Kennedi nodded, seeing a different side of him.
“You’re doing a great job with her. I’m sure,” she said quietly.
“Trying to.” He straightened. “Anyway, enough about all that. You got me in here playing housewife.”
“That couch is uncomfortable as hell. I’m getting you my good blankets and pillows.”
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
She didn’t doubt it.
She grabbed her spare bedding from the closet and made up the couch while he turned off the kitchen light. When she turned around, he was standing close.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For coming to take care of me today.”
“That’s what I do, Ken.” His hand came up, thumb brushing her jaw. “Somebody should’ve been showing up for you a long time ago. Since they didn’t, I’m here now.”
So she nodded and stepped back.
“Get some rest,” he said. “You look like Wanda from Holiday Heart.”
“So, a crackhead? You really know how to sweet-talk a woman.” She laughed walking off down to the hall to her bedroom.
“Get some rest,” he said. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
She climbed into bed and pulled the covers up, listening to him shift on the couch through the cracked door. Her journal sat on the nightstand she opening it to the unfinished sentence.
Rolani is?—
She picked up the pen.
Rolani is the only man who never waited for me to ask.
She closed the journal, turned off the lamp, and fell asleep to the sound of him breathing in the next room. For the first time in months, she didn’t dream about running.
Chapter Fourteen
Rolani was alreadyat the shop when Kennedi pulled up in that little Audi. Right on time.
He watched her through the window as she sat in her car for a moment, probably psyching herself up.
“Bout time,” he muttered, sipping his coffee, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
She stepped out in a black dress. The V-neck drew his eyes where they had no business going at nine in the morning.
From his office window, he watched her walk toward the building like she was really about to flip the switch and treat him like her boss. That was cute. She could try.
Her office was across from his—that wasn’t a coincidence. When she stepped inside and spotted not one but two flower arrangements on her desk, she stopped.
The first one, from Monday, was still fresh—white roses and peonies with a card that read:
Happy first day of work, baby – Ro
The second one, delivered this morning, was larger. Vibrant orange roses and red lilies.
She grabbed the new card:
