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"You designed this, didn't you?" I asked her.
"I hope you don't mind, but Conor and Finn asked for my help."
"It is beautiful," I said because, well, it was.
Black cabinets lined the back wall with a massive, probably the biggest stainless-steel refrigerator I'd ever seen. A stainless-steel farmer sink overlooked the yard. A massive black island sat in the middle of the room. The counters were the whitest marble that brightened the space.
Three large pendant lights hung above the island. Steel stools lined the island. With a quick count, I saw there were eight of them. That was how large the island was. The wall to the kitchen and dining room was no longer there, leaving an open dining and kitchen combo.
They had replaced the old dining table with an ebony-stained farmer's table with four steel chairs on each side and a tall white back chair at each end of the table. There was no chandelier, just recessed lighting that lined the ceiling, making the room bright. I could hardly believe this was the home I grew up in; it was so different.
Finn came around the island and dropped his arm over my shoulder, bringing me in for a hug, but instead of letting go, he held me in tight with a kiss to my head. He asked how I was holding up. Finn was always the levelheaded one. He could always keep his cool, and even though he was a big guy covered in tattoos that could scare the average person, in actuality, he was kind and caring.
Don’t get me wrong. Inside he is raging with anger and would like very much to break the man in half that hurt his baby sister. It is a very good thing Brad lives in another state, although I would not put it past Conor to jump on a plane and snap Brad in half.
“Where’s Con?” I asked.
“He is outside manning the grill. We need to keep him busy, or he is going to kill someone,” Finn stated, like he knew what I was just thinking.
I noticed as Finn was hugging me that Chrissy had slipped outside. I’m not sure what’s with those two or when they became such close friends, but I made a mental note to ask her.
Finally slipping out of my brother's embrace, I turned and jumped when I saw him. I never heard the front door open and close, but at some point, he entered and was leaning against the door jamb staring. Ryan was very tall, over a foot taller than me. He was wearing worn-out ripped jeans with a white t-shirt that revealed his black tattoos underneath.
I had seen Ryan with no shirt on plenty of times, so I know he was rock solid under that white t-shirt with a very deep V.
I licked my lips to give them moisture, staring where I knew that V had begun. I brought my eyes up to his full lips and his crooked nose from being broken a few times. I then met his deep brown eyes that had these golden specks in them. His eyes had always been stunning. His brown hair was so short now from clearly a fresh buzz cut. Ryan was always clean-shaven, but now he had a tight brown beard that I wish was scratching my inner thighs.
I hadn’t seen Ryan since my daddy’s funeral. He sat beside me with his hand on my thigh, not a care in the world that Brad was on the other side of me. I think back to that moment a lot. Brad was my boyfriend, but Ryan was my soul. He just didn’t know it.
I was sure in his mind that he was trying to comfort me like I had comforted him when his mother was murdered in her home by a man she was in love with. Looking back at him, I saw his brown eyes burning through me. I immediately went back to the night we sat on our front porch and grabbed hold of his hands and held them. That night I saw that same fire in his eyes. He came so close to me I could feel his breath on my skin.
I thought for sure he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. He got up and left. My heart went with him that night and has always been with him; he just had no idea he was holding it. Ryan stared at me for so long I could feel the electricity run through my body. God, how could he do that to me with just a look? He had no idea the hold he has on me.
A few moments later, he straightened up and started to walk toward me slowly. I didn’t even see Finn leave my side, but he did because that was Finn; he trusted Ryan. He knew Ryan would protect me with his life, so Finn backed away and gave Ryan the space to come to me. As he got closer, I could feel the goosebumps forming on my arms.
He reached out and put his hand on my cheek, my bruised cheek. Then he stared directly into my eyes. It felt like he would never speak, but finally, he muttered, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
That sentence snapped me back to reality. He was not going to hug me or welcome me. Ryan was only seeing me as his best friend’s sister, the family he needed to protect. I pushed his hand away and flatly stated, “I’m fine,” as I walked away, not looking back at him, just exiting out the slider to head to the backyard. Both Conor and Chrissy stood by the grill. I placed a hand on Chrissy’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss Conor on the cheek.
My ribs were still bruised, so I moved into a sitting position with a squeak, trying my best to not show anyone my pain. Chrissy put her hand out for me to grab in an effort to help me up. We walked hand and hand back into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. With Conor at the head and Chrissy in the first seat with me beside her. On the other side of Conor sat Finn and Ryan next to him directly across from me.
I kept my head down, but I felt all the eyes on me, especially the deep brown, almost golden eyes that set my insides on fire. "Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look at him," I kept saying to myself, but the urge was too strong, and I lifted my eyes up to those eyes staring directly into mine.
“Kenna, we can grab your stuff in the morning and bring it back here,” Conor said, pulling me from Ryan’s glare.
“What? No. I’m staying with Chrissy.” Turning my neck to look at Chrissy, I said, “I thought you were all right with me staying with you?"
Chrissy peeked at Conor, then back at me. “Of course, you can stay as long as you want. Conor, she is fine staying with me.”
“Fuck, Kenna, this is your home,” he said. “You should be with us. We’re the ones to take care of—”
“What the hell are you talking about, Con? I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself, and I’m staying with Chrissy,” I stated in a sharp tone.
His fork slammed to his plate and lifted his head, his usual ocean blue eyes now dark.
“I can see that,” he said.
My face snapped in his direction and then around to the table to everyone just bowing their heads. As I stood, scraping the chair legs on the hardwood floors, putting my hands on the table, and leaning over Chrissy, I glared directly at Conor.
