Page 89 of Tempting

—Kenzie’s Secret Thoughts

“So are you going to forgive him?” Bellamy asks from the other side of the counter while we pay for our dinners in the hospital cafeteria. Not that her brownie and yogurt count for a meal to anyone past the age of eight, but, I’m trying not to judge.

“Nixon or Easton?” I ask as we find a table, rethinking my salad. “I’ve already forgiven Nixon. I’m just still pissed. He shouldn’t have kept it from me.”

“Is that really why you’re still pissed? Or is it because he called you out on the Dr. Dick thing?” I stab a cucumber with my fork and stare at her brownie. Maybe Bellamy has the right idea.

“I wish he’d told me. But I’m pretty sure I’m more mad at myself for overreacting than I am at him for putting me in the position in the first place. I’ve just dug my heels in so deep, it’s kinda hard to pull them out,” I admit, so damn frustrated.

“The first step is admitting you have a problem,” she chirps, reminding me a little of Leo. “The second step is the make-up sex. Make-up sex is so much fun.”

Huh... I hadn’t thought about it that way.

“Now, onto Easton. Are you pissed at him too?”

“Maybe give me a little bit more of a transition between hot make-up sex with my fiancé and asking me about my brother,” I groan. “But yes. Him, I’m still mad at. I’m a grown woman. You think that dumbass would have a little faith in my decision-making skills.”

“What time is your meeting with HR?”

“In an hour,” I tell her, knowing I have to do this. I should have done it weeks ago.

She looks between the brownie and yogurt sitting side by side on her tray, then picks up the brownie and hands it to me. “Pretty sure you need this more than I do.”

Once I’m home, I shower and change into leggings and Nixon’s Boston University hoodie. It’s not the new Revolution one he gave me, but this one smells like him, and after the day I’ve had, I need the comfort.

Gordie and I curl up on the couch, and I open my Kindle, needing a distraction.

Fourteen chapters later, the shifters have rejected each other, then somehow fall in love with each other anyway, and I’m reminded why I love shifter romance.

The Alpha possessiveness is off the charts, and I’m here for it.

We’re just about to get to their first time together when my door opens, and my breath catches in my throat. “Nix...”

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs and crosses the room in two long strides before picking me up and crushing me to him. “Christ, Mac. I missed you so much.”

I wrap my legs around his waist, and he sits us both down, and I cling to him. “Me too, Nix.” My eyes fill with unshed tears. “It’s been awful without you home, and us fighting, and today was such a bad day, and you were the only person I wanted to tell. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have frozen you out. It would have killed me if you did that to me. I won’t do that again?—”

“Shh,” he cuts me off before pressing his lips to mine. “Slow down and breathe, Mac.”

I rest my head against his chest and listen to his heart beat for a few long minutes before opening my mouth again. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you the other morning. I should have given you a chance to explain, and I didn’t. I trust you, Nix. But this is all so damn new and scary. It doesn’t make it better, but hopefully, next time, I won’t be like this.”

He lifts my face to his. “There’s not going to be a next time, Mac. I called Hunter and told him to kill any trade talks.”

“It won’t be our last fight though. We’ve got to work on better communication.” I close my eyes and soak in his warmth. “Don’t keep things from me again. Be honest with me from the beginning. I don’t need to be protected. Just loved.” I smile and take his hand in mine. “Tell me why you wanted the trade.”

“I don’t even have a good answer anymore. I thought a different city could help me create my own legacy instead of always feeling like I’m just a piece of my father’s. I did it to myself. My dad has never made me feel that way. It’s me making me feel that way.” He pushes my hair over my shoulders and tugs on the hood of my sweatshirt. “My clothes look so fucking good on you, baby. But I have something else for you to try on.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I’ve helped myself to a few things in your closet since you’ve been gone,” I admit sheepishly.

Nixon pulls a tiny red velvet box from his pants pocket and holds it up between us. “I hope you’re still willing to give me the same answer, Mackenzie. Tell me I didn’t fuck this up beyond repair and you’ll still marry me.”

He cracks the box open to show me a beautiful brilliant-cut, platinum solitaire, and in typical Nixon fashion, it’s gigantic.

“Nixon . . . It’s beautiful.”

He pulls it from the box and slides it down my finger. “Is that a yes, baby?”

I press my lips to his. “I already told you yes. That never changed. I was pissed. Not done. Never done.”

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