“We work together,” Rolani said smoothly, taking the seat directly across from her father, the power position. “Very talented woman you raised.”
But her mother’s eyes kept flicking between them, and Kennedi knew she was filing away every detail, every micro-expression, every tell that screamed there was more to this story.
“Oh, you’re Giovanni’s friend and business partner,” her dad added.
“Yes, sir.”
“Man, I love the work y’all do. I need me something slick soon.”
Rolani slid a business card from his pocket and handed it to her father. “Come see me. It’s on the house.”
Kennedi coughed and glared at him as she moved toward the kitchen to fix him a plate. Two slices of meatloaf, turnip greens, mac and cheese, and creamed potatoes. It wasn’t until she set it in front of him that she realized what she’d done.
What the hell am I doing?
She’d served him like he belonged at her family table, like this was normal, like he’d earned that level of care and attention. Like he was her... her man. Her mother’s knowing smile from across the table confirmed she’d caught it too.
The knowing look he gave her made her cheeks burn.
“Thank you, beautiful,” he said, loud enough for her parents to hear the endearment.
Her mother elbowed her father, and Kennedi wanted to sink through the floor. This man was playing chess while she was playing Connect Four…exactly.
“Rolani, are you from Coupeville originally?” her mother asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Born and raised on the Southside. My grandmother, Pearl, raised me and my brother Robin.”
“Pearl Pracher?” her parents said in unison, recognition lighting both their faces. “We knew Pearl. Good woman. We were sorry to hear about her passing. Please accept our condolences.”
Kennedi swallowed.
Rolani was silent for a beat. When he spoke, his voice was lower. “I appreciate that. She was everything to my brother and me. Still is, in a lot of ways.”
Kennedi watched him compose himself when he talked about his grandmother. She’d only learned about Pearl two days ago at Luther’s, sitting in a booth while her friends filled in the blanks he’d never given her. Hearing him say it himself, to her parents, watching grief cross his face in real time, that was different. That was the version of the truth she should have gotten from him.
“How’s Monroe?” she asked softly, leaning over. “Your niece.”
His hazel eyes locked on her, steady, unflinching. He didn’t blink, didn’t move, just studied her until her bold mouth quieted and her shoulders twitched like she wanted to squirm. He wanted her to feel it, he was clocking everything.
“What?” she asked finally, her voice smaller than she wanted it to be.
“Nothing.” His reply was rough, voice catching before he cleared his throat. “She’s good. Real good, actually. Still sneaking snacks.”
The fact that she even remembered that quick call about Monroe warmed his heart. Most women couldn’t tell you his middle name, let alone give a fuck about his people. Kennedi had separated herself by miles. In his eyes, she was already in her own lane, but this? This put her galaxies away from the type of women he was used to. She wasn’t making it easy for him to walk away. Not that he wanted to.
The night wrapped up with her father and Rolani talking cars, her mother asking pointed questions that Kennedi deflected with increasing desperation. By the time Rolani stood to leave, she felt like she’d run a marathon. But she’d enjoyed herself.
“Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Walters,” he said to her mother. “It was excellent.”
“Call me Heidi. We’re family, and you’re welcome anytime, Rolani.” Her mother’s tone was warm, but her eyes cut to Kennedi with a look that said we’re definitely talking about this later. But for now, Kennedi had one job... get this nigga out of her parents’ house before they brought out the photo albums.
The sun was setting, crickets chirping in the distance, as she walked him out the front door. He deserved the riot act for showing up unannounced. Instead, she walked beside himin silence, arms crossed, trying to find the words for a fight she wasn’t sure she wanted to have. Because the answer to her question had been answered, he fit in just fine.
“You’re quiet,” he observed, clicking his key fob. The headlights of a sleek crimson pickup truck flashed in response. He leaned against the door, fighting the urge to pull her between his legs. “You mad?”
“What do you expect?” she finally said. “You just showed up at my parents’ house, Rolani. You can’t insert yourself into my life like that.”
“When it comes to you, I can do what the fuck I want. I gotta keep my eye on you, Ken.” He studied her face under the flickering streetlight. “Why you mad? It seemed like I fit in fine. Your daddy likes me. Your mama, too. I ain’t never met nobody’s parents before.”
