Checking to see if Kenzi had received his gift would open a door that was better left closed. He’d only sent the iPod because he couldn’t get the last thing she said to him out of his head. She was obviously a troubled woman. Clay saw it as clearly as he had. Whatever had happened to her, or was happening to her, was none of his business. She certainly wasn’t alone in the world. Hell, she had more family than most women had shoes.
Still, he was restless in the face of her unhappiness, and it was distracting him. He wasn’t a man who sent presents, not even to women he dated, but he’d wanted her to know he’d heard her.
Ridiculous.
She probably wants to forget her drunken ramblings as much as I wish I could.
Dax sat down at his desk and glared at his phone. Is a fucking thank you so hard?
He opened the file on his desk that contained her contact information and a brief background check on her. There was no great tragedy leaping off the pages. Nothing.
He slammed the file shut.
Forget about her. Focus on the resort and Poly-Shyn.
Nothing else matters.
Chapter Three
Kenzi caught her reflection in the glass that flanked the door of her parents’ home and paused. Her makeup matched her attire, subdued elegance. Silk blouse and matching slacks both tailored to a classic rather than a trendy cut. Her hair was neatly tied back. With armor fully in place, she forced a smile she’d cultivated from early childhood. Her oldest brother’s fiancée¸ Emily, loved game night and her father said that was part of the reason her mother was doing so well.
So suck it up, Kenzi. Look happy.
Her father, Dale, opened the door. “Kenzi, we were starting to think you’d fallen off the planet.”
Kenzi greeted her father with a kiss on the cheek. How she felt wasn’t his fault either. He was just as much a prisoner of circumstance as she was. He’d given up a career for her mother, Sophie, but his love for her was one thing Kenzi never doubted. “I meant to call you back. Sorry. Things came up and I . . .” Her voice trailed off when she met her father’s eyes. She’d never been good at lying to him. “I needed a few days on my own.”
Dale closed the door behind her and took her coat. “You know how your mother worries when she doesn’t hear from you.”
Kenzi forced a placating smile to her lips. “I’m here now and ready for a night of Monopoly or charades.”
Dale studied his daughter’s face for a moment. “Is there something upsetting you?”
Kenzi almost said yes, then she reined her honesty back. Her father didn’t want to know the truth. Wait for it. Wait for it.
He continued, “Because your mother is so happy lately. Let’s have a peaceful night.”
And there it is, the reason he asked if I’m okay. Not because he wants to know how I feel, but because he doesn’t want me to ruin game night with messy emotions or inconvenient anger.
One kind of lie came easily because it had been told so many times. “I’m fine, Dad. I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t.”
Dale pressed his lips together as if he wanted to say something but changed his mind. Then he said, “Game night is fun, isn’t it? It’s good for you to be spending time with your brothers and laughing.”
Gotcha: don’t forget to laugh. She linked arms with her father and started toward the living room with him. “Is everyone here already? And what’s on the calendar? Cards? Scrabble? A piñata?”
Her father paused and looked at her for a long moment.
Kenzi gave herself a mental shake. Whoops. Sorry, didn’t mean to let my feelings show there.
“Kenzi—”
“I know, Dad. Sorry.”
They started walking again and, as they entered the living room, Sophie rose and rushed over to hug her warmly. “Kenzi, I’m so glad you’re here.”
She wasn’t angry, and that added to Kenzi’s guilt. Kenzi might hate the circumstances that had changed Sophie; she could resent how fragile tragedy had left her mother and what that meant for their family—but Sophie herself? She was the single kindest, most loving person Kenzi had ever met. Hating her would be like hating a puppy for wanting to cuddle on your lap. “How could I miss game night?”
Emily waved from the couch. Kenzi waved back. Asher nodded from where he was standing, talking to Ian.
Lance, the brother closest to her age, came over and put an arm around her shoulder. “You’re on my team tonight. Have you ever played Scattergories? Looks like that’s the poison of the evening.” Kenzi’s eyes flew to his. He quickly said, “I’m kidding; it sounds fun.”
Whether he meant it or had said it to appease those who were listening, Kenzi didn’t know. It didn’t matter either way. The line between truth and forced reality had blurred a long time ago. “Does it matter which game we play as long as we kick a little ass?”
“Kenzi—” her father said in soft reprimand at her curse.
Asher laughed and said, “That’s the spirit, Kenzi. I knew there was a scrapper in you. Tell us how you really feel.”
Kenzi looked around the room at the happy expressions on everyone’s faces and imagined how quickly the evening would change if she actually said what was bubbling within her.
You want to know the truth?
I hate that you do whatever you want no matter what I say.
I hate that you canceled my show.
I hate that I can’t tell you how angry I am.
Why can’t we ever talk about how we feel?
I want to say his name.
I want to tell you I’m not the perfect daughter or the perfect sister you think I am. I want to lay all my ugly secrets at your feet and see if you still love me.
Kenzi took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts away. Stop being selfish. No, they didn’t love her the unconditional way she yearned for, but they weren’t bad people. Maybe they, like her, were surviving the only way they knew how.
Was game night good for them?
If we suffer through enough of these, like bad-tasting medicine, will we come out on the other side healthier?
After years of gathering for holidays and during their annual April week of denial, they were now gathering at least twice a month with the goal of simply enjoying each other’s company. Kenzi looked at Emily who was smiling warmly at her. Instead of feeling threatened by her, Kenzi told herself she should be grateful to her.
Find the good. Focus on that. Emily makes Asher happy. She makes my parents happy. She’ll probably be a wonderful mother for my nephews and nieces when they come.
I can do this. I can leave well enough alone.
Kenzi squared her shoulders and shook a fist playfully in the air. “I feel victory coming, that’s all I feel. Let’s get this game started.”
A laugh spread through the room, and they all sat down to play. As Emily explained the rules of the game, Kenzi pushed herself to enjoy the evening until she had almost convinced even herself she had.
She claimed she had an early morning the next day and left her parents’ home after the second round of Scattergories. It had been a successful evening measured by the level of happiness it had brought Sophie. They would get together again in a couple weeks and by then Kenzi was determined to be in a better state of mind.
She said good night to Josh at the door of her apartment, walked inside, and kicked off her shoes. She plopped onto the couch, leaned forward to pick up the iPod, and hit play. She sat back against the cushions and let the soothing sound of waves wash over her.
A small part of her felt guilty for not calling Dax Marshall to thank him for the gift. She could hear her father’s voice telling her he’d raised her with better manners than that. Calling Dax, though, would have forced her to face why he’d sent her the gift in the first place.
I can only imagine what I must have said to him for him to send this.
She’d considered throwing away the gift to help wipe that night completely away, but she couldn’t. There was something about the
message he’d sent along with the gift that made her feel less alone. It wasn’t only the sound of the ocean that soothed her; it was the fantasy that the man who’d sent it to her cared about her and how she felt.
He’d heard her.
She wasn’t ready to replace that fantasy with whatever truth she would discover during an actual conversation with Dax. He could have sent it out of guilt over something he’d said to her. Guilt was a powerful motivator. It always made her otherwise independent and powerful brothers drop everything when their father called. It was why Kenzi had moved back to Boston.
Not guilt. I like my version better. She held the iPod to her chest and closed her eyes, savoring the memory of Dax. Memories of the night were sketchy, but she would never forget how strong his arms had felt when he’d held her against him. The light scent of his cologne. It was one she recognized, and normally mildly liked, but on Dax it was heavenly. Her body hummed with excitement from the memory of being near him. It wasn’t like that most of the time. Usually she couldn’t put the past behind her long enough to think of a man that way.
I should thank him.
For the gift, not for my wayward thoughts.
She picked up her phone and did a quick Internet search. He had offices in several cities. She randomly chose one of them and decided to send him something small along with an acknowledgment that she’d received his gift.
No need to talk to him. No need to face the truth. Just a quick thank you, and it’s done.
Another week passed and Dax had mostly pushed Kenzi out of his head. He’d stopped waiting for a response from her, stopped wondering why she hadn’t contacted him, and had taken two different women out on dates to prove to himself that he didn’t care if she ever did.
