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I hold up my hands. “Wasn’t my intention.” I keep looking at her mouth. I have to stop, so I clear my throat and look away.
Suddenly, words I hadn’t planned on saying are leaving me and I have no idea where they even came from. “Do you want a drink?”
Kenna blinks at me, as if surprised. “Yeah. That would actually be nice,” she says in a low tone so as not to wake up Eli.
We head downstairs and I’m already kicking myself. I told myself I would keep this professional, and inviting her for a drink isn’t exactly professional.
What am I doing?
I just need the smallest amount of liquid courage. Just so I can tell her that I’m sorry and that I won’t ever do it again. Sure, I've already told her, but I don't want her to feel awkward here. I don’t want to feel awkward, either, thus the wine.
I have a bottle of nineteen eighty-two chardonnay that I’ve been saving for a special occasion, but I figure it’s time to pop it.
Kenna’s eyes widen as she picks up the bottle, looking at it. “This has to be a two-thousand-dollar bottle of wine,” she whispers.
“I got a good deal on it,” I tell her easily, pouring us both a big glass. I gulp at mine but she sips at first before groaning low in the back of her throat.
Something like electricity shoots through me. I’m just wearing a T-shirt and a pair of sweats but I’m hot under the collar like I’m wearing a three-piece suit all of a sudden.
“This is so delicious,” she murmurs, gulping more of it down.
I chuckle. “There’s plenty. I have two more bottles in the fridge.”
“Are you some kind of wine connoisseur?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“Not really. But I have a long-term client who owns a vineyard, and he often gifts me bottles like these.”
“It pays to be in advertising,” she mutters, looking at the glass of wine as if it’s made of magic.
I smile and finish my glass, pouring myself another. I’m a big guy and one glass isn’t going to grease the wheels of my social awkwardness.
“I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me and the kids,” I say earnestly, and Kenna blushes, smiling as she looks away. “I’m serious,” I say, searching for her gaze and finally catching it when she looks up.
“I’m grateful for the job,” she says. “And the kids, they’re so great, Derek. You’re such a good father.”
It’s my turn to blush, but I keep looking at her, not wanting to break eye contact. I want her to know how serious I am. “About the other day—”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it, Derek, really. It’s fine. Living in close quarters like this, things are bound to pop up.”
I hum in the back of my throat in response. “You think so?”
Kenna shrugs. “I mean, we’re both adults. We can handle it, right?”
My throat works and I pour myself another glass of wine. “I have to blame myself. I haven’t seen anyone else since Suzanna left.”
Kenna stares at me. “Wh-what? No one? Didn’t she leave—”
“Before Eli started walking,” I confirm, and Kenna whistles low under her breath.
“That’s a long time,” she says.
“Yeah,” I laugh softly. “So, I guess I’m just not very good at being around young, beautiful women.”
“I’m not that young,” Kenna complains. “Or that beautiful.”
I bite my lip, looking into her bright blue eyes. “I beg to differ.”
She looks nothing like her aunt, who’s a natural brunette with sharp, hazel-colored eyes. They’re both beautiful, but Suzanna’s beauty had always been slightly cold.
