Her Kind of Man (12 page)

She held a finger against his mouth. “Shut up,” she snapped. “Why can't you see what's right in front of you, how I feel about you?”

Then she kissed him, slowly and tenderly. For a minute—a bite-sized minute—he let her. Closing his eyes, he went with it and captured her bottom lip in his. Her lips were as soft as he'd imagined and the tequila on her breath was intoxicating. And it wasn't enough. He wanted to explore her mouth further, but he wouldn't. Call him crazy, but he preferred this moment be shared in the privacy of his home with a sober Allina. Not standing in the bar, surrounded by people. He gripped her shoulder and pushed her back gently.

She grinned at him, her eyes still closed. “Finally,” she breathed, before sagging against him.

Clearing his throat, he allowed himself to look at the people surrounding him. His family. The word “friends” didn't do them justice. Judging by the way they all stood around, eyes wide and mouths hanging open, the turn of events had surprised them as well.

“Holy shit,” Cali whispered.

“I know, right?” Syd said.

“Um,” Kent croaked, adjusting Allina in his arms. She hadn't passed out, but he didn't believe she could hold herself up at that point. “That was…different. Roc, will you help me get her to the car?”

Nodding, his brother picked up one of Allina's arms and wrapped it around his neck. “Syd, go to the car.”

The walk was rough, as Allina kept stopping and making little comments about wind, cake, and banana fo-fana. If this had been Syd, and Morgan the one dragging her to the car, he would have been rolling on the floor with laughter. But it wasn't. This was his life.

When they finally got her buckled in, Allina gasped. “My phone!” She patted her chest and her legs where her pockets were.

“You don't have a phone,” he reminded her.

“Oh,” she said simply. She closed her eyes, relaxing into the seat.

Kent turned around and told Morgan, “I'll get with you tomorrow.” The rest of the crew was standing off to the side, Cali and Syd with guilty looks on their faces. “Later, y'all.”

A little while later, Kent cursed Cali and Syd to hell and back as he stumbled through his front door—with an inebriated Allina in his arms. He'd tried to walk her into the house, but getting her to actually stand up without falling over was impossible. In the end, he'd hoisted her in his arms and carried her.

That wasn't the problem, though. It was her warm, soft skin. Her shirt was a twisted mess and his palms were resting on her bare skin. When he thought about adjusting her in his arms, he realized that the only place his hand could go was her ass. That wasn't going to work.

When he kicked the door closed, her head fell back. Her hooded eyes were open, watching him. The desire in them was unmistakable. Her cheeks were red and her lips parted. Thoughts of kissing her flashed through his mind—the feel of her mouth against his, the smell of Patrón on her breath. In an instant, everything else seemed to fade away.

“It's you,” she whispered, tracing the outline of his lips with her finger.

Muttering a curse, he said, “Yes. It's me.”

“Hi,” she breathed.

His gaze flickered from her eyes to her mouth. “Hi.”

She finally closed her eyes and he let out a long, tortured sigh before he made it through the house to her room. He stepped in and deposited her on the bed. But before he could back away from her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her.

Shit
. As if being pressed against her so intimately wasn't enough, her fingers crept down his back and over his ass, scorching his skin as they traveled. It was too late; his body had already responded to her touch, to their closeness. Exhaling, he pushed himself up on his arms and peered down at her.

Her thumbs grazed under his eyes and over his forehead. “You're beautiful,” she mumbled.

Mesmerized by her mouth, he groaned.
Okay, maybe just one more kiss?
Shaking his mind free from the vivid memories of her lips against his, he slowly backed away. He wouldn't kiss her again—not yet; not when she more than likely wouldn't remember it in the morning. He gripped her wrists and pinned her hands to the bed so he could slide off her. When he was finally back on his feet, he let her go and tried to pull the covers over her. Unfortunately she wrestled with him, pushing the comforter away every time he pulled it over her. Finally she gave up, letting him win their little match.

He gave her one last glance before he went to the door.

“Kent?” she said.

Without turning, he answered. “Yes?”

“I wish you knew how much I need you, how much I love you.”

Closing his eyes, he slowly turned to her. But she was already snoring lightly. He let out a ragged breath and walked out.

A
llina's eyes opened and she sat upright, clutching the thin sheet to her body. She glanced around the room.
Kent's house.
She massaged her temples and groaned in pain. Her head was on fire, throbbing as if she'd spent a whole night banging it against a wall.

Her mind raced to remember what had happened the night before. She'd been at the Ice Box drinking with Cali and Syd. She'd said some things
…Oh God
. She remembered calling someone a bitch. Vaguely, she recalled bumping into Kent and…kissing him? Groaning, she mentally kicked herself.
Way to make a fool of yourself, Allina.

Liquor was definitely not her thing. She made a mental note to never let Cali talk her into taking a shot again.

She wondered what Kent was doing, if he was even there, just before she heard a soft knock on the door. Kent poked his head in. “You're up,” he said, entering the room.

“Yeah,” she grumbled. “My head hurts.”

She squinted, tried to focus on the label of the bottle in his hand. Tequila? Shaking her head, she pointed at the pint of liquor. “What's that for?”

“It's the quickest way to get rid of a hangover. I figured you'd wake up with one. Take a shot; your headache will go away.”

Which was worse? Throwing up because the smell was making her sick to her stomach? Or taking the shot and getting rid of the massive headache? She took the shot and fell back against the mattress, closing her eyes.

“I'm so embarrassed,” she admitted. “I can't even imagine how I look right now. And how I acted at the bar…I…there is really no good reason.”

She steeled herself for his response, uncertain she could take another rejection from him. Only he didn't say anything.
Did I screw everything up with my behavior?
Kissing him in front of all of his friends, while he was working, was awful. She'd never been so brazen before.
What if he'd hated it and that's why he isn't saying anything?
Suddenly she felt small.

She lowered her gaze, scraped a nail over a loose thread on the sheet. “The kiss…at the bar…” Her apology died on her lips because she actually wasn't very sorry. The details of last night were hazy but she did recall how his lips had felt against hers and how he smelled——like spices, chocolate, and mint. “Can you just…say something?”

He peered at her then and sat down beside her. “I need us to have a serious conversation about what's going on between us,” he said, his voice husky.

She bit her lip. “Okay,” she muttered, grateful that the tequila was working and her headache was fading.

Talking about what was happening between them wasn't a conversation she was prepared to have in the haze of the night before, but she would roll with it.

“I know how you feel about me,” he admitted. “I've always known.”

Allina's stomach dropped; her face and neck felt hot. Mortified, she resisted the urge to jump out of the bed and lock herself in the bathroom. She knew she wasn't good at hiding her emotions, but she hadn't expected him to actually call her on it.

She sank down into the mattress. “I…well…”
Forget it.

“But I'm not sure you realize how I feel about you,” he mumbled, averting his gaze.

Did he say “feel,” as in present tense, current feelings?
Just like that the dread in her gut was replaced with flutters.

“I think it's very real,” he continued. “I want to explore it, but I'm just concerned the timing isn't right.”

Her shoulders dropped. She slowly shook her head. “I don't understand.”

“I think we need time to make sure that it's what we both want. Allina, you were going to marry Isaac. I just want you to be sure this”—he motioned between them—“is what you really want. Because despite how we may feel for each other, sometimes it's not enough to make anything more happen.”

“How do you feel about me?” she asked hesitantly.

“I think it's pretty clear I care about you. I'd literally do anything for you, and I'm not afraid to admit it. I think you're beautiful, inside and out. I can see myself getting lost in you. And I just want to be sure it's right.”

Lips parted, her heart racing, she exhaled slowly. “I can't…did you just say you think I'm beautiful?”

This was better than she could ever have hoped for. In all her wildest dreams she'd never expected him to be so honest, so open, about how he felt. Although Kent wasn't the first man to tell her she was beautiful, it felt like he was.

“You always were. So beautiful. But it's not just that. You've been there for me every time I've needed you, with no hesitation.”

“You've done the same for me,” she said.

“And that kiss…” He let out a harsh breath. “I can't stop thinking about it. We definitely have chemistry, something pulling us toward each other. It was there before, but it's undeniable now. I was up most of the night trying to figure out a plan. But even the best laid plans don't work. I won't try to force it. If this is going to happen, I need it to happen after you've had a few days to process everything that's still going on with Isaac.”

She twisted her lip. “I guess you have a point. And I'm—” His fingertips against her palm rendered her speechless. She lost her train of thought when he lifted her hand and placed a tender kiss to it.

“We're friends,” he muttered against her skin. “Good friends. It shouldn't stop us, but it should make us more cautious of the decision we make. I don't want to lose you.”

“So what do you propose?” she asked.

“This is going to sound really crazy after everything I just said, but I'm thinking we should just forget about this conversation for a few days. Concentrate on getting you set up here. First and foremost, I want to get you a phone. While I want to believe that Isaac will just let this go, I want to be cautious. I don't want to take anything away from your father, but I'd like to find out more about Isaac myself. There is too much going on for us to start something.”

“Okay,” she said, surprising herself. He'd given it a lot of thought, apparently. How could she argue with his logic? “But we
are
going to revisit this again?”

“Definitely,” he promised. “I think it's pretty impossible to
not
have another discussion very soon. You are staying here.”

“Okay,” she repeated. “That sounds fair.”

He stood up and she immediately missed his warmth. “I have a meeting at the bar in an hour that I have to prepare for.” Leaning down, he brushed his lips against her forehead and hugged her. “I'll put you on some tea, okay?”

When she opened her mouth to thank him, he planted a kiss on her lips before pulling away. They shared one last look before he walked out of the room.

Kent mentally shook himself. He'd just told Allina that he essentially wanted to take it slow, that there was something going on between them that he wanted to explore. Then he'd kissed her?
What is up with that?

He wanted to blame it on his lack of sleep, but there was no sense in denying the truth any longer. The reason he said one thing and then turned around and done the complete opposite was because he couldn't
not
do it. Allina showing up at his door, needing him, trusting him, had changed him. It had opened up possibilities that he'd tried hard to ignore. Then she'd opened the door when she brushed her lips against his and kissed him for all the world to see.

But it wasn't even just that. Her voice and the way she looked up and said “finally” were tattooed on his brain. Truth be told, he felt the same way. Waiting for a few days was his failsafe, a way to make sure they tested the waters before they stepped in. Because he wanted to step in, possess her; make her feel everything she'd dreamed of as a young girl, replace every doubt and fear with love and acceptance. And he would. Slowly. There was too much at stake.

He heard a knock on the door and rushed out to the front of the house. The jingle of keys let him know that whoever it was had a key, which meant it was either Morgan or—

“Mama,” he said when his mother pushed the door open. “What—”

“Hi, son,” Mama said, walking in with a couple of grocery bags. “Here, take these.”

Patricia Smith, affectionately known as Mama, was just as busy at sixty-one as she'd been at thirty. She'd had Kent late in life, but she certainly hadn't allowed that to stop her from being an active part of his life growing up.

She was always on the go and she looked damn good. Today was no exception. She wore her workout gear, a lightweight jogging outfit. Her hair was pulled up into a tight ponytail. Recently, she'd decided to forgo the dye and embrace her salt-and-pepper hair color.

Grabbing the bags, he gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. “I wasn't expecting you,” he said. “You didn't have to bring me food.”

“I figured it was the only way I could see you,” she said with a wink. He motioned her in the direction of the kitchen with his head and she followed him. “You haven't even called your poor mother in days. I had to see if you were still alive over here. Besides, it's Sunday. I was thinking we could have dinner at your house today.”

He snickered at her attempt to make him feel guilty. It was the same conversation every time she stopped by. “Mom, I just talked to you Friday morning.” Unloading the bags, he continued, “You really shouldn't have bought all this stuff. We can't have dinner here tonight.”

“Son, you know I've been trying to start up our Sunday dinners again, now that Morgan is back in Michigan, settled.”

Sunday gatherings had been a tradition in his family for as long as he could remember. Mama would cook an awesome dinner and they'd all sit down to eat, sharing the good and bad news of the week. It had continued on a regular basis until that whole debacle with Syd, Morgan, and Den. Morgan had been offered a promotion at his architectural firm and he'd taken it, but he and Syd had needed to relocate to Baltimore for a period of time. After Brynn was born they'd moved back permanently, which made his mother very happy. She loved being a grandmother.

Mama didn't say so, but she'd been devastated when the family seemingly fell apart. After his father died, she'd devoted her time and energy to taking care of Kent and his brothers. Even though Morgan and Den weren't her biological children, she loved them as if she'd given birth to them. And she'd grown to love Syd just the same. It hurt her that things weren't the same between them.

“I hate this,” she said. “I want my family to come out of this. Have you talked to your brother?”

“Morgan?” he asked.

“Den.”

“No,” he said, bending his neck forward. There was a heaviness that kind of passed over him when he thought about the fact that he hadn't really spoken to Caden in over a year. They'd seen each other, but there were barely any words spoken.

“I've been trying to reach him. Normally he'll answer for me, but he hasn't. I hope he's okay.”

He looked at his mother, noticed the worry lines in her forehead. He would tell her anything to keep her mind off his brother's whereabouts. Talking about Den would only make it worse for her. “Mama, it's not that I don't want to have dinner with you and my family. I have a lot to do. I have a project due at work that I need to work on and…” Hesitating, he wondered if he should tell his mother about Allina. “I have a meeting at the bar in a few. It's not a good day for me.”

Frowning, Mama went to the refrigerator, opened it, and pulled out a bottle of water. “I feel like if we don't start it up, we never will.”

“That's not true, Mama. I promise I'll do it here next week.”

She nodded sadly. “Okay. I'll leave the food. How are you?” she asked, leaning against a cabinet. “You look tired.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I'm fine. There's a lot going on, but it will be okay.”

“Is it work?”

Shaking his head, he said, “Not really. Work is work.”

“Well, what is it?”

Before he could answer her, Allina shuffled into the kitchen, clad in one of his white T-shirts. “Kent, I was wondering if…oh my God.” Allina tugged at the shirt, trying to pull it down.

Mama's mouth fell open. She glanced at Allina, then at him, then back at Allina. “W-what? Allina? What are you doing here?” Mama stammered.

A pretty blush had started working its way up Allina's neck. “Mama, I was just getting ready to tell you that Allina is staying here,” he said.

Allina shoved her hair back off her face with one hand and held on to the shirt with her other hand. “Hi, Mama,” she said. “I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were here.”

“Baby, aren't you supposed to be married and on your honeymoon?” Mama asked.

“It's a long story, Mama,” Kent replied. “I want to tell you about it. Just not now. I have a meeting to get to.”

He hated to rush his mother out. But he had to get to his meeting and he wouldn't leave her there with Allina.

Mama cupped her elbow with one hand. Tapping her lips with the other, she asked, “Is everything okay, Allina?”

Allina nodded. “I'm okay.”

“Yes, she's fine,” he confirmed. “Let me walk you out, Mama. I'll call you later, Allina.”

Grabbing his mother's hand, he led her out of the kitchen.

“I'm confused,” Mama said as they walked to her car. “So, she's not getting married?”

“No,” he said. “The man she was going to marry is dangerous. And she came here to get away from him.”

“He didn't hurt her, did he?” Mama asked, concern in her eyes.

“Not physically. But he did do some crazy shit.”

Mama smacked him on his arm. “Watch your mouth.”