I finished it last night. Are you coming in today?
He read it twice, even though it was short enough so he knew he couldn’t read anything into the message. No indication of whether or not she liked it or maybe thought it wasn’t even salvageable. Nothing.
I can stop by in a bit. See you then.
He typed with one finger and the phone flat on the table because he had a slice of bacon in his left hand, which meant Rob could see the screen.
“She finished what last night?” he asked. When Danny didn’t respond, Rob’s eyes widened. “Did you actually let her read it?”
After rising, then shoving the bacon in his mouth and his phone in his pocket, Danny started carrying plates to the counter. Cleaning up gave him a reason not to look at his nosy brother, at least.
“You never let anybody read your books before they’re done. Ever. Not even Mom.”
Danny snorted. “Not even Mom? Why would I let Mom read it before it’s done?”
“I don’t know. Because she’s Mom. Why did you letKenzieread it before it’s done?”
Because she’s Kenzie.“Kind of hard for her to help me fix a book she hasn’t read.”
“She must be special,” Rob said, fishing. Danny kept his mouth shut. “Maybe it’s fate. She helps you with your book and you fall in love over patching plot holes and live happily ever after.”
“No chance of that. I’m not a happily ever after kind of guy.”
Rob snorted. “I’m pretty sure all of us thought that recently, and now you have two new sisters-in-law, with a third on deck if she ever decides what kind of wedding she wants, and two nieces.”
“While I’m thrilled for all of my brothers—even you—marriage isn’t in the cards for me. Even if I could find a woman who accepted all of my quirks and bad habits, I’m too selfish to make room for a partner. I like to leave my notes spread out on the table sometimes and I work strange hours and nobody should have to help support my coffee habit.”
“I’ve smelled you at deadline time, brother. Sure, it might be cruel to subject a woman to that, but I’m pretty sure many authors manage to have spouses. And some children, even.”
“I like my life the way it is.” Broken muse and neglected libido aside.
“Okay. If you’re dead set on being a lonely old man roaming around grumbling at the index cards and stuff pinned all over your walls, then I guess it’s best you know that now. Kenzie’s got enough on her plate without some guy playing games with her.”
“I have no intention of playing games with her. And don’t you have tree branches to look at?”
He was still thinking about Rob’s words when he pulled in the parking lot of Corinne’s Kitchen two hours later. Danny meant what he’d said about not intending to play games with Kenzie. Making a pass at her could be disastrous for him. One, she might reject him and then stop helping him brainstorm ideas. Or two, maybe she’d be into him, but when it inevitably went south, it would kill whatever chemistry made her such a great creative partner.
The closer he got to the entrance, the shakier he felt, and it made no sense to him. His editor had shredded his second book so badly, he’d gone through an entire package of index cards trying to map out where and how it needed fixing. Despite it selling well, his agent had hated his third book. And then there were the reviews. He knew how to roll with criticism of his work.
So why the nerves right now? Maybe it was superstition—this was the first time he’d ever let somebody read a manuscript before the draft was finished. Or it was fear that she was going to tell him it wasn’t good, and, since he had three weeks to finish it, that would be disastrous.
He walked through the entrance just in time to see the swinging door to the kitchen close behind her. The place was busier than he’d thought it would be. He’d been hoping to arrive after the breakfast folks and before the lunch folks, but apparently people around here just ate whenever they wanted.
When she emerged with two plates, their eyes met and she smiled. “Good morning. I’ll be with you in a sec.”
He waited, alone at the counter except for two older men at the other end who were arguing about property taxes, until she returned and set a mug of coffee in front of him. “Did you want anything else, or did you already have breakfast?”
“I ate with Rob and Hannah, but coffee’s always welcome.” He took a deep breath and dove in. “So you finished it, huh?”
“Yes, I did. And I have some thoughts.”
He winced, putting his hand over his chest in an exaggerated gesture. “Did my agent call you? That’s what he says right before he destroys my soul and shreds my confidence like cheap confetti.”
Her back stiffened and her brow furrowed in the cutest way. “Maybe you need a new agent because he sounds like a jerk.”
Warmth curled through his body, and he was afraid his smile might slip into goofy grin territory if he didn’t get ahold of himself. Her defense of him was so instant and so sweet, he wanted to jump over the counter and kiss her.
No thinking about kissing.Snippets of last night’s dream drifted through his mind and he blinked away the images. He didn’t need the heat building in his body to show on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
