“I thought there’d be more time to prepare you for this. A whole car ride.” Was Tucker starting to sweat? A thin film of perspiration formed along his forehead. Kenzie had seen the man give a concert in a massive stadium. He never showed his nerves.
Nervous Tucker was a brand-new experience.
“Hello, Mrs. McKay.” Kenzie waved to the couple coming toward them.
They stopped. Tucker’s mom said something to his father. She was a hand talker. Talking with one’s hands probably wasn’t a good idea when balance was an issue, as illustrated when she lost her grip on one of the crutches. It smacked against the industrial-tile floor of the airport.
Frantic, his mother glanced to Kenzie then back to Tucker’s father.
Kenzie started toward her.
Tucker grabbed her arm. “No. You’ll draw attention.”
His father bent to grab the fallen crutch. His mother swung around back toward the sliding doors of the exit. She turned wide, the end of her crutch walloping Tucker’s father against the back of his head.
“Oh my God.” Kenzie froze.
“Find a distraction for the lady with the cell phone. Mom’ll be mortified if this makes TMZ.” Tucker handed off his cocoa and abandoned Kenzie to help his parents. His father was sprawled on the floor while his mother tried to help.
Tucker broke into a run.
Shit.
Kenzie glanced around.
A little girl tugged her mother’s arm and pointed toward Tucker.
There were times Kenzie could pinpoint the exact moment when a normal fan turned into a videographer for the highest Hollywood bidder. This was one of those moments. The mother paused only a split second before fumbling with her phone.
Kenzie needed a distraction.
She was about to be a distraction.
She glanced to the cocoa in her hands. Her bag was coming around the carousel. She balanced the cocoa on the arm of her chair and stepped toward the cell-phone-camera wielding brunette. She pulled off the baseball cap she’d worn on the plane, a curtain of red hair falling over her cheek.
“Are you from Colorado?” she asked the woman before she had a chance to do anything more than get her phone into her palm.
The woman stilled, her expression suggested she’d known exactly who Kenzie was the whole time.
She said nothing. The shock on her face said everything for her—she couldn’t believe Kenzie was speaking to her.
“This is my first time here,” Kenzie continued as though this were a normal two-way conversation.
Her bag moved closer.
“Are you…?” The woman asked. She was so not being subtle with her cell phone.
“Mackenzie Bennett. That’s me.” Kenzie stepped in front of the woman so she couldn’t easily get a photo of Tucker’s parents. “Would you like a photo?” She nodded to the phone in the woman’s hand with the open camera app. “I love doing selfies.”
She loathed doing selfies. But she’d take one for the team here. Team Tucker.
“Really?” the woman asked.
Kenzie nodded.
They got cheek-to-cheek comfortable. The woman raised the phone. Kenzie smiled huge. The shutter sound clicked on the app.
“Thank you so much!” The woman gushed, checking the photo.
