Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Her smile turned bashful, his words making her self-conscious. He’d always had the power to make her feel like shy, silly schoolgirl.
“Shut up,” she said with an embarrassed little laugh, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
His gaze softened as they swept over her flushed face.
He swept his index finger lightly over the surface of the skin along her jawline, reminiscent of the way he’d done last night before leaving.
He withdrew the whisper-soft touch seconds later and it took everything in her not to list in the direction of that retreating hand.
“Onto the next one,” he said, his voice raspy and eyes glazed. “We’re getting this damned sofa today.”
Several “arse tests” later and Smith was supervising the loading of what he’d deemed “the perfect sofa” onto the back of the borrowed pickup truck.
He was trying to tell the loaders—who clearly knew their jobs and didn’t need his oversight—exactly where and how to tie the couch down onto the bed of the truck.
Kenny had opted to stay in the vehicle. She had even less value to add when it came to the loading furniture onto the back of trucks and she had a headache building. Probably due to hunger—brunch had been nearly five hours ago—and some residual dehydration after last night.
Smith finally joined her, shouting his thanks to the loaders, before backing out of the cargo bay.
“All set?” Kenny asked, massaging the back of her neck. “It’s not going to fly off the back of the truck while we’re driving or anything, right?”
“It probably would’ve if those guys had paid any attention to anything I said,” he admitted with a self-effacing grin and she smothered a laugh. “But I’m confident they got it sorted, despite my attempts to help.”
“Hard to cede control sometimes, isn’t it?” she asked sympathetically.
“Has it been for you?” he asked with a narrow-eyed gaze, as if trying to figure out if there was another layer to her observation. “It can’t have been easy handing your department over to someone else to run in your absence. You must be checking in regularly.”
Surprised that this was the direction he’d chosen to take the conversation, Kenny shook her head.
“After a few hiccups in the beginning, I’m confident the department is in good hands. I haven’t checked in at all since arriving here.”
“Seriously?”
Kenny couldn’t blame him for being taken aback.
Work had always been her excuse to avoid any kind of emotional turmoil at home. Her crutch to lean on when she wanted to escape from the quietly stifling confines of her marriage. Her reason for getting up and carrying on two days after her miscarriage.
“Who did you leave in charge?”
“Dr. Rachel Khumalo.”
“Hasn’t she been gunning for your job for years?”
“She’s the only one qualified to run the department. And the only one I trust to do a competent job.”
“Aren’t you afraid she’ll make a play for the department while you’re gone?”
Kenny turned to face the passing scenery, resting her aching forehead on the cool glass of the window.
“Honestly? She’s welcome to try. I’ve built one of the best public health oncology departments in the country, and if the board doesn’t see my worth after the work I’ve put in, then maybe it’s time to move on. There are plenty of other hospitals—public and private—that would be happy to have me. I’m just too mentally exhausted to fight them right now. If they want Khumalo, then so be it.”
She’d left because fighting for her marriage was more important. But that fight turned out to be lost before she’d even fired her first salvo.
Yet over the course of the last six days, she’d come to understand that she needed to fix whatever was broken inside of her. That fundamentally flawed part of her that was afraid to love because love meant loss. Afraid to trust, because trust meant disappointment.
And that was the most important thing she needed to focus and work on right now. Because if she didn’t repair that damage, she would never be happy.
Chapter
Sixteen
“Hello, Harris,” Kenny greeted, when they arrived back at her place to find the man waiting on the porch for them. “I assume you’re here to help chuck out the old and haul in the new?”
Harris, who was sitting on the porch steps, nodded wordlessly.
“And you always just do whatever Smith asks of you?” Kenny questioned, as she limped up the steps toward the tall man, who was pushing himself upright and unfolding his arms lazily.
Harris surprised her by grinning, the first hint of warmth he’d shown Kenny since her arrival in town.
“Pretty much,” he drawled. “I’ve been his little bitch since primary school.”
“You’ve known each other that long?” She was ashamed that she hadn’t known that before now. Was it any wonder Smith was getting rid of her? Who would want to be with someone who didn’t know something as fundamental as that about him?