Rock Kiss 03 Rock Redemption(95)

“What?” A curious look. “Spill, Devigny.”

Grinning, she reached into the backseat and found the small package. “Shall I open it for you, or do you want to wait till we’re home?”

“I never knew you were such a tease.”

She laughed and opened the package to reveal a glittery pink princess mug stamped with the letter N. “I couldn’t have you feeling left out.”

“Gimme that.” He swiped for it.

“Nuh-uh.” She wrapped it safely back up. “I’m not having you throw it out the window. I want a picture of all four of you drinking from these mugs.”

He grumbled, but she caught that heartbreaking, lopsided smile that made it clear he loved that she’d bought him a gift, and her heart, it went all liquid inside her chest. First what he’d said about children, and now this…

Noah was devastating her defenses one by one.




They celebrated her casting with champagne and a homemade dinner where Kit talked off Noah’s ear about the script, and he just grinned and listened and told her again that the part had always been meant to be hers.

His belief in her was one of the things that had first made her fall so hard for him. She’d grown up being told by the world that she was inferior to her parents—there had been the “fugly” comments of the tabloids while the gossip magazines and bloggers had been more sly, calling her “awkward” and pointing out her ordinary teenage acne as a “brave fight” she was undertaking.

Other people hadn’t been as subtle. As a child, then a teen, she’d overheard more than one guest at her parents’ home say uncomplimentary things.

“You’d never believe the ungainly child was Adreina and Parker’s daughter.”

“I don’t know, maybe she’ll grow into those limbs. If she doesn’t… poor child.”

“Fugly is right.”

The adult Kit understood that those people had been vicious, sharpening their claws on a vulnerable target, but being constantly negatively compared to her parents wore away at a person. She’d never said that aloud to anyone but Noah, wary of appearing the “poor little rich girl.” But he got it. He knew it wasn’t about ego but about identity.

Kit didn’t want to be labeled as Adreina and Parker’s daughter. She wanted to be Kathleen Devigny, who was her own person quite apart from the two larger-than-life people who had created her.

“You are,” Noah had said to her the first time she admitted her frustration. “The world won’t know what hit it when Kathleen Devigny takes it by storm.”

She loved him for that and for his talent and his heart that was bigger than most people knew. He’d never told her, never mentioned it in even a single interview, but she knew he donated a large percentage of his income to charity. The only reason she knew was that she’d been in his hotel room one day when she’d picked up a piece of paper that had fallen to the floor. As she was putting it back on the table by the phone, she’d inadvertently read a few lines—enough to tell her the letter was from his accountant, itemizing donations made on Noah’s behalf. All the ones she’d seen had related to children.

Complex, beautiful, talented man, she thought, her heart hurting. She loved him, but she knew he was broken. Perhaps permanently.

“Let’s go sprawl on the couch and finish off this champagne,” he said after dinner.

Kit nodded because, broken or not, he was hers and she wouldn’t give up on him.

They’d just taken a seat on the sofa, Noah’s arm around Kit’s shoulders, when she got a text from Harper. Her mouth fell open. “Give me the remote.” Grabbing it, she switched channels.

“Blue Force?” Noah groaned as the iconic theme music came on. “I watched Dancing with the Stars. I should get to choose today.”

“I’m on it.” She snuggled close to his side. “It was taped three years ago, just before the series was put into temporary deep freeze—Harper just found out a few minutes ago that this is my episode.”

“Why the fuck would Harper put you on this piece of—” Clearly catching her warning glance, he smiled. “I must’ve been thinking of another show. This is pure genius.”

She made a disbelieving noise but stayed against him. “This was before Last Flight. I was still on Primrose Avenue and trying to break out into serious drama. These guys gave me a shot, so don’t you ever mock the show.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He ran his fingers over her shoulder. “What’re you playing?”

“A murdering junkie.” She grinned at the open disbelief on his face. “Wait till you see me—you won’t recognize me.”