It's Definitely Not You: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy

by Abby Brooks

  “Do you have kids?” I asked, pointing with a fry to the image of three happy people smiling under the sun.

  “Me? No kids.” Kennedy pivoted to follow my gaze, then huffed a laugh. “I helped a patient with his asthma and now he thinks I’m imbued with the power to heal the world.”

  A soft smile lit her face. Her eyes softened. So gentle they didn’t look like hers anymore…at least not the version of her I knew.

  But if this was how everyone else saw her, no wonder they loved her so much.

  Desperate to give my attention to anything else, I turned back to the fridge. “Who’s that?” I pointed to an image of a man in a white overcoat. Stethoscope around his neck. Deep lines etched around a tanned smile as he crouched between two children in outdated clothes and mismatched shoes.

  Kennedy plucked a fry from her plate and chomped off the end. “That would be my dad.”

  “He looks like a good guy.”

  “He is. A chronically good guy.” She attacked another bite. “He’s a doctor without borders. My mom was a journalist. They met in Zimbabwe and had a whirlwind affair where they accidentally made me.” She lifted her eyebrows as if to say “whoops!”

  “I take it things didn’t work out?”

  “I mean, Dad’s happy doing his thing. Mom says she’s happy, so I guess they worked out in that sense, though I swear she got the raw end of the deal. They moved back to the States. Tried to do the whole nuclear family thing. They barely made it through my first year before Dad went back to saving the world. Mom gave up her job and did the single mom thing. He sent money while I was young with pictures and letters outlining his multitude of good deeds.” She shrugged. “Mom freelances now.”

  “And you’re a doctor. Sounds like a success story if I’ve ever heard one.”

  She shrugged again. “I wonder what my mom would have been if I hadn’t come along. Dad’s life? He’s gone back to doing what he loves and I’m just another wonderful achievement for him to brag about. Mom, though? Nothing about her life looks the same as it did before she met him. She gets this fire in her eyes when she talks about what she was like pre-motherhood.” Kennedy dropped her burger onto the wrapping and pushed it away. “Sorry. Definite overshare there.” Humiliation swam through her silver-blue eyes.

  Under normal circumstances, I would have been ready for her story to end before it started, but it looked like we’d stepped out of normal circumstances.

  Her overshare opened the door and showed me another glimpse of who she really was.

  And I was really starting to like what I saw—despite my best efforts otherwise.

  I pushed her food back her way. “Make it up to me by finishing your dinner.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kennedy

  My phone buzzed like an angry hornet, saving me from having to deal with the fact that I’d poured out my life story to Joe of all people. Thankful to break eye contact, I shifted on my hip to retrieve it from my pocket.

  Dorothy: I found Toto. He came for a visit.

  I cursed, then picked up my half-finished meal and smashed the wrapping back around the burger. “I’m sorry, I have to go. There’s an emergency at work.”

  “You haven’t finished eating.”

  “I’ll finish later.” I shoved my food in the fridge, grabbed my keys, and hit the road.

  What now? What’s happened to Shane now?

  My stomach clenched around what little I did eat as I prepared myself for every possible scenario. Illness. Concussion. Broken bones. More stitches. Hell, if Shane’s mom wasn’t able to keep food in the kitchen, maybe the power had been turned off, and he had heatstroke without air conditioning. For all the potential situations I concocted, none of them prepared me for what I found when I burst through the doors.

  Shane, dirty, but smiling, perched on a chair with his legs swinging, shoelace ticking across the linoleum. He shoved a grubby hand into an open bag of chips and rammed them in his mouth, his grin expanding when he saw me. “Hi,” he chirped, then wiped bits of potato off his lips with the back of his hand.

  “Hey, buddy.” Confused, I forced a smile and approached Dorothy. “Why is he here?” I hissed.

  Her grin disintegrated. “You asked about him when you came in with that hottie with the body. When he showed up for a snack, I thought you’d like to know he was okay.” Her lips formed an O and her eyes opened wide. “You thought he was hurt again.”

  I patted Dorothy’s hand. “We really need to work on your code system.”

  While she giggled around an apology, I perched beside Shane, who polished off the chips, then crunched into an apple, grinning as he chewed. “We don’t get these kind at home. Mom says they cost too much. When I grow up, I’m only gonna get the juicy kind.” With a smack of his lips, he went in for another bite.

  “Where is your mom today?”

  “Work. She said thank you for the hamburgers. She wanted me to say that if I saw you.”

  “When will she be home?”

  His eyebrows pinched together. “After I go to bed, prolly.”

  “You guys good on food?”

  He nodded, his eyes glued to the snack in his hand. He didn’t look like a kid who was good on food. “How’s your finger? Did Mom ever say anything about the stitches?”

  “I hid my hand so she never saw ‘em. I didn’t want to scare her, even though I think the scar looks cool.” He held up the proof of his assessment. The skin was red and raised, but the sutures had dissolved and he was healing well despite questionable hygiene. We chatted about dinosaurs, superheroes, and how excited he was to start school in a couple weeks. I left with deep thoughts weighing on my heart.

  When I pulled into Nan’s driveway, I headed immediately to the guesthouse, though I wasn’t sure why. A couple days ago, I would have said I felt compelled to fight with Joe to burst the bubble of concern growing around Shane, but that wasn’t true anymore. I thought, maybe, I just wanted to talk. I found Joe stretched out on one of the new chairs near the firepit with Nan. He leaned back, beer in hand, smile in place, long legs extended and crossed at the ankles, while she nursed a gin and tonic.

  “Did you see what he did for me?” Nan waved a hand to indicate the backyard. “This man is a miracle worker.”

  The smile on her face found its way to mine. “He’s something, that’s for sure.”

  “Careful there. That could almost be mistaken for a compliment.” Joe quirked his head, then indicated a third seat and brandished an unopened beer. “I grabbed this for me, but it’s yours if you want it.”

  “I’d love it. Thanks.” His fingers brushed mine as I accepted the bottle, refreshing the smile on my face.

  “Everything okay? You ran out of here awful quick earlier.”

  Why did everything about the man crank my reactions to eleven? Why was one touch of his skin enough to make me forget anything not related to Joe Channing? Why did one question about my day have my heart glowing like a sunrise after a stormy night? I popped the top and took a long swig as I curled into a chair. The snap and pop of the fire soothed my frazzled nerves and I took another drink.

  After watching me for few silent seconds, Joe leaned closer to my grandmother. “Has anyone ever told her it’s strange to let questions hang in the air unanswered?”

  “Sometimes,” Nan replied in a voice worthy of a nature show narrator, “when she’s working on something that really bothers her, she has to sit quietly for the thought to come together.”

  “And you’ve told her how uncomfortable it is when she doesn’t explain what she’s doing to those of us who don’t understand?”

  I laughed and took another drink while Nan giggled through her answer. “Yes, but it hasn’t helped yet.”

  “Okay, you two. I get it. Awkward silence makes for poor conversation.” I leaned my elbows on my knees and stared at the ground between my feet as I gave them the high points about Shane—carefully treading around doctor patient confidentiality. “I’m starting t
o wonder if I need to call the Department of Children and Families.”

  Joe’s sky-blue eyes reminded me of a lake freezing over. “That could land this kid in foster care.”

  “Which would be a good thing, if he’s not being taken care of at home…”

  His jaw set. His lips tightened. He’d already decided he knew everything he needed to know about the situation and was digging his heels in as we spoke. “Putting this kid in the system could be the worst thing for him.”

  I sat back and took a long pull of my beer to buy some time not to lash out, reminding myself he’d been very sweet to my Nan. “Do you fight me just to be obstinate?”

  “Not everything is roses and glitter, Kennedy.” His gaze gave me frostbite.

  “And sometimes things have a happy ending, Joe.”

  “What if you say something and the kid ends up in a worse situation? What if he spends the rest of his life wondering? What if there’s more to the story? What if...” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “You just don't know, Kennedy. You'll never know.”

  There had to be a reason the story bothered him so much. I wanted to ask what he wasn’t telling me. I also lacked the energy to fight it out of him, so I swallowed back the desire with another swig of beer.

  Nan sipped her gin and tonic. “Joe does have a point. You don’t have enough information to know what’s really going on, yet.”

  I bobbed my head in agreement.

  “And,” Nan continued, focusing on Joe, “Kennedy has a point, too. If this child continues to show signs of neglect, she has an obligation to get him the care he deserves.”

  “I know.” Joe threw back the rest of his beer. “I do. It’s just, people want to see perfect solutions that don’t exist.” He stared at the sky as he took in a long breath and let it out slowly.

  Nan nodded. “Well, I’m late for book club. You kids enjoy the evening.” She stood and offered us both a hug, then hummed her way back into the house, leaving me with a very quiet Joe.

  The fire cracked and a shower of sparks leapt toward the sky as he stood. My heart let out a definite whomp whomp, assuming he intended to call it a night and leave me alone with my thoughts.

  “I’m gonna grab another beer.” He jerked his thumb toward the guesthouse. “You want one, or you good?”

  “I’m typically a one and done kind of gal, but what the heck.” I threw back the rest of my drink, handed him my empty, then watched him swagger away. When he came back a few seconds later with two beers in hand, I took mine and clinked my bottle with his. “Thank you for taking such good care of my grandma. You’ve been wonderful to her.”

  “She’s a wonderful lady.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve made things so difficult for you. I’m not sure you deserved it.”

  Joe’s eyebrows lifted as a laugh shot out his mouth. “You’re still just ‘not sure,’ huh? And here I thought I was on the way to winning you over.”

  “You keep throwing beers at me and we’ll see where the night ends.” As the words unfurled, I wished I could roll them right back in and swallow them whole.

  I heard the innuendo. No doubt in my mind, Joe did, too.

  His eyes lit up like I’d handed him his favorite toy. “You just realized what you said, didn’t you? And you’re wondering how I’m taking it and if I’ll let you live it down.”

  “Close. I definitely wish I’d phrased that differently, so, one point for you. But I know you won’t let me live it down, so no points on that last one.”

  “Fifty percent isn’t bad.”

  “It’s not good either.”

  “You got me there.” His eyes met mine, the heat of the fire reflecting in his gaze. “Do you work tomorrow?”

  “The better question is when don’t I work.” I shifted. “I have a full day of patients crammed in so close I won’t have enough time to give them the care they need followed by an hour or two at the clinic to make up for it. I thought medicine would be about helping people. Turns out it’s just a business, after all.” Even I heard the frustration in my voice. “Sorry. Don’t mean to let my bitterness show.”

  “Life has a way of disappointing us all. I mean this fire pit?” He indicated the thing with the neck of his beer. “It’s extremely disappointing.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, ready to fight him to the death over the fire pit’s honor, but the gleam in his eyes alerted me to the presence of a joke.

  “The scent of those new flowers coming to us on the breeze?” He inhaled and shook his head. “The worst.”

  His routine began to make sense.

  “This beer?” I drank, frowning as I swallowed. “So disappointing.”

  He nodded like I’d made a fabulous point. “The stars? I’ve never been so disappointed in my life. I mean, what? Aren’t there supposed to be more?”

  With a shake of my head, I let out a long sigh. “And this company?” I carefully met his eyes. “It’s the worst.”

  A smile tugged at his lips. “The absolute worst.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Joe

  The first week of August came and went. My shoulder healed enough that Kennedy didn’t need to help me around the house any longer. I’d say I missed her company, but she never gave me the chance.

  For some reason, she continued to hang around.

  And, for maybe the same reason, I was glad.

  Enough time had passed since my fall that I could no longer blame my feelings on a concussion. I was gonna have to come to terms with the fact that I liked Penny Dreadful.

  She was smart. Funny. A tad cynical, but still kind. And fuck, was she beautiful. Those lips captivated me, whether they were smiling, pouting, or lashing me with a vicious comeback. Her hair, long and flowing, begged me to clench a fistful and take control of the situation. Her body was a playground for my eyes. I lost myself to her curves like a car speeding through mountain roads. The soft spot under her throat. Down her neck. Lingering over the swell of her breasts, then zooming around the taper of her waist.

  “Joe?” Maxine bumped me with her shoulder. “Are you listening?”

  Blinking, I refocused on the house in front of me. The porch fully restored. The door set nicely in place, still closing with barely a whisper of effort.

  Concrete things like structure. Form. Exertion.

  Not her beauty, the reasons for her smile, and chemistry so explosive I wished I’d focused more in science class. “Yep. I’m here. Just…lost in thought.”

  The scent of lilacs arrived before she did, eliciting a smile that Maxine didn’t miss. “I couldn’t imagine why,” she murmured.

  Kennedy stopped beside me, bobbing her head as she stared at the front of Maxine’s home. “What are we looking at here?”

  I made a sweeping gesture. “This is what they call a house. Or home. Or domicile would work, if you’re feeling fancy.”

  “So funny I forgot to laugh. Just what, exactly, are we appraising in regard to this abode?” She arched an eyebrow with the last word.

  “The lady and I were discussing possible colors for the exterior of her residence.”

  “I believe this dwelling place would look lovely dressed in a crisp, clean white.”

  Maxine popped a hand on her hip. “You two are something else, you know that? Not everything is a competition.”

  Funny. It didn’t feel like we were competing. It felt like we were playing. Relating. Flirting.

  Meeting Kennedy’s gaze, I gave a light shrug of concession. She shook her head as if to say, “I have no clue what she’s talking about.”

  “I was thinking I’d paint it purple,” Maxine said with a decisive nod. “I like purple. It’s distinctive. Bold.”

  “Don’t you think you should consider something more mainstream? In case you want to sell one day?”

  Maxine’s gaze skated over Kennedy’s face, leaving frosty judgment in its wake. “That old chestnut.”

  She held up her hands. “I don’t mean now. Obviously. I’m talking long
-term.”

  “Speaking of long-term, how’s the work on your apartment coming?”

  Kennedy rolled her eyes. “Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing here. Yes, they ran into issues repairing the water damage because yes, turns out cheap building materials and poor maintenance has caused some big issues.” She shook her head. “I’m not even talking about apartments right now anyway. I’m talking about purple being a bad idea for the exterior of a house. No one wants a purple house.”

  “I’m someone. And I want a purple house.” Maxine patted her granddaughter’s arm. “Now. I have to get going. You two enjoy the day.” She gave us a wicked look that had my thoughts doing somersaults to be the first one to the top.

  Just what did Maxine think happened when she left?

  Delores met her on the walk. They linked arms, tittered like little girls, and climbed into Ms. McIntire’s land yacht in search of who knew what.

  Kennedy frowned as the vehicle lumbered out of the driveway, then careened down the street. “That was weird.”

  Not knowing if she meant the interaction about the color purple, the strange look Maxine gave us, or both, I simply nodded. “Have a good day?”

  “I had a typical day. Lots of people I want to help, not enough time or energy to do it to the level I’d like.” She put a hand on my shoulder and I flinched.

  Not because it still hurt from the fall.

  And not because I didn’t like her touching me.

  Because as soon as she did, I wanted to yank her into my arms and crush my mouth to hers. Because my dick had devious ideas of its own. Because if she caught one hint of my physical reaction to her, she’d be reaching for that pepper spray in no time flat.

  Catching my response, she pulled away like I’d burned her and raked her hand through her hair. As I’d recently grown obsessed with her luscious locks, she wasn’t helping matters. “You ready to get to work?” she asked, her eyes bouncing off mine.