Worth the Wait(31)

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

His eyes narrowed as he gazed at me as though he was trying to see all of my secrets. It was such a disconcerting feeling that I found myself leaning away from him.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” he asked softly. “You’re a fantastic woman who, in turn, is raising two fantastic kids.”

I turned away and took another sip of my beer with a mumbled, “Thanks,” not knowing what else to say.

Obviously having had enough of me evading his gaze, Brett took my chin between his fingers and tilted my face toward his.

“What happened to you, beauty? You can tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I lied, standing from the couch and taking a step away. All of a sudden, I needed space from him and his questioning eyes. I hated how he was looking at me. The pity masked with concern cut like a knife.

He stood as well and reached out for my hand, but I quickly pulled it away. “Kenz, I saw how you reacted when Callie asked about her grandfather. There’s something there, something you’re keeping locked up. You don’t have to do that, baby. You can trust me. I would never judge you.”

What a joke. If there was one thing I’d learned growing up, it was that you could never trust anyone but yourself. Trusting people—especially men—had never caused me anything but pain. Emotionally and physically.

“It’s late and I’m tired,” I replied lamely, choosing to ignore his declaration. “I think you should probably go. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” I walked over to the front door and pulled it open, giving him no choice but to leave.

Brett calmly placed his half-full beer on the coffee table and made his way over, stopping just in front of me.

“You ever plan on trusting me, beauty?”

Lifting my chin in the air, I looked him directly in the eyes, working hard to make sure my voice didn’t waver as I answered, “I don’t trust anyone, Brett. I learned that lesson a long time ago.”

Something flashed across his face. Was it disappointment? The thought of him being disappointed in me in any way caused a pain deep in my chest that I couldn’t stand.

“That really makes for a sad, lonely existence, Kenzie.”

He didn’t say anything else as he walked away, not once turning back to see just how badly his parting shot gutted me.





I didn’t call Brett the next day like I said I would, or the day after for that matter. And before I knew it, six days had passed without any communication. My stomach was in knots as me and the kids drove to his house to help set up for their birthday party that was starting a few hours later.

My emotions were off kilter. I was nervous about seeing him for the first time since avoiding him for a week. I feared he’d give me the cold shoulder for how I’d been acting. But the feeling that stood out the most was how much I’d missed him.

By the time we pulled up, the driveway was full of cars. I got the kids out of the car and carried the cake up the front walk to the door.

“Brett! Brett!” the kids shouted as they barged through the door without so much as knocking.

“Callie, Cameron! You don’t just run into someone’s house,” I scolded as I followed after them, trying to catch up.

“Hey, birthday buds!” Brett replied just as excited as they were as he bent down and scooped them both up, one in each arm. He looked over at me with that signature grin of his and I felt the nerves in my belly uncoil just a bit. The relief I felt that he didn’t appear mad was almost overwhelming.

“Is that the cake?” Emmy and Savannah came rushing up to me, pulling my attention off Brett as they peeked through the clear plastic lid to the birthday cake I’d spent way too many hours making last night.

“Oh, my God, that’s so pretty!” The rest of the girls ran over to inspect my work, oohing and awing over the two tiered, pirate-themed cake I’d made. The bottom tier was black, with white skulls and crossbones for Cameron, while the top tier was pink with black pirate accents. The twins loved it and I was ecstatic that I only had to make one cake.

“How did you do that?” Mickey asked me.

“It was my first foray into fondant, and I’ll tell you this now, I’m never doing that again. There’s no friggin reason it should take me four hours just to decorate the damn thing!”

Brett set Cameron and Callie back on the floor and looked over my shoulder. As it did every time he was close, my body reacted to him, flushing with an attraction I couldn’t beat down.

“You did good, beauty. Why don’t you go put it in the kitchen? I have something I want to show you.”