“I have to go,” she panted, before leaning in for another kiss.
“Okay,” Carter managed to get out before pulling her close again.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” A man speaking from the stage finally managed to break them apart. Carter grinned as Kenzie blushed prettily, squeezing his hand before returning to her seat across the room.
“It’s a very special night here at Riley’s,” the man continued. “This is the first time we’ve hosted a poetry reading, and from this turnout, I can tell you it won’t be the last.”
The room broke out in low chuckles before he continued. “I’d like to introduce you to the man who’s made all of this possible, but I know he really needs no introduction. Please welcome, New York Times bestselling author, Jackson McKay!”
Loud applause echoed against the walls as a tall, lanky man with a ponytail made his way to the microphone. He nodded at the crowd, obviously used to the adulation. Carter hadn’t read any of his books, but knew that McKay was a successful writer. Of course, in Carter’s world, Kenzie was even more successful.
Take that, Jackson McKay, he thought with a slight smirk.
“Thank you,” McKay said finally. “Thank you for the warm welcome, and for coming out to support these up and coming writers.” He waved a hand toward Kenzie’s table and the applause began again.
The night was entertaining, for the most part. McKay made a point of saying something about each of the students before they took the stage to read their work. Some of it was quite impressive. Some, not so much.
Carter had to swallow his laughter when a middle-aged man named Tony recited a rather graphic poem heralding the advantages of loving a plus-sized woman. When he actually used the phrase, more cushion for the pushin’ with longing in his voice, Carter cleared his throat to cover his chuckles. As he gazed around the room, he found several other people in the same predicament.
Finally, it was Kenzie’s turn.
“Mackenzie Reed is a rare talent,” McKay said with a fond glance toward Kenzie.
It almost seemed . . . too fond.
Carter stiffened, his eyes narrowing.
“She came to me at a seminar I taught in Portland a month ago, and I knew hers was a gift that needed nurturing if it was going to flourish.” McKay smiled at Kenzie, who blushed under the praise. Carter felt an instinctive tightening of his muscles, a primeval craving to protect what was his.
He knew in that instant that Jackson McKay wanted his wife. He felt a rage unlike any he’d ever felt before rear up inside of him, and he clenched his teeth tightly shut, fearing if he didn’t that an actual growl would burst through his lips.
He tore his eyes from McKay, no longer listening to what he was saying. He found Kenzie watching him with concern in her eyes.
Carter took a deep breath. This was an important moment for Kenzie, and he would not ruin it for her. He forced an encouraging smile and began to applaud as McKay called her to the microphone. Carter fought to maintain his composure as McKay hugged Kenzie quickly before leaving the stage.
He’d deal with that guy later.
“Thank you, Jackson,” Kenzie said in a quiet voice, clearing her throat nervously. “And thank all of you for coming. This is a poem I call Light. It’s . . . it’s for Carter.”
Carter blinked in surprise and sat up a little in his chair, all thoughts of Jackson McKay forgotten as Kenzie unfolded a sheet of paper and began to read.
Our love began long ago . . . in the sunrise of our lives
When everything was bright and new and filled with warm rosy light
We laughed in the heat of our passion and smiles
Two moving as one . . .
Living as one . . .
Loving as one.
Her gaze flashed up briefly to catch his, a small smile lighting her face. Carter smiled back, mesmerized by her.
But all too soon, the light grew dim . . . as shades and shadows fell
A darkness-built wall erected between us, bricks of indifference and complacency
And we were lost
Two moving as two . . .
Living as two . . .
Loving . . .
No . . . not loving.
Just two.
Carter felt a lump in his throat and he could hear Kenzie’s voice shaking slightly as well, although she kept her eyes firmly focused on the paper. Her fingers gripped the edges of the sheet and she took a deep breath before continuing.
And yet . . .
The wall, the darkness, was not impenetrable.
A ray of light shown through . . . warm and rosy and glowing.
Light shattered bricks one by one, grinding them to dust.
Until all that was left was the intensity of the light’s heated rays
Glistening and shining on my skin . . . sparkling in my eyes.
She looked up, tears streaming down her face as she met Carter’s gaze. He was surprised to find his cheeks were damp as well. She smiled triumphantly as she read the last line.
The light was you.
Kenzie stepped down from the stage to hugs from her classmates and resounding applause. Carter continued to clap as he approached her, ignoring the crowd, his eyes focused only on Kenzie. He came to a stop in front of her, reaching out tentatively, then pulling her close.
“My God, Kenz, that was incredible,” he murmured in awe.
“You really liked it?” she asked.
Carter released her so he could look in her eyes. “It was beautiful,” he said earnestly. “Really, Kenzie. I loved it.”
“Told you so,” Jackson McKay said with a wide grin, looping his arm over Kenzie’s shoulders. She shrugged uncomfortably and his arm slipped off. McKay seemed not to notice and tucked his hand into his pocket instead. “You have real talent, Kenzie,” he said. “You get a manuscript completed and I’m going to set up a meeting with my agent.”
“Really?” Kenzie’s eyes widened.
“Absolutely,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and effectively blocking Carter out. Carter stood close by her side, his fists clenched. “I believe in you, Mackenzie,” McKay said, squeezing her shoulders slightly. Carter’s eyes narrowed at the movement of the man’s fingers. He really didn’t want to ruin this moment for Kenzie, but the guy was crossing a line.
“Thank you, Jackson,” Kenzie said quietly before stepping toward Carter and wrapping her arm around his waist. Once again, McKay’s arms fell to his sides and Carter fought a smug grin.
“This is my husband, Carter,” Kenzie told him. “Carter, meet Jackson McKay.”
“Ah, the famous Carter,” McKay said with a knowing grin. “Almost let this one get away, did you?” He chuckled, but Carter caught the glint in his eye. The glint of challenge. The glint of warning.
“Almost being the key word,” Carter said pointedly as he shook the man’s hand, a warning of his own in his gaze.
“Well, I need to go mingle,” McKay said, ignoring the challenge. “Kenzie, are you going to stay around for drinks?”
She shook her head. “No, Carter and I are going to have something to eat and then head home. Early day tomorrow.”
McKay nodded. “Very well. I’ll be in touch,” he said, turning to walk to the bar.
“That guy’s an ass,” Carter muttered without thinking.
“Carter.” Kenzie rolled her eyes. “He’s helped me a lot.”
“I’m sure he has.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Carter took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to get into this now. “Nothing. Let’s get something to eat.”
“No, don’t do that, Carter,” Kenzie insisted, pulling him over to a quiet table. “If something’s bothering you, we need to talk it out.”
Carter eyed her carefully. “I don’t want to argue here.”
“We don’t have to argue,” she pointed out. “We could discuss it.”
Carter chuckled humorlessly. “I don’t know about tha
t.”
Kenzie smiled. “Try me.”
Carter considered it for a moment, then said slowly. “It’s McKay. That guy has more on his mind than your writing talent.”
Kenzie blinked in surprise. “You can’t be serious.”
“I saw how he looks at you, Kenzie. He’s definitely interested.”
Kenzie flushed, her voice trembling slightly. “That’s pretty insulting, Carter.”
“Insulting?” That was definitely not the response Carter was expecting. “How is that insulting?”
Kenzie glared. “That you’d think Jackson McKay could only be interested in my body. That there’s no way he could actually think I’m a talented writer.”
“That’s not what I said,” Carter fought to keep his voice low. “You are a talented writer. But that’s not why he feels it’s necessary to keep touching you.”
“For God’s sake, Carter,” Kenzie groaned. “He’s only being friendly.”
“That’s what they call it now?”
“Carter!”
“No, don’t downplay this, Kenzie,” Carter said through gritted teeth. “I’m not being ridiculous. That guy wants you and he’s made it very clear he’s going to go after you.”
“Clear to who?” Kenzie asked, mystified.
“To me.”
She stared at Carter like he’d grown a third head. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“You didn’t hear that little almost let this one get away dig?” he asked.
“Really, Carter? That’s what all this is about?” Kenzie gaped. “You don’t think maybe you’re overreacting just a teensy bit?”
“Don’t mock me, Kenzie.” Carter stood up abruptly. “Look, I don’t think this is the place for this conversation. Let’s go. We can talk about this at home.”
Kenzie bristled slightly. “What if I’m not ready to go?”
Carter’s shoulders fell. “Well, so much for discussing without arguing,” he muttered.
At that, Kenzie exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. You didn’t want to talk about it and I dragged it out of you.”
“I didn’t really fight you too hard on it,” Carter admitted. “The guy seriously pissed me off.”
Kenzie laughed slightly. “Look, I still think you’re overreacting . . .” She held up a hand when Carter opened his mouth to argue, “. . . but I’m willing to hear you out. You’re right, though. This isn’t the place.
“Why don’t I stay for a bit, say goodbye to my classmates, and pick up some takeout. You can go home and relieve Lydia. When I get there we can eat and really have a discussion.” She emphasized the word and made Carter smile.
“Sounds good,” Carter said before leaning in to kiss her . . . softly at first, but when he saw McKay watching, he couldn’t resist making it a little hotter. He left Kenzie dazed and breathless, and walked to his car with a little spring to his step.
He was almost back to Woodlawn when his phone rang.
Recognizing the number, he answered quickly. “Kenzie?”
“Carter, uh, something’s happened.”
“What is it? Are you okay?” He pulled over to the side of the road quickly. “Is there something wrong with the car?”
“No, the car’s fine,” she replied. “I’m fine . . . it’s just . . .”
“Kenzie, what is it?”
“Remember—I’m fine,” she said again firmly. “And Carter, please don’t say I told you so,” she added.
“Kenzie, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” he said frantically.
“I’m in the ER,” she said on a heavy sigh. “I’m okay, but I think I broke my hand.”
Carter had flipped a U-turn and was barreling back down the highway before he asked, “How in the world did you break your hand?”
Kenzie hesitated briefly before sighing again and replying, “I punched Jackson McKay in the jaw.”
Carter ran through the doors to the emergency room, waiting impatiently at the check-in desk as a woman with a crying baby paid her co-payment. When the exhausted woman finally turned to find a seat in the crowded waiting room, Carter leaned onto the counter anxiously.
“My wife is here,” he told the woman. “Mackenzie Mon—Mackenzie Reed,” he corrected quickly. “Can you tell me where she is?”
The nurse clicked some keys on her computer. “Ah, yes, Mr. Reed,” she said after a moment. “The doctor’s just finishing up with your wife. You’re welcome to have a seat, or if you’d like to join her—”
Carter didn’t let her finish. “I’d like to join her. Please,” he added at the woman’s raised eyebrow.
The nurse smirked. “Through the doors, second curtain on the right,” she said, pointing at a set of swinging doors.
“Thank you,” Carter replied before following the woman’s instructions. He found Kenzie sitting on a gurney, a petite redhead in scrubs bent over her arm, adjusting a splint. Kenzie looked up as he approached.
“Carter!” she exclaimed cheerfully. “You’re here!”
“Kenz, are you okay?” He reached out to touch her, but then pulled back quickly, worried he might hurt her.
“I’m fine!” she waved her good arm, then seemed distracted by the movement, watching closely as her arm waved back and forth.
“Doctor?” Carter turned to the red-haired woman. “What’s wrong with her? Did she hit her head?”
The doctor smiled up at him. “I assume you’re Mr. Reed?”
“Carter,” he corrected.
“Well, Carter, Kenzie here is just fine. She’s got what we call a boxer’s fracture,” the doctor explained. “It’s not too bad. No need for a cast. She’ll just need to wear this splint for a few weeks to give it time to heal.”
“I punched Jackson, Carter,” Kenzie interrupted. “I punched him good.” She swung her uninjured fist, almost falling off the gurney.
“Yeah.” The doctor laughed. “She was in quite a bit of pain when she got here, so I gave her a little something.”
Kenzie held her thumb and finger an inch apart, squinting at Carter between them as she whispered, “Li’l something.”
Carter’s mouth lifted in a half-grin. “You feeling okay, Kenz?”
“I feel great!” she exclaimed, blinking widely. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” he replied on a laugh, turning back to the doctor. “When can I take her home?”
The doctor signed a prescription pad, ripped off a slip, and handed it to Carter. “She’s all done. You’ll want to get that filled before you go home. Once the medication wears off, she might need it.”
Carter nodded, tucking the slip in his pocket and thanking the doctor. He reached for Kenzie’s arm. “You ready to go home?”
“Yup!” she said cheerfully, hopping to the floor. Her knees buckled and she fell into Carter. He caught her easily.
“Oops.” Kenzie giggled.
“I’ve got you, baby,” Carter murmured, helping her out of the curtained area.
“I love it when you call me baby,” she whispered back.
Carter kept his arm wrapped tightly around Kenzie’s waist as they left the hospital. The nurse at the check-in desk had assured him it would be all right to leave the minivan overnight as long as he returned the next day to get it.
“I can drive home, Carter,” Kenzie had protested.
“Kenzie, you broke your hand, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
He helped Kenzie into the car, reaching across her to buckle the seatbelt. He jumped slightly when he felt her mouth on his neck.
“You smell so good,” she said against his skin.
“Thank you.”
“Really, Carter,” she said earnestly. “You smell amazingly good. I could smell you all day.”
Carter chuckled. “Well, you can smell me anytime.”
He got into the driver’s seat and backed out, turning toward home. He glanced over to see Kenzie watching him closely, her eyes slightly glazed.
�
��You’re so hot,” she said.
Carter smirked. “You’re so high.”
“I mean,” Kenzie continued, not hearing his comment, “you were hot when I first met you. I mean you were all tall and brooding and intense and handsome. But now . . . now you’re even hotter. With the scruff and the shoulders and the—You’re like inferno-hot.”
Kenzie rambled on, her words slurring slightly. “Sometimes I see you, and I just want to climb on . . .”
Her voice trailed off and Carter looked over at her. Kenzie’s eyes were closed and she snored lightly.
“Sleep tight, Slugger,” he whispered before turning back toward the highway.
Kenzie woke with a start when Carter pulled up in front of the house. He’d stopped at an all-night pharmacy to pick up her prescription, and stuffed the bag into his pocket before rounding the car to help Kenzie out.
“Carter?” she mumbled. “My hand hurts.”
“I know, baby. Come on, let’s go inside.” He led her carefully up to the front door, unlocking and shoving it open with his foot before helping her in. He’d called Lydia from the hospital and knew she’d be sleeping on the couch. Kenzie’s wooziness had worn off, but he still supported her as they made their way upstairs and into their room.
“You were right about Jackson. He is an ass,” Kenzie said with a wince as she sat down on the bed and leaned back onto the pillows.
Carter stiffened, but tried to at least put on a façade of calm. “What did he do?”
“Tried to kiss me.”
“And you punched him?” Carter couldn’t keep the proud smirk off his face.
Kenzie shrugged. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Carter sat down on the edge of the bed. “You are a formidable woman, Mrs. Reed,” he said with a grin.
“Are you mad?” she asked.
“At you? No. At him? There are no words to describe the depths of my fury.”
Kenzie grinned. “You’re mighty formidable yourself, Mr. Reed.”
“Don’t you forget it.” He reached out to touch her hair. “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”
Second Chances Page 12
