My mouth releases its scowl when she taps each of my fingertips with a correspondingboop.
“And these.” Her voice shifts into astonished tone as she flips my hand to run her thumb over the calluses on my palm. “These feel so good against my waist.”
A flush starts at the base of my spine and runs backward until my neck pricks with pins and needles. This morning, we’d barely made it out of the house because Kenzie came bounding into the kitchen wearing the clothes I had my personal assistant drop off for her. I don’t golf other than participating in the occasional charity event, so I’d simply thrown on the Waves polo and navy golf shorts I’d worn last time.
Kenzie’s white polo with pink-tipped collar matching her pleated pink golf skort almost made me swallow my tongue. I stood there, speechless, while she told me how excited she was about playing golf, pulling her hair into a high ponytail. Though I obviously appreciated the way the sporty clothes hugged her curves, it was Kenzie’senergythat I’d missed. I felt like a man who’d been living in shades of gray for the last nine days, and Kenzie was a technicolor rainbow.
As she tugged on her white visor, her polo rode up just enough to reveal a hint of freckled skin. That was when mywillpower snapped. Without thinking, I rushed across the room, slipping my thumbs beneath the hem of her shirt and crushing her lips with mine.
A knock on the glass door to the ER room pulls me out of my memory.
“Oh no.” Kenzie drops my hand. “The principal is here.”
I can’t help the chuckle escaping me. “We’re in the hospital, remember? There’s no principal.”
“Look busy,” Kenzie tells me, straightening her blankets. “Where is my darned pencil?”
A staff member pushes back the privacy curtain, letting themselves in. “How are we feeling, Ms. Rogers?”
“Oh, you’re not—” Kenzie giggles, waving her hand in front of her face.
The twenty-something man smiles until he catches sight of me, freezing for half a second before striding toward the various monitors hooked up to Kenzie and surveying them.
“I see the swelling has gone down a little bit,” he says with a grin, trying to focus on Kenzie but sneaking glances at me.
“Where’s Rose?” I ask, my voice gruff.
I liked the no-nonsense but warm composure of the older woman who’d started Kenzie’s IV on the first try. Kenzie had nearly been in tears, saying it usually takes six or seven tries. Rose’s weathered demeanor belied her obvious competence. This guy looks like a newborn fawn in comparison.
“She’s on lunch, so I’m looking after her patients. My name is Dylan.”
An unpleasant grunt escapes my throat as I continue to frown at him.
Look, I know I’m acting like a grumpy caveman when usually I’m the first to put everyone at ease. It’s just…nothing about today has gone to plan.
We were supposed to have a relaxing lunch and then fumble our way through nine holes of golf. Or rather, I was going to fumble. Kenzie would use that incredible brain of hers to figure out all the correct angles and crush me. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been looking forward to losing until I’d been on my flight home last night.
Between our golf game and the second event I had planned for this evening, I was going to finally break the news about Aaron over a shared container of her favorite ice cream. Hopefully the sugar and the exhilaration of whooping me in golf would lessen the sting of Aaron’s betrayal.
Instead, Kenzie is hooked to an IV, electrical wires crisscrossing over her patient gown, looking like someone who’s gone too far with lip filler.
Another knock and Dr. McAllister strides into the room.
“Hey, Kenzie,” she says, rubbing sanitizing gel between her hands. “I need to take another quick look inside your mouth, okay?”
She pulls a pen light from her scrub pocket and does a quick exam.
“The good news is things are looking better on the inside, but I’d still like to keep you a bit longer.”
“Okey dokey, artichokey. I’m fine as long as he’s here.” Kenzie shrugs while thumbing in my direction.
Then she places her hand beside her mouth like she’s going to whisper to Dr. McAllister, but everyone in the room hears her loud and clear. “He’s my fairy godfather in leg guards.”
“Is he now?” The doctor raises a blonde eyebrow.
Kenzie’s empathic nod can only be described as chaotically cherubic.
“I used to call him my supportive older brother, but I can’t say that now.” Her lips twist like she just took a bite out of a putrid lemon.
