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I had no idea how long I’d stared at the envelope, lost in thought, but the next thing I knew, thedoor opened and Kenzie stopped, startled. “Zeke.” She blinked. “What are you doing here?”
Dammit.She was wearing only a tank top and pajama shorts.Shortpajama shorts.
My dick swelled against my jeans, throbbing painfully against the fabric until I was forced to either stand or make an obvious move to adjust my raging hard-on. I gritted my teeth and chose to stand, holding the envelope out in front of me.
“Waiting to give you this.”
She furrowed her eyebrows and stepped forward to take the letter, the door closing behind her. The soft thud echoed like one more of my boundaries blowing up; after hiring Kenzie, I decided I wouldn’t be at Blooms after dinner hours. Anything that put me close to her—with an excuse to be close to her—late at night was a risk I wouldn’t take.
So, while I tried to spend most of my time in town, if I was at the house for any reason, dinner was my hard limit. My stroke of midnight so to speak. And I’d held to that invisible barrier until tonight.
Her fingers were careful not to brush mine as she took the letter. I watched her face, able to pinpoint the exact moment she realized what it was… and realized I knew what it was, too.
Her head snapped up. “How did you…”
“Callie gave it to me because she thought I already knew.”
“Zeke…” I watched her throat move as she swallowed, guilt creating a soft shadow over her expression.
“Why don’t you trust me?” I asked, my tone sharper than I wanted but it was damn hard not to feel hurt by the thought. “Have I done something—said something—”
“I do trust you!” she protested quickly, covering her mouth with her hand for a quick second before offering, “I just don’t want to take advantage of you—of everything you’ve already done to help me.”
A deep growl pushed through my lips as my feet carried me over to her, crossing all the invisible distance barriers I’d erected in my mind.
“You could never take advantage of me, Kenzie,” I swore roughly. “Ever.”
Her lips peeled apart, her eyes raking over my face like she wanted to memorize every inch of the expression on it.Maybe I’d said too much—revealed too much about how I felt about her in the way I spoke, but I couldn’t take it back now.
“No?” Her lip quivered. “Because since the moment I told you about Jake… the moment you offered me this job… it feels like you’re avoiding me.”
“We meet every morning—”
“For an hour before you practically run out of here and disappear for the rest of the day. Even the other girls have commented how strange it is that you’re not in your office from dawn until dusk,” she protested. “If you didn’t want me cleaning the gym, you should’ve just said. I could’ve found somewhere else, and I would’ve preferred that than feeling like you regret having to hire me and can’t stand being around me.”
I stared at her, shocked at what she thought, though I couldn’t fault her perception; it was the truth. I was avoiding her. Not because she was a burden but because she was the most exquisite temptation… but I couldn’t tell her that.
“I don’t regret hiring you,” I began slowly, scrambling for a better—but equally true—reason to give for avoiding her than the fact that she made my dick painfully hard and my thoughts impossible to control. “I have a hard time asking for help… and a hard time knowing what to do once it’s given.”
Not a lie.
“I guess that makes two of us,” she said softly and then added, “I’m sorry for not telling you about this.”
I shifted my weight. “Don’t be sorry. Just let me help you with this… with your son.”
She hesitated, and the pink tip of her tongue slid out, wetting her lips like it had the night on the porch. And just like then, my cock went from rock-hard to solid stone.
“Jake has beenwith my ex this whole time. Stan. The judge gave him full custody after I was admitted to the hospital.” She paused and something flashed across her expression. It took a second to recognize what it was because I’d hardly ever seen the emotion cross her face.Anger.In all the months she’d lived here, I couldn’t recall a single instance when I’d seen Kenzie angry.
Was she angry at herself because her drug habit had cost her her son? Was she angry at her ex for a reason she wasn’t sharing?
I remained silent, watching her finger travel the length of the envelope.
“I just want to see him.” Her voice cracked, and I could tell she was fighting off tears. “I want more than to see him, but this is where I have to start. With supervised visitation.” She made no move to open the envelope, instead staring at it like it was the barrel of a loaded gun.
“Are you afraid he’s going to say no?” I reached for the letter opener on my desk and extended my hand. “Here, let me.”
She handed me the envelope and answered. “No. Yes.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
