Page 33 of Tempting

“I was always good at solo projects, Professor Sinclair. It’s the team assignments that are a little harder for me.” I try to play into it, when I really want to call him out on his swift change of tone. “Guess I better practice. I’ll see you when you get home later this week.”

“Oh, there needs to be plenty of practicing. And good girls get rewarded for hard work.”

“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing I like straight A’s. I’ll be waiting for my reward.”

And remembering this night whenever I’m in the mood to practice.

KENZIE

Fourteen muscles are used when you pour a cup of coffee. Who needs to go to the gym when you’ve got a coffee addiction the size of mine?

—Kenzie’s Secret Thoughts

Dr. Wren Davenport is one of the top ob-gyn’s on the East Coast. She’s the owner of the practice I work for, and she’s kinda sorta my aunt. Her full name is Dr. Wren Davenport-Kingston, and she’s married to Becket’s brother Sawyer. It’s sort of the same with Becket and Juliette’s son, Blaise. Technically he’s my cousin, but Easton and I treat him like a little brother. One who’s already taller than me.

The Kingston family is easily forty people deep these days, and we’re worse than that old drinking game, Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. Between us and Nixon and the twins’ family, there’s bound to be a connection to most people in Kroydon Hills.

When she and I spoke last winter, she mentioned she’d like to open up a second office in Kroydon Hills as a satellite office for the Philadelphia office. When she offered me the job, I jumped, like Simone Biles high. Not only was I being offered a dream job, but it was close to home. I mean, I could walk to work if I wanted to. I don’t—because seriously... the heels. But if it wasn’t for my shoe addiction.

I glance down at today’s red patent-leather stilettos with the matching red soles. When your surrogate mom, slash cousin, is a former supermodel, she makes sure to keep you in nice shoes. It’s our thing. I run my palms over my black dress and slide on my white coat like it’s a superhero’s cape, ready to take on the day when Wren knocks on my office door. “Good morning, Kenzie.”

“Hey. I didn’t think you were coming back until tomorrow.”

“We wanted to be back before the weekend.” She smiles warmly and adjusts my stethoscope. “How was the event?”

I narrow my eyes, already on to her. She’s a Kingston. They’re all nosey.

“Max ratted me out, didn’t he?” Shockingly, he and his wife were the only family there.

Wren purses her lips but gives in to a laugh before long. “No. I actually heard it from a nurse this morning during rounds. When were you going to tell me you’re dating Nixon Sinclair?”

“Maybe when I am dating Nixon Sinclair. We’re friends, Wren. I just didn’t feel like going alone, and his mom was one of the chairs of the event. Sorry to disappoint.” I grab my empty mug from my desk and walk past her into the kitchen, well aware she’s following me.

I pour myself my second cup of coffee this morning, then grab a paper cup and pour my coffee-addict aunt a cup as well and hold it out for her.

“When, huh?” She takes a sip and smiles deviously.

“What?” I ask, ready to go meet with my first patient.

“You said when, not if. There’s a difference, brainiac,” she teases and steps aside when I try to pass her. “You know you’re done with your residency now. You don’t have to work eighty-hour weeks anymore, Kenzie. You can have a life. In fact, I’d give it a try. It’s fun.”

I guess I did say when. But I meant if.

Totally meant if.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the Philly office today?” I snap, trying to change the topic. When she sips again instead of answering, I shake my head. “I’ve got a patient to see.”

“You can run, but you can’t hide, Kenzie. And if you think I’m bad, just wait until Juliette gets hold of you.”

Well, that stops me in the middle of the bustling office. Without looking, I know all the color drains from my face. “You told Jules?”

She smiles. “Oh, honey... I called Sawyer, who I’m betting called Becket. And you know Becks wasn’t keeping that to himself. Consider yourself lucky that you’ve been warned.”

Lucky? . . . Screwed is more like it.

Juliette

We’re flying back from DC tonight. Want to meet for coffee tomorrow?

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