Right from the Start (24 page)

“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 never the leading lady. She was going to get some
gumption.

* * *

W
ILL
FOUND
K
ENZIE
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?”

She was so close. Close enough that she had to tip her head to
meet his gaze. Close enough that he might slip his arms around her and pull her
even closer.

And Kenzie was aware, too. She was gauging him, assessing why
he would make an appearance now after a week of painfully casual contact. He
wondered what she thought. Whatever might be going on inside that pretty head of
hers, she swallowed hard. Her chest rose and fell on a hard breath as she took a
careful step away and set aside the face mask, removed her gloves.

Friends?
Right.
More like awkward
wannabe lovers in full-on denial. A week hadn’t cured her of their chemistry,
either.

“Listen, Sam’s mom is at the house spending time with him since
he’s home from camp, so I don’t have to rush anywhere to pick him up. You want
to grab a beer?”

She smiled. “Are you asking me on a date, Will?”

He could hear the laughter in her voice. She clearly didn’t
believe he’d changed the boundaries of their relationship, and in that moment,
he resented his inability to be a man. Nothing but a man who wanted to become
involved with a beautiful woman.

“Friends can go out for a drink, can’t they?” He tried not to
sound defensive.

“I’ve got nothing on the agenda tonight but the
windowsills.”

“Great. Do you care where we go? There’s the pub up the street.
We can walk.” He wasn’t ready to tackle the intimate quarters inside the cab of
his truck.