Presley Ann laid her hand over his pectorals, clearly delineated through his thermal shirt. “Kendry?”
“Yeah?” he asked as he reached out and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, sending a shiver zipping down her spine.
“Please don’t think I’m being silly, but have you considered that what you think you’re feeling for me is really just…the residual connection between Leah and Patterson?”
“You mean like a physical or psychic connection pulling me to Divine because the original owner of my heart was in love with your sister?”
Heat rushed up her neck and she looked down as she nodded. Her fear that the universe was playing some big cosmic joke on her by sending not one but two men to tempt her into losing her heart was very real to her, no matter how silly it sounded.
Tilting her chin so she would look up at him, Kendry said, “Trust me, kitten, I know what I want. It’s just a matter of time for you to decide what you want.”
She could feel his heart beating strong under her hand, and the heat growing in his eyes matched the determination in the set of his jaw as he placed his hand over hers, holding it in place.
“Feel that? I know who my heart is racing for right now. And as nice as your sister and her men are, it’s not her or them that I’m feeling…or wanting.”
She was about to ask why, with her heart in her throat, but the wind gusted up and she realized that she still standing with the door beside Whit’s car seat open.
Kendry backed away and said, “Please be careful.”
She nodded after closing the door and gasped when Kendry drew her to him in a warm hug and then kissed her temple. “The three of us will talk soon.” She wanted to lean into him so bad, but she pulled back and climbed into the driver’s seat after he opened the door for her.
The clear intent in his eyes and the determined tone he used set all her nerves to dancing, and a shiver rippled through her that she couldn’t blame on the wind. If he’d tried to kiss her, she wasn’t sure she would’ve stopped him.
Jared’s phone was tucked in her purse beside her in the passenger seat and she set out. The weather held for her on the trip into San Antonio and she said a prayer of thanks when she arrived at her destination with little trouble beyond having to deal with the traffic and road construction. Whit had been so quiet on the trip, she’d reached back and checked him at intervals during the start and stop traffic.
She parked in front of the custom embroidery shop in the strip mall and unloaded Whit and slipped him into the sling she still wore. “Wish me luck, babycakes.”
Inside the shop, the owner showed her the machine that she was selling, complete with all the manuals and the packing materials and box it’d come in. After receiving a demonstration that it worked, and a quick tutorial in its basic operation, Presley Ann negotiated the price and said, “I’ll take it.”
“Wonderful. If you’ll just give me a few minutes to get it packed up.”
After finishing the transaction, Presley Ann decided to stop at a sandwich shop on the other side of the strip mall to eat a late lunch. She grabbed the blue paisley pashmina Leah had given her for a birthday gift, the only article made of cashmere wool that she’d kept when she’d sold all of her designer clothing earlier in the year. It was cozy, made her think of her sister, and served as a good cover for Whit if he needed to nurse while she ate.
A group of young women, obviously out on their lunch break, drew her attention with their loud conversation, mostly complaining about their bosses, boyfriends, or other friends. It brought an inexplicable smile to her face as she listened to one that was particularly whiney. She could remember going on just like that.
“Okay so, he was like—baby, I want you to stay at my place sometimes—so I was like—teddy bear, if you want ‘this’ at your place you need better sheets, and to like do some laundry and house cleaning. So he was like—it’s always about buying stuff for you—okay, so I was like—better you know that up front, right, teddy bear? So he was all—shit, man, I can’t afford this—and I was all—I guess not, teddy bear.”
Presley Ann wondered if her ears would start to bleed and barely held back a snort as the chippie swiveled her neck and snapped her fingers.
Whit chose that moment to get fussy in his sling, and she didn’t give it any thought as she drew the pashmina around her and covered him as she adjusted her top and let him have his lunch, too.
She took another bite of her food, considering how she would go about finding a market for the baby slings she planned to make when she happened to look up. The nearby table of women had grown quiet, and she realized it was because they were staring at her. The one who had been speaking actually curled her lip in disgust.