Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“You kissed her?” Kennedy’s question came out short, angry.
Jack had lifted his hand to wave at someone across the deck, but his gaze snapped to Kennedy’s, and his hand lowered. “Whoa.”
“What?”
Jack studied him for a moment, then sighed and shook his head. “You’re an idiot.”
“You get dumped by an amazing woman, and I’m the idiot?”
Jack didn’t rise to the bait, just gave Kennedy an irritated look. “I had my suspicions, but you had Claudia, and . . . Damn it, Kennedy. You should have told me she was off-limits.”
“I did,” Kennedy ground out. “I very distinctly remember telling you that Kate was off-limits, that we had a pact—”
“Forget the stupid pact. I meant, you failed to mention that she was off-limits because she’s yours.”
“She’s not a possession, Jack.”
“I’m aware, Kennedy. But don’t pretend not to know what I mean. You like her.”
“Of course I like her.”
“You know what I mean. You want her. Nothing to do with friendship. Or work.” Jack stated it as a fact.
And hell. Hearing it out loud . . .
“No. I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
“See, that’s always been your problem. You act like you want everything to be simple and straightforward, but you spend so much effort trying to simplify every damn thing that you end up with a situation that’s a hundred times more complex than if you’d just gone with the flow.”
“All right, Aristotle, calm down,” Kennedy snapped, grabbing Jack’s champagne and taking a large swallow, since it was the closest drink around. “If you two are broken up, why is she here with you?”
Jack shrugged. “Like I said, we’re friends. I asked if she still wanted to come, and she said sure.”
“Where is she?”
“Restroom,” Jack said. “Apparently there’s a long line. Boats aren’t exactly known for bountiful facilities.”
“Maybe that’s why she dumped you,” Kennedy said. “You use words like bountiful.”
His brother threw up a good-natured middle finger and grabbed his champagne back. “Go get your girl.”
“She’s not . . .” The automatic denial died on Kennedy’s lips. Maybe she was. At the very least, his dad was right. He owed it to himself and to her to find out.
Kennedy started pushing through the crowd even before he’d fully registered his intent to move.
“Hey, Kennedy.”
He turned back to his brother, who lifted his glass in a toast. “Keep it simple.”
Yeah, right.
He didn’t know what he felt for Kate. But it was anything but simple.
16
Saturday, April 20
Kate waited in line for the ladies’ room for a solid fifteen minutes before she decided to cheat the bathroom system.
She assuaged her guilt by reminding herself that she and the owner of the yacht charter went way back. In fact, Kate was the one who’d put Kennedy’s mom in touch with the company for this party. Surely that earned her the right to break a few rules. Like, say, using the restroom in one of the exclusive suites.
Strictly speaking, the suites were off-limits during big cocktail parties, but she’d coordinated enough boat parties during her tenure at Wolfe to know that the company kept a few of the rooms unlocked in case any of the guests needed a private place to deal with seasickness.
Or in Kate’s case, a really full bladder.
Someone forgot to stock hand towels in the tiny bathroom, so Kate settled for shaking her hands vigorously as she stepped into the suite attached to the bathroom. It was small but nicely appointed, equipped for overnight stays with two small beds that could be pressed together as one, as well as a built-in couch in the corner and a small wet bar. She was tempted to sit for a moment and get a reprieve from the wealthy but increasingly tipsy partygoers . . .
Kate’s hands froze midshake as she realized she wasn’t alone. “What are you doing in here?”
Kennedy didn’t move from where he leaned against the wall in the small windowless room. “Asks the woman who barged through a door marked PRIVATE.”
“How’d you find me?”
“I didn’t see you in line at the main ladies’ room, so I asked one of the staff members, who remembered seeing ‘someone in a pink dress’ duck in here.”
“Well, congrats, you found me. Can we get back?” She pointed to the closed door he was blocking.
“To your date?”
His light emphasis on the word date gave her pause. “You talked to Jack.”
“I did. Pretty sexy dress to wear for someone who’s just a friend.”
“Save it,” she snapped, marching forward. “We’re not in the office, so you can’t tell me what to do or what to wear.”
“When have I ever told you what to do or what to wear in the office?” he said, uncrossing his arms and straightening. “Even if I wanted to, you wouldn’t have listened.”
“Well, why would I? You’re technically my boss, but not my only one. You’re not my boyfriend. We’re barely even friends, so—”