She appeared to consider that. “Is this why you’re so close with the people at Angel House?”
“We’re all doing variations of the same thing. We understand the demands. It’s nonstop, at least at this stage of the game. I’m hoping that will change in time.”
“Okay, I get that, but I’m still not seeing the problem.”
Will didn’t understand that. As far as he was concerned the problem was self-evident. “Kenzie, what’s happening right now is exactly what I’m talking about. We kissed. All I want to do is kiss you again, but I come with all sorts of baggage. So instead of kissing, I’m establishing boundaries so I can be fair to you.” And so he could handle how he felt about her. But he wouldn’t complicate the issue by admitting that.
“Why can’t we just kiss and leave it at that?”
God, what did he even say to that? “Because when I was kissing you, I wanted to be doing a lot more than kissing.”
“Me, too.” Her gaze sparkled. Her expression lit up with such amusement that Will couldn’t help but laugh.
His life really was a joke. And not a funny one.
“I don’t have a future to give, either, Will. I come with my own set of strings.”
“You’re talking about your attorney?”
She nodded, tousled red waves distracting him, making him yearn to feel their cool silk beneath his fingers again.
Definitely a joke.
“Do I need to be watching my rearview mirror?” Will asked. “Is he going to rear-end my truck because I kissed his girl?”
That appeared to tickle her, judging by her twinkling gaze. “I think his BMW would lose. You drive a really big truck.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Nathanial and I aren’t dating, so no worries.”
Will had been right all along. The attorney was a complete loser. “So where does that leave us?”
“Why can’t we keep doing what we’ve been doing?”
He’d been getting ready to make his move so he could get her clothes off. “What’s that exactly?”
“Getting to know each other, I guess.”
She didn’t sound too sure. He definitely wasn’t. “So we agree on no relationship? We’ll be what, then...friends?”
“I can do friends,” she said, and something about her admission sounded so wistful. “I’m really good at friendship.”
Will guessed there was more in that statement than he could know, but he was so busy looking to his own self-preservation that he decided to simply take her at her word. There wasn’t enough distance between them yet. Not nearly enough. His blood still pooled in his crotch, and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss that wistful expression off her face, prove that whatever was bugging her about friendship couldn’t be all bad. Friendship could have benefits.
He could handle getting to know her. He’d been doing that already, right?
* * *
“GIVE ME THAT glass right now, Kenzie.” Lou wasn’t even through Kenzie’s front door before she shifted her grocery bag and reached for the wineglass Kenzie held. “Depression needs something to perk you up, not sedate you. You’ll make things way worse with that.”
Lou made wine sound like a contagious disease.
“How can my favorite wine possibly make things worse?” Kenzie clung to the glass like a life preserver. As if her mood could even get any worse. Not likely.
“The thought of drinking wine is depressing me. Don’t you know anything about using alcohol as a coping skill?”
“Obviously not.” Kenzie gave in before the delicate stem snapped in her hand and she had pricey Malbec all over the foyer. “Can’t run the agency without you. Can’t tackle depression without you. Do you want a raise?”
Lou chuckled and made a beeline straight for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “I should run with this, right? But if I kick you while you’re down, then I’ll be depressed.”
That made Kenzie laugh, for the first time all week because her life had degenerated into two distinct phases—before kissing Will and after. The after phase marked the first time she’d ever followed her inner child’s urgings.
Only to reestablish that there was a very good reason she taught classes on learning to manage the inner child.
Lou tossed the contents of that freshly poured glass into the sink. Kenzie hadn’t even taken the first sip, had been allowing the Malbec to breathe when the doorbell rang.
Her favorite Malbec, thank you very much, Mr. White-wine-is-better. Or Mr. I-can-only-be-a-friend.
She shot across the kitchen before the rest of the nearly full bottle wound up following down the drain. She wouldn’t put it past Lou. “I’ll bottle this up for another night.”
“Good idea,” Lou agreed, setting the grocery bag on the butcher block counter. “I’ve arrived with emergency supplies.”
And Kenzie certainly could use them. Her mood had degenerated with every day that Nathanial hadn’t bothered to reply to her texts. Every night that Will hadn’t shown up after kissing her and saying, “I can’t ask if you want me to drop by one night when you don’t have a class. That would be too much like a date. So I guess I’ll see you around.”
In fairness to Will, he had seen her around. He’d caught her in the parking lot on Wednesday night before class to ask how the windowsills were going. He’d called her on Thursday to find out what her schedule was for the following week, so he could have his supplier deliver a new grid and panels for one of the ceilings. There had even been a note on the side door this morning telling her that he would have a crew coming in to take measurements for the stalls in the unfinished bathroom upstairs.
Not romantic. Not even the stuff friendships were made of.
But at least Will had made contact. Mr. White Wine, on the other hand, hadn’t bothered replying to her texts to let her know how his case was going. She wouldn’t even know he was still alive if Mom hadn’t mentioned that she and Mom Wright had gone to lunch and discussed him.
Thankfully, Lou distracted Kenzie when she started unloading the reusable grocery bag.
Vodka.
Rum.
Tequila.
Gin.
Blue Curacao liqueur.
Sweet and sour mix.
7UP.
At least the bottles were pint-size. Except for the 7UP, which was a whopping two liters.
“Are you expecting some friends you forgot to mention?” Kenzie asked.
Lou chuckled. “No. Girls’ night. You and me. And the piece de resistance. Ta da.” She held up a DVD copy of The Holiday. “Do you know I actually had to go to a video store to get this? Who knew they even still had those? It’s been out for a while. I can’t believe you’ve never seen it.”
“I can’t believe you brought along your liquor cabinet. Those are the emergency supplies?”
“They are, and you had better be nice, or I’ll take you up on that raise. If we have another week like this last one, you will drive me to drink. Or kill me. I haven’t decided which. No more trying to drown your sorrows in work, Kenzie. Now get me two glasses. Really big ones.”
There was no denying that’s exactly what Kenzie had been trying to do—forget the current state of affairs with her love life.
She had believed Will meant every word he said. What she couldn’t believe was that he had cast himself in the role of friend rather than seizing the opportunity to be her hero. Not forever. Not even long-term. But for
right then.
Or however long right then lasted.
A few weeks. A few months. She’d had no clue. She only knew that she’d decided to give in to her inner child and follow what she wanted rather than what made sense for the first time ever. It had never once occurred to her that Will would be the one to consider the consequences. She knew he was as attracted to her as she was to him. Any question about that had ended the moment they kissed.
He wanted more than kissing. He’d admitted that.
And so had she.
Her inner child had positively thrown a tantrum at being denied. But Kenzie’s adult understood Will’s restraint and respected it. A lot. Especially when it was nothing short of cosmic irony that after questioning Will’s integrity, he would be the one to practice what she preached.
But even Kenzie’s adult had a problem swallowing the whole friends again part, which had left the atmosphere at Positive Partings anything but positive.
Kenzie went to a cabinet, opened it, then shut it again. Depression was an occasion that called for her to break out the big guns. Two hurricane glasses stamped with Pat O’Brien’s logo from her and Nathanial’s trip to New Orleans while he’d still been in law school.
She needed to make a new memory.
“Perfect,” Lou said. “Fill them to the top with ice.”
Kenzie headed to the freezer door where the ice machine churned out enough crushed ice to fill both glasses. She set them beside Lou and watched in fascination and horror as Lou began cracking open bottles and pouring liquor into the glasses.
“This might be a good time to mention I’m not much of a drinker.”
Lou sliced a glance at the open bottle of Malbec. “Really?”
“I wasn’t going to drink the entire bottle, Lou. Speaking of...” Heading back to the china cabinet, she retrieved a bottle from one of a collection she kept specifically for damage control on unfinished bottles. Pouring the remainder of the Malbec into a smaller bottle eliminated room for the oxygen that did so much damage to the taste. She’d been known to keep a good wine evolving for up to a week this way, each glass different but still wonderfully drinkable.
It was a trick she had learned at a wine tasting in Napa Valley with Mr. White Wine.
She really needed some new memories.
Working at the butcher block, she gently poured the Malbec while Lou worked on the sweet and sour mix. Lou looked like a bartender, upending the bottle over the glasses, pouring liberally. She had the looks for it. With her petite build, gamine features and that adorable pixie cut, she looked the part of someone who would be the life of any party.
“You know most people eat popcorn on movie nights,” Kenzie commented.
“Oh, cut me a break. It’s Friday night. No work tomorrow plus man trouble equals one Adios Jackass coming up.”
Kenzie almost choked. “What?”
“You heard me.” Lou grinned. “Which means you’ll have to drink two, so it’s Adios Jackasses. Plural.”
“I’m actually a little scared right now,” Kenzie admitted. “You handle my clients’ sensitive information.”
“Ha,” Lou scoffed. “Can you say moonlighted as a bartender through college?”
“You know, somehow I guessed that about you.”
Lou drizzled 7UP over the top of each concoction. “We could have done the shooter recipe, but I’m not a big fan of Kahlua, to be honest.”
“You’re the expert.”
“Remember that. And I was not coming over here on a Friday night for popcorn and a chick flick. Maybe if someone had died...but not because you can’t manage your love life.”
“Unfair.”
“What’s unfair?” Lou narrowed her gaze and stared pointedly. “This is me you’re talking to here. Unlike your friends, I see you day in and day out. I have a front row seat to the derailment you call your love life. Wait. Let me qualify that statement. You have had a few highlights, but they’ve never involved Nathanial.”
“What on earth does that mean?”
“Even when you’re with Nathanial you guys are exactly the same. I mean, I don’t know what’s going on in the bedroom—”
“You’re right. You don’t.”
Lou rolled her eyes. “My point is that you’re just Kenzie and Nathanial. Always the same. No ups, no downs, no drama when you’re a couple. Now, watching you run around pretending not to notice our city councilman, on the other hand. The sparks are flying. That’s the sort of thing a love life is made of.”
“Oh, this night is going to hell really fast.” Kenzie couldn’t even make eye contact. She simply corked the wine bottle and took it to the refrigerator, where she hid until she’d wrapped her brain around the fact that she hadn’t been fooling anyone. How long had Will known that she became an absolute idiot around him?
She finally emerged when she heard Lou rummaging around in her silverware drawer. “What do you need?”
“Something long to stir these with.”
Kenzie produced an iced-tea spoon, which Lou used to gently stir each drink. Then she passed one to Kenzie.
“I do hope you brought an overnight bag,” Kenzie said. “Because there’s no way you’re driving home.”
“Way ahead of you. And for the record, I don’t wake up until at least ten on Saturdays. I like my coffee black and my eggs scrambled with lots of pepper. Preferably white, but I’ll settle for black if that’s all you have.”
“White it is.” Kenzie suddenly felt full inside, grateful for such a friend who cared like this.
Then there was no more time for embarrassment because Lou held up her glass for a toast. “Nathanial and Will...”
“Adios, jackasses!” they said in unison as they clinked rims then squealed with maniacal laughter.
Kenzie took her first tentative sip and found the drink surprisingly, and deceptively, not overly alcoholic tasting. “Not Malbec, but not bad. I might even get used to it by the time I get to the bottom of the glass.”
“Oh, you’ll not only be used to it, you’ll love it. Trust me.”
They settled into the living room for some serious movie watching. It didn’t matter that they were watching a Christmas movie in the middle of July. There was no possible way to go wrong with the exquisite and incredibly talented Kate Winslet and the gorgeous Jude Law.
Or Jack Black, who had been insanely hysterical in every movie she’d ever seen him in.
And what woman wouldn’t fall in love with Eli Wallach?
Kenzie was well into the second glass when she realized that Arthur Abbot, played so delightfully by Eli Wallach, had nailed the problem cold—her problem. And the issue wasn’t that Nathanial and Will weren’t heroes. The issue was that she wasn’t the leading lady of her life.
She was the best friend.
By the time Lou was curled up on the edge of the sofa, passed out with her chin on her chest and Kenzie staring into the bottom of her hurricane glass, she not only felt better—and rather drunk—but she had made a decision.
Unlike Jude Law’s character, Will might not have a cow as far as she knew. And he certainly didn’t strike her as a weeper, but he did have an adorable little boy and he made her feel alive in a way she’d never felt before. Ever.
She didn’t want to let this unexpected feeling pass without exploring the way she felt, without really living it.
She was tired of waiting. She was tired of always being the best friend and neve
r the leading lady. She was going to get some gumption.
* * *
WILL FOUND KENZIE hard at work at the windowsill in one of the session rooms. This was one of four windows lining the east wall offering a view of Main Street. Apparently she’d made good progress in the week since they’d kissed—he’d already been in the reception area looking for her, and the sills and trim on all the windows there were stripped and sanded, ready for her to decide whether she wanted to paint or stain them.
She was wearing the face mask and gloves exactly as he’d instructed, and he drank in the sight of her, jeans riding low and giving him a shot of her creamy skin. He savored the moment where he could appreciate her unobserved and drink his fill of the sight of her.
His careful restraint took an unfortunate hit. Her every fluid motion with the heat stripper—she certainly seemed to have gotten the hang of it—forced her to lean forward enough to make those low-riding jeans ride even lower, revealing her trim waist and the gentle slope of her hip.
The ponytail swung in time with her movements, reminded him of what her hair had felt like beneath his hands, tortured him with his purely physical response to this woman.
But he was an adult, Will reminded himself. He could handle this. He’d had a week to rein in his reactions and live all the valid reasons why he couldn’t become involved right now. And he had. For the most part. Having Sam at home again helped a lot. Life was back to normal. For the most part. That was exactly the reason he was here tonight.
To be a friend.
Still, he waited until she clicked off the heat stripper before he said, “Kenzie, it’s Will.”
She startled at the sound of his voice. Lifting away the mask, she said, “Oh, hey. How are you?”
Of course, the elastic bands got caught in her ponytail as she tried to lift the apparatus over her head. Two short strides and he was there to help. To touch.
“Sorry to disturb you,” he said. “Do you have some time to talk?”
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