoulder.
Realizing Penny Dreadful might not be so dreadful after all—especially not the version of her my dirty fantasies kept spotlighting.
And finally, talking to myself while going through the reminders of why I was better on my own with my not-so-favorite box of memories.
“Today’s been one for the books.” I sighed as I put the lid back on my box and shoved it as far under the bed as it would go. “And…you’re still talking to yourself.”
Apparently, the day had been strange enough to loosen my grip on sanity.
After popping a few Tylenol and icing down my shoulder, I heated some leftovers for dinner and got ready for bed. I braced myself for the bad dreams that inevitably kept me awake half the night after opening that box of nightmares.
Instead, copper hair, fuck-me lips, and an obscenely short, white coat paraded through my mind. By the time I woke up the next morning, I had a long list of fantasies that required Kennedy’s unquestionable obedience—and an impressive case of morning wood.
I was in serious trouble.
If I couldn’t handle being in the same room with her without my body rioting, what would happen when our sweaty bodies came together on a project? She’d be bending and twisting, and I’d be trying not to gawk at her hips, her ass, her pert breasts…
With a groan, I flopped back onto my bed and threw my good arm over my eyes.
“Nothing good can come from this,” I murmured, with the biggest, shit-eating-est grin that ever was.
Chapter Fifteen
Joe
A week passed and Kennedy approved the removal of my sling on one stipulation. I had to swear to rest my shoulder until she could help with my projects around the house. Considering she worked two jobs, I had a lot of downtime.
Never a good thing for me.
Desperate to keep myself from going crazy, I latched on to the first good idea that came to mind—another gift for Maxine.
She had been so appreciative of the bookshelves, surely a bigger surprise would make her even happier. Small surprise, good. Giant surprise, gooder. The logic seemed solid.
During my copious downtime, I realized the overgrowth in the backyard obscured a potential oasis of relaxation. Once I noticed the serenity hiding in the jungle of weeds, I couldn’t get the idea to transform it out of my head. I sent pictures of the area to Harlow, along with my vision for the finished product, and she spent a few days coming up with ideas for the landscaping.
Her artistic eye didn’t let me down. The sketches she sent back had me bobbing my head and cranking the excitement. I bought the supplies and scheduled the delivery for early Tuesday morning, when Maxine would be out all day for Carl, Judo, and book club with Delores and the girls. Kennedy would go from one job to the next, so the Monroe house was mine.
For labor, I called in favors I wasn’t owed with Collin, Lucas, his brothers, and their wives. They arrived bright and early, coffee in hand and sarcasm flying. Part of me wondered what would happen if Kennedy came home early and found Collin and Harlow West in her grandma’s backyard. I even considered calling her home on some made up emergency, but refrained. Finishing the work in time to surprise Maxine was more important than seeing Kennedy’s face light up over meeting her favorite international superstar.
Funny how many times I had to remind myself of that throughout the day.
The Huttons and Wests sweated through the work, but finished with smiles on their faces as they packed up.
“I owe you big time,” I said to Lucas as he leaned on a shovel, surveying the transformation.
“You really, really do.” He wiped his forehead, streaking dirt into his hair. “Looks good though, doesn’t it?”
Where once overgrown ferns and yucca plants ruled, bougainvillea bloomed in tidy mulched beds. A rock garden surrounded a new pond, ready for koi if Maxine gave the go-ahead. I wasn’t going to throw something living into her backyard without her permission. A hammock stretched under palm trees and cushion laden chairs surrounded a fire pit.
“I can just see Maxine and Kennedy out here after a long day.” I shoved my hands into my back pockets. “Winding down with a glass of wine.”
Lucas gave me a look. “I thought you hated the granddaughter.”
“Maxine loves her.” I shrugged. “Plus, she’s not as bad as I thought.”
“Right.” Luc gave a low laugh and a shake of his head. “Let’s go with that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I followed him as he gathered his things and started loading them into vehicles.
“It means I think you’re full of shit. ”
I scoffed. “How can you say that? She’s not as bad as I thought she was. The end.”
Collin paused on his way to his car. “Who’s he trying to bullshit? You? Or himself?”
“Time will tell,” Lucas said with a laugh. “Either way…” He leveled a finger at me. “You owe us big for what happened back there today.” The gathering clan voiced their agreements.
“I know, man. Believe me, I know.” I thanked the Huttons and Wests for their help, then stood in the driveway and waved as the caravan drove off. Not ten seconds after the last vehicle disappeared around the corner, Kennedy’s Honda careened onto the street. She jerked to a stop in front of me and hopped out, a greasy fast food bag clutched in her hand.
“I am so sorry I’m late.” She frowned, taking in my sweat covered face. “Did you start without me? It’s too soon for you to go back to doing things yourself. How many times have I told you that?”
“I didn’t do them myself. I had help.” Unable to contain my glee, I waved her toward the backyard. “Come see. It’s another surprise for Maxine.”
Kennedy followed me around the corner. When she came face to face with the transformation, she dropped her bag to the ground with a heavy thwack. “This had to cost a fortune.”
“It cost less than you think.” I retrieved her dinner, shaking my head at her choice. The woman lived on fast food. I’d have to cook her a real meal sometime…
The thought had me laughing to myself. If Collin and Lucas heard me say anything like that when it came to her, I’d never live it down.
“Why do you keep doing these things for my Nan? Not that I’m complaining, but you’re going above and beyond what you agreed to, and on your own dime, too. I used to think you were working some kind of angle.” Her eyes bounced to mine, then shame dropped them to her feet. “Now I’m not so sure.”
“I have a giant gap in my employment that’s difficult to explain. Maxine could have assumed I was a criminal like some other people I know.” I arched an eyebrow to punctuate the point. “She didn’t. She took a chance on me anyway. True kindness is rare. I want to repay that.”
Kennedy nodded like she was agreeing with part of the conversation I couldn’t hear. “She’s gonna love it. I wish I’d been there to help.”
“You mean keep an eye on me.” I bumped my good shoulder against hers.
Over the last week, she had proved true to her word, pouring herself into assisting me while I healed. She was attentive and worked hard, even though her two jobs demanded more energy than she had to give. She was also a task master when it came to any movement that involved both my arms. Seeing as I was a terrible patient who thought I could ignore the injury back to health, Kennedy basically barked at me all day every day.
She hit me with a look that said we were thinking similar thoughts. “You need me to keep an eye on you, thank you very much. You push that shoulder too hard and you’re gonna tear something.”
“You told me pain is the sign to stop, right?”
Kennedy slowly nodded her agreement, sensing the trap I’d laid for her but unable to see where it was. “I did.”
“Then you�
�re gonna need to stop pestering me about my shoulder because you’re being a pain in my ass.”
Her jaw dropped with a rush of laughter. “Very funny, Channing. Very funny.” Dark circles stood out under her eyes, while the setting sun caught the copper highlights in her hair.
I averted my gaze so she wouldn’t catch me staring. “When was the last time you slept?”
“Last night.” Kennedy sat back on her heel, studying me like she thought I’d laid another trap.
I hadn’t. She pushed too hard and I was worried, though I’d lie through my teeth if she called me on it.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Her eyebrows hit her hairline. “I actually did sleep last night, thank you very much.”
“Okay, fine. But for how long?”
Her gaze skated away from mine. “Long enough.”
“When was the last time you ate something that wasn’t fast food?”
She blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on here?”
“I don’t want you to kill yourself out of guilt for treating me so very badly for so very long.” I placed a hand over my heart and painted on a wounded look while she let out a rush of laughter.
“Very subtle. You should be proud of yourself.” Lifting the greasy bag, she gestured toward the house. “You hungry? I brought enough for both of us.”
With Maxine out for dinner with Carl, we had the house to ourselves. Kennedy pulled burgers and fries out of the bag, plonking one of each in front of me. We ate in companionable silence, which left an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Nothing about Kennedy came easily.
My gaze wandered the kitchen, taking in the personal details I’d overlooked every other time I’d been in the house. Lace curtains framed a row of herbs sunbathing on the windowsill. A deceptively welcoming cookie jar sat in a place of honor on the counter. Magnets clipped photos and a child’s crayon drawing to the fridge.