Kenzie glanced at the screen. She looked fine. But fine didn’t cut it in this business. She sighed inside. Given that she had little makeup on and her hair was not even remotely camera ready, she could bet large sums of money she’d just madeIn Time’s “Worst Dressed of the Week” column.
Wasn’t Christmas fun?
8
Chapter Eight
Kenzie was “oohing and aahing” at the cell phone screen. She laughed and continued to block the direct line of sight to his parents. She wasn’t enjoying it though. Kenzie was a great actress, but he’d noted the concern on her face when she’d watched his mother accidentally beat the crap out of his father with her crutches. Now she protected his mother from embarrassment.
Tucker may not have been 100 percent falling for Kenzie before the trip. Even when she’d climbed right under his skin and kissed him at her front door. Even when he’d tripped over his own heart at Taylor’s party when Kenzie had been so vulnerable. Even when he’d read the words she was worried no one would like and had gotten a glimpse right into her soul.
Kenzie wasn’t a Hollywood fake. She was real—every part of the glamour and every bit of the down-to-earth. They were different facets to the diamond that she was.
But Kenzie taking care of his family? Yeah, he was about to be all in. The realization hit him in the solar plexus.
This was bad. This was not light.
When she did things like this, it made him believe that someone else in the crazy entertainment industry put others first sometimes. He got so fucking tired of having to watch his back all the time. No one ever did things like Kenzie had just done.
And she’d done it for his mother.
In front of his father.
His father, who was not a fool and would know exactly what had gone down.
Which meant, Kenzie would have both his parents tucked in her pocket. Along with an idiot cowboy who was the tiniest shove from tipping over the precipice of giving this pretty girl with sharp green eyes anything she ever asked.
“Let me get that.” Tucker grabbed Kenzie’s suitcase from the conveyer.
“We’re taking selfies. You should get in on this.” Her eyes sparkled at him, practically broadcasting what she’d done. She tugged off her coat and dropped it on the suitcase.
He couldn’t help himself, he ran a hand over her arm. Damn, her sweater was soft. Like her.
Deep breaths, Tucker.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Kenzie used animated gestures as she talked to the woman with the camera.
The woman paused an abnormally long time before she spoke. “Connie.”
Poor Connie’s mouth stayed open like, well, his mother’s had done when she’d caught sight of his starlet. Didn’t take much to understand why. Kenzie giving you her undivided attention was panic-inducing the first time. She had a way of looking at a person and making them feel like they were the only one in her world.
That kind of attention was addicting.
“Are you my daddy?” The little girl holding the woman’s hand tugged at his arm. Her face held the hope of a child at Christmas.
He took a close look at Connie. No, he hadn’t… “Uh. Ha. Negative.”
He scratched an invisible itch behind his ear.
Kenzie gave him side-eye. The edges of her eyelids crinkling just the tiniest bit.
“I’m so sorry. Ever since she read that book about a bird who goes around asking who his mother is, she asks everyone that question.” Connie knelt to the child. “Daddy’s at his meeting. Like we talked about.”
She mouthed an “I’m sorry” and hustled to grab a suitcase on the other side of the conveyor belt.
“Tuck?” His father’s voice rumbled behind him. “You gonna introduce your mother or what?”
He’d go with the “or what” option if that were truly a choice. As it turned out, his parents had decided to meet him at baggage claim and drive him and Kenzie to his ranch themselves. His brother was about to get an unpleasant phone call about follow-through. He’d promised to personally deliver Tucker’s truck. A two-hundred-dollar bottle of scotch had been negotiated in return for the delivery. Looked like Tucker and Kenzie had a night ahead of them with a bottle of expensive booze.
