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I strode into the hall and made it to the kitchen in seconds. All the lights were off, only the open fridge illuminated the space.
And her.
“Zeke,” Kenzie squeaked from where she kneeled on the floor.
My gaze snapped to hers. Her eyes that were normally a shade of violet in the sun were now a foggy blue in the low fridge light. Her pale-blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she had on a pair of black scrub pants and tee, both of which had been donated to the house, and a pair of sneakers.
After a long day, it was damned criminal just how beautiful she looked in the refrigerator light.
It only took a moment to see what had happened. There was a grocery bag on the counter and a dozen small yogurts scattered on the floor, one of them damaged in the fall, leaving a clump of spilled yogurt on the tile.
“Sorry for the noise,” Kenzie said, her voice carrying that husk it always did at the end of the day when her energy was flagging.Something else I shouldn’t notice about her.“I thought I could carry all of them—”
“Let me help.”I covered the space between us in two steps, taking the yogurt cups from her hands before she could protest.
Her shoulders were slumped. Her eyes hooded. And her grateful smile didn’t quite reach her eyes like it normally would.How many businesses had she cleaned today?Three?Four?I was going to have to say something to her about work. Residents were encouraged to have part-time jobs, but not at the expense of their health. I understood wanting to get back on her feet—wanting to start that new life, but this was too much.
Recovery was fragile even for the strongest of people. She needed to give herself some grace.
One after another, I loaded the small cups into my big palms, carrying twice as many as she was able to the fridge. As I stacked them onto the top shelf, I noticed they were all plain Greek yogurt.
“You know, they have larger sizes of this yogurt you can get,” I said. “It’s cheaper to buy the big ones.”
Most of the women took part-time jobs after the third month in order to start building their savings. One of the first lessons we offered was on financial security and the importance of having a safety net. I wasn’t in the class, but I’d overheard Kenzie reviewing the information with some of the other women after the fact, adamant that it was important to be frugal until that safety net was built.
“It’s okay, I like the small ones,” Kenzie said as I took the remaining few from her hands and added them inside.
My brow creased.Strange.The Kenzie I’d overheard would’ve absolutely insisted on the large yogurt if it saved money, so why had she bought the more expensive ones?
The answer was none of my business.
She took a paper towel from the roll and crouched to wipe up the mess on the floor.
I should’ve let it go, but I couldn’t. “Are you worried about someone taking your food?Hassomeone been taking your food? Because we have firm policies, and if someone is disrespecting them—”
“No,” Kenzie claimed, frantically shaking her head and scrambling to stand just as I’d started to close the fridge door. “It’s just easier—” she broke off with a cry, her head whacking into the door with a sound that made my entire body cringe.
“Shit.” I reached for her, catching her as she reeled from the blow. Heat burst over my skin the instant my hands closed on her shoulders, the urge to pull her close as powerful and destructive as a wrecking ball through my restraint. “I’ve got you.” I steadied her.It was a mistake to hold her, but it was a danger to let her go.“Look at me. Are you okay?”
She nodded, but her eyes blinked rapidly so the tears wouldn’t fall.Dammit.I didn’t want her to hold back her tears, but I wasn’t in a position to comfort her. Not really.Not at all.
I lifted my fingers to her chin and tipped her head up. A lighter touch but still just as dangerous as her gaze met mine, something else swirling underneath the wash of tears that made her lips part.
I should pull away. She should pull away, too. But neither of us did—as though we both just wanted this single moment to take for ourselves.
But that was impossible. There was nothing about Kenzie Barrett that could be mine.
“You sure?” My traitorous voice turned husky as I dropped my hand and drew back.
“Yeah.” Verbal confirmation this time, except when she went to nod, her body started to sway.
“Or not,” I declared low and reached for her again. “You need to sit.” But the nearest chair was at my desk. “I’m going to carry you to my office, okay?”
I heard her breath catch and part of me hoped she’d protest, but she didn’t.
“Yeah, sorry.”
I ignored her apology. It was unnecessary.
