Page 31 of Faking Forever
He lifted a supercilious brow at her words, before casting his eyes around the desolate landscape, the message in the pointed gesture crystal clear.
“I followed my GPS’s directions,” she pointed out, offended. “It’s not my fault it led me down this hell road.”
“You shouldn’t have been driving in the first place.” She gasped indignantly at that bit of casual misogyny and he rolled his eyes. “You hate driving, Kenna. That’s hardly a secret. So what thefuckmade you tackle a seven-hour drive on an unfamiliar route?”
He planted his hands on his narrow hips and turned fully toward her, still looking unbothered by the sweltering heat.
“In fact, why are out here at all? I don’t want you here.”
Kenny blinked rapidly in an effort to clear the suddenstinging mist from her eyes, and managed to contain the small moan of pain and despair lodged in her throat.
“Don’t worry, Smith, you’ve made that abundantly clear,” she said, her voice wobbling alarmingly.
Don’t you dare cry, McKenna! she admonished herself sternly. She’d kept the worst of her emotions from this man for the entirety of their marriage. Her fear of vulnerability shut him out completely. Letting him see her fall apart now, when it was too late, would likely—quite justifiably—confuse and frustrate him.
He was already watching her with a baffled wariness that told her that he’d probably spotted that sheen of tears.
His hands fell from his hips and he took a small step toward her when Harris’s voice finally drew his regard from her.
“Smith, grab a spade will you?”
“On my way,” Smith replied, and Kenny watched as he retrieved a couple of spades from the back of his car and joined his friend who was standing beside her rental.
The two men stood staring at her sunken back tire, heads bent as they conferred with each other. Harris was pointing and Smith nodded as he decided that his friend’s plan of action was best.
Kenny pulled her legs into the car and shut the door, enjoying the blast of coolness from the functioning air conditioner, while continuing to watch the two men. Physically, they were evenly matched, tall, lean, clearly fit. Kenny knew that they used to play tennis together several times a week before Harris moved to Riversend to be with Tina. Harrison Chapman was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.
While Smith… Kenny’s gaze was helplessly drawn to her husband. Smith was ruggedly beautiful. His hair was longer than she’d ever seen it, making the copper highlights in that thick, wavy dark blond mane more obvious than usual. He was sporting at least three days’ worth of scruff on his strong, square jaw. The stubble glinted a lighter shade of blond than the hair on his head.
Everything about him was so heartbreakingly familiar, while simultaneously frighteningly different. She’d hoped that time and distance would soften the granite resolve she’d seen in him during their last conversation. Instead, that antipathy appeared to have solidified into loathing.
She’d heard it in his voice during their earlier phone conversation. But to actuallyseeit…
The dull ache in her chest intensified into the sharp, vicious thrust of a sharp blade into her vulnerable flesh.
It took everything in her not to curl up in agony right there.
Keep it together, McKenna! She kept repeating the mantra over and over in her head, sometimes even whispering the words into the cool silence of the cabin.
It wasn’t helping. Her breathing became more ragged with each passing moment as she strove to maintain some semblance of composure.
She knotted her fingers together in her lap and kept her eyes trained on them, absently noting that her nails were a wreck, chewed to the quick and—thanks to the fact that she’d been unable to stop herself scratching at her bug bites—filthy from the grime that had collected on her skin. Her hands were always immaculate. Nails neatly trimmed, usually only sporting a clear varnish, and kept scrupulously clean. As a surgeon she was almost fanatical about it.
These hands, white knuckled and filthy, looked like they belonged to a total stranger. Everything about her felt unfamiliar. Alien. Too many swirling, painful emotions. The impulsivity of her decision to come here. The absolute devastation she felt in now knowing that her marriage was truly over and that Smith hated her. Smith, the only man she’d ever…
Her thoughts screeched to a halt.
Ever what?
She moaned. Not willing to finish the thought. Not now, when it was too late.
“Kenna!”
She jumped, head jerking up at the sound of his curt voice right beside her.
He was at the passenger side of the vehicle where he’d opened the door without her even noticing. She’d been so busy staring down into her lap, thoughts turned inward, that she hadn’t been paying attention.
“What? Sorry.”
