Chapter Forty-Five
Shit, that’s hot!
Trenton stuck his hand under the running faucet to cool the sting of his index finger, then took an oven mitt from the drawer to retrieve the dish of turkey sausage from the microwave.
He grabbed the skillet from the cook top and raked the scrambled eggs onto a plate. A bagel popped up in the toaster with a snap. Adding a short glass of OJ and a piping hot cup of coffee to the breakfast tray, he carried it upstairs to his bedroom.
Kennedi lay asleep, face half buried in the pillow, curls wild and frizzy, and the sheet covered her from hips down. The sun broke through the windows and streaked across the smooth angle of her narrow back. He took a couple steps and she rolled over, displaying for his appreciative view beautifully taut brown nipples and that nicely curved ivy tattoo that rode the right side of her pelvic bone.
It still wasn’t exactly clear where things stood with them. He understood her reservations. But he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it.
Her eyes fluttered open.
“Morning. I made you breakfast. Well, my attempt at it anyway.” He smiled.
Bringing the sheet up over her breasts, she sat upright and fluffed the pillows at her back. “You actually cooked? Did you even know there was a kitchen in this place before I broke it in? The pots and pans looked brand-new. They begged me to use them.”
She was teasing him. Trenton took it as a positive sign. He settled the tray across her lap and sat on the edge of the bed. “No doubt this doesn’t compare to your culinary talents.”
Cuffing his nape, she pulled him in close. “It’s in the effort, babe.” Her peck on his lips was so devastatingly sweet. “Now, let me see if you can burn.” Still smiling, she took in a fork of the eggs, chewed and nodded. “Not bad. Hey babe, would you mind getting my purse? I think I might have a hair band in it.”
Babe again. Another good sign. Trenton reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out two—one black and one pink. He held up the black. “I found this one on my bathroom floor and this one on the end table in the living room some time ago.”
“Oops.” She grinned over the rim of her coffee.
“You left your toiletry bag in the bathroom the last time you stayed over. You know, maybe you should keep some of your things here.”
Her smile dimmed out like a cooling pilot light. “While you’re doing those counseling sessions, will she stay here?”
“Hell no.” He scowled. “She’s renting a place in Old Town Alexandria.”
Silence reigned as she concentrated on her plate, and he braced for: I don’t need this shit. You carry too much baggage. I can do better. How could he argue any of those valid points?
“Don’t press charges.”
He blinked, jolted by the sudden shift in topic, but quickly caught up. “Kennedi, Dean Watts and your former stepmother embezzled funds.”
“Please.” Brown eyes pleaded. “I don’t want my father to know about the money. Though my father and Eleanor were divorced, I don’t want him to know about her and Dean’s relationship, about any of it. He’s dealing with so much. This could make things worse.”
Trenton struggled with his decision only until she took his hand and lightly squeezed. Hell, she could’ve asked him to catch the moon and he would’ve tried to find a lasso long enough. “If it’s what you want.”
“Yes, it is.”
He cupped her cheek and delicately stroked. “Kennedi, I want to use every day doing all I can to earn your trust back. Will you give me that chance?”
Contemplation colored her expression for a long moment, then she nodded. “I’d like us to try.”
“That’s all I can ask.” He kissed her palm. “How about we start by you spending the day with me?”
She blinked. “I don’t have any of my things.”
“Whatever you need, we’ll order, and have it delivered.”
Their heads turned to the chime of the electronic pad stationed on the nightstand.
“Someone’s at the door.” He brought up the security feed on the widescreen TV above the fireplace.
“Who’s that? I see she has the code to your place.”
“Sasha, my buddy’s sister. She cleans my place twice a week and every other Saturday,” he rushed to explain in the hopes of softening the questionable frown blanketing her features. “I told you about her, remember?”
“You told me she was African American and a college student. You didn’t say she was gorgeous and had legs for days.”
Trenton shuddered a little—it was like looking at his sister. “I don’t see her that way.” He got up. “I’ll go tell her to come back next week.”
“No, I’ll finish up, then try to look presentable.” Sasha yelled out his name, and Kennedi looked at him. “Go.”
“Say you’ll stay.”
Again, Sasha called out to him.
“Yes, now go.”
“The young lady is so damn impatient.” Smiling, feeling he could breathe again, he kissed her forehead and jogged out.
After finishing her breakfast, freshening up, and slipping on one of Trenton’s white dress shirts over her cocktail dress, Kennedi rolled the sleeves and knotted the front. She arranged her hair in a top bun, then grabbed the breakfast tray from the bed and headed downstairs.
She came upon the pair in the kitchen. “Good morning.”
“OMG Trent, you weren’t joking! Hi, I’m Sasha. Here, let me take that.” Tossing waist-length, blue-tipped box braids back over her shoulders, she came forward and took the tray from Kennedi. “Trent said you were here. I didn’t believe him.” She turned a smirk on Trent, who stood leaning back against the counter with his arms folded at his chest. Sasha looked between them. “So, you two are kickin’ it?”
“Don’t you have work to do?” Trenton snatched the dish towel off the island and tossed it at the girl.
Sasha laughed. “Miss Chase, I saw you on 'Cake Masters.' You should’ve won. Your design was the shit.”
“Sasha,” Trenton scolded.
“What? It was way better than that dude’s theme park, that’s for sure.” She turned back to Kennedi. “Did he ask you about making my graduation cake?”
“No, he didn’t.”
She gasped. “Trent, you promised.”
“I’ve been…” He looked at Kennedi. “We’ve had a lot going on. Focus on your studies. The cake can wait.”
“When do you graduate?” Kennedi asked, reading Sasha’s pout and recognizing the big brother sort of relationship Trenton had with her.
“Not for two more years, but I heard you’re booked far in advance.”
“Let me know what you want, and I’d be happy to do a design for you.”
“That’s awesome!” She beamed. “Thank you.”
Trenton came out of his relaxed lean. “Now if you want to get paid, finish your job.”
Sasha jumped right to it as he came over to Kennedi, and they made their way into the living room.
“Tabitha will drop off some of my things later,” Kennedi remarked.
“Under protest, no doubt. That woman hates me.”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s concerned about me, that’s all.” They circled arms around one another, drawing in close. Hearing the start of the vacuum, she came up on her toes to speak near his ear so as not to raise her voice. “What would you like to do today?”
He leaned in. “I want to stretch out on the couch with you the entire day. We can order in. Finish off a bottle of wine or two. Sprinkle in some lovemaking, of course.” He grinned. “Maybe you can turn me on to another show for us to binge watch. I’ve often imagined doing all of that with you.”
She drew back to look at him. “Really?”
His beautiful smile faded. “You’re bored already, aren’t you? You’re probably rethinking your decision to stay. Forget what I said. What would you like to do? Name it.”
“No, I was thinking how wonderfully perfect that sounds.”
“You’re perfect.” His hands cupped her face and he brushed his lips feather soft against hers, kissing her tenderly, sweetly, then with an aggressive tongue, provoking a wondrous quail of need that only he could slake.
The vacuum shut off. “Uh, that’s way too much PDA for me.”
Kennedi drew away from Trenton, and they turned to Sasha across the room balancing a lean on the cordless Dyson.
Trenton went to her while pulling folded money from his jean pocket. “The place is clean enough. Here you go. There’s a little extra for having to clean up the mess I made in the kitchen.”
“Yeah, I can’t believe you tried to cook.” Laughing, she stuck the money in the back pocket of her denim jeggings. “Miss Chase, I feel sorry for you.”
Kennedi laughed.
“Goodbye, Sasha.” Trenton walked her to the door then returned. “Now where were we?”
“Before we do all of what you said, there is something I want to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“A repeat of all the things we did in your steam room. You’re exceptionally good with your tongue, Mr. Shaw.”
His lips curved wide. “Hell yes.”
Smiling, she took his hand and headed for the door to the left of the stairs.