“And she’s as happy as a clam,” he said, completely unrepentant as he slung his arm around her shoulder, pulling her toward the rows and rows of padded folding chairs draped in black fabric. “Let’s find our seats.”
* * *
Nash stretched his arm over the back of the pew. He hesitated only a blink before allowing his hand to rest on Kenzi’s shoulder. She stared ahead, her eyes tight.
“And now we’ll have a few words from Raquel Donegal.” The priest looked over his half-spectacles to verify that Raquel was indeed on her way to the lectern before he vacated the space.
Raquel and Lunette had arrived together. Lunette’s daughter was not in tow. He’d wondered if they would have left Kenzi out too, and was thankful he was there so she had someone at her side.
They’d stuck together—quite literally—as they made their way to their assigned seats, greeting family along the way. He shook hands, offered condolences, and listened to a few short stories about Kenzi’s dad that made him wonder what the man would have thought of him being married to his daughter.
With his free hand, he reclaimed her fingers in his grasp. “How come she’s giving the eulogy? Isn’t it your responsibility as the oldest to set a good example for your sisters?”
His joke fell as flat as a pancake on the marble floor.
Kenzi’s knuckles turned white. “Dad was always so proud of Raquel’s debate trophies and scholarship offers. He thought it fitting that she deliver the eulogy. They spent hours writing it together—arguing and having a good time.” Her eyes glistened like diamonds, the unshed tears hovering as they had most of the day, but not falling.
The woman had the strength of a cement wall. His only worry was that when she did burst, the damage would be complete.
“I don’t think that by including her he meant to leave you out,” he offered.
She lifted a shoulder and then settled against his chest. He could feel her body expand and shrink with each breath she took and found himself falling into pattern with her—their breaths becoming one. In a way, this was exactly what he wanted in a marriage: being able to lean on one another, be close, share burdens. Too bad it was a job.
After Raquel’s speech, which was both funny and heartfelt, Lunette sang “Amazing Grace.” She had a beautiful alto voice that echoed all the way to the church spires and filled the building.
The priest was back, and Nash’s mind wandered to how nice it felt to have Kenzi tucked into his side. How long had it been since he’d held a woman? Years too long. And even before that, he’d never really taken the time to appreciate the sensations and emotions created by the soft caress of perfume or the tickle of her hair on his chin.
He thought back through the last couple of years, noting that beyond handshakes, he hadn’t had any positive physical contact. Perhaps that’s why he draped himself across Kenzi like a puppy waiting by the barbeque for a scrap. Having been given the green light to hold her, touch her, and even kiss her hair, he’d taken every opportunity. Like a man dying of thirst in the desert who had come upon a full canteen, he guzzled greedily.
Except he didn’t feel like he was taking anything from Kenzi that she wasn’t freely offering. Each time her fingers tightened around his, his desire to be all that much more for her, to protect her against the unpleasantness her family carried like designer purses, strengthened.
Weirdly enough, he didn’t feel out of place in the middle of her family.
Weird.
That alone could get him a free hour with his counselor. He didn’t need an hour in the cell with a guy with a notepad and a dull pencil. What he needed was to keep his head on straight and focus on the task at hand: corporate takeover. Before the day was through, he had to make up his mind about the vote. His heart was telling him to vote for Kenzi, to give her a scrap of happiness on her worst day.
His head was telling him to play it safe.
