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“For what?”
“For making us figure that out.”
“I didn’t make you do anything.” I shrug. “I just nudged you in the right direction.”
Kennedy sighs. “Well, whatever. I appreciate it nonetheless.”
“So, am I taking you back to the motel or what?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great. But I’m just gonna grab my stuff and come back here, but you’re right. I’m too tired to drive, especially when I’m still new to the city.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I guide her outside. I glance at the cars parked out front, but all I see is the red Corvette that was here last week, my Harley, a Jeep, and an older model sedan. I know the Jeep belongs to Jenny because I’ve walked her to her vehicle several times, so I start to turn toward the sedan.
Kennedy digs in her heels. “I’m right here,” she says, nodding at the Corvette.
My brows shoot up. “You’re living in a motel, but you’re driving that?”
She stiffens, her body going rigid against mine. “It’s the one thing that was all mine, other than the few clothing items and toiletries.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just…”
“You didn’t think someone like me would own something like that.”
Now it’s my turn to go rigid, and I twist to look at her. “Don’t put words into my mouth,” I growl. “All I meant was that you aren’t a flashy girl, and that’s a flashy car.”
“How do you know I’m not flashy?”
I take a step back and let my eyes travel the length of her body. When I look at her face again, I smirk. “Kennedy, you’re wearing jeans, a hoodie, and sensible tennis shoes. There’s nothing flashy about that.”
“Fair enough,” she acquiesces. She pulls a set of keys out of her purse and hands them to me. “Let’s just go.”
I open the passenger door for her, then walk around to the driver’s side. After sliding my large frame into the small sports car, with a few giggles from her, I turn on the engine.
“Her name is Ruby.”
“You named your car?”
“I did.”
“Fuck, you just keep getting better and better.”
Kennedy shakes her head. After she gives me the name of the motel, I pull away from the curb and head that way. Traffic is almost non-existent at this hour, so I easily navigate the city streets, both of us quiet for several minutes. She’s the first to break the silence.
“Would it surprise you to know I spent the majority of the last ten years in designer clothes and evening gowns?”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what was expected of me,” she says simply. “Between the country club, hosting dinner parties, charity functions, and church events, there wasn’t any occasion to wear something less…perfect.” She sneers the word, like it tastes dirty on her tongue.
“Forgive me for being dense, but didn’t you say you were brought up in the church?”
“Yes.”
“Now, I get that you didn’t specify what church, but last time I checked, most churches frown upon vanity and shit. How is it that yours had so many stupid fucking expectations?”
“The church I grew up in was different. It’s more like a—”
