Page 42 of Fight For Her
I needed to remember all of this was pretend. A show put on by a man who probably wrote the book on saying all the right things at the right times. Coby talked smooth, and I couldn’t fall for his words.
“Clearly,” Aiden laughed. He took a minute scrolling through his list while I composed myself. It would have been nice if he was more prepared, but I guess he didn’t have much time. “Here’s a good one. Not so much a question though, from @RitaK in Florida—wait, aren’t you two from Florida?”
We both nodded, and I waited on the edge of my seat, eager for a shift from the previous question.
“Kendahl and Coby, I’m Rita and I’m eighty-five years old. My granddaughter showed me your video. I wanted to say what a beautiful couple the two of you make. I know life is tough and relationships take work. As someone who was lucky enough to spend over fifty years with my true love, Paul, I know a thing or two about challenges of the heart. Watching the way you sang to each other on that stage I knew deep in my soul that you’ve got what it takes. You’re meant to be. Keep at it, kiddos. We’re all rooting for you. Love, Rita.’” Aiden quieted, for once not booming over everyone else. I felt warm tears beginning to leak out of the corner of my eye and quickly blotted them away with my index fingers.
I couldn’t look at Coby. Not after hearing that beautiful story. Finally, Aiden spoke, more gently than before. “That was lovely. Thank you, Rita, for your kind words. Kendahl or Coby, do you have anything to add?”
I shook my head and forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. Coby gave a wave and a low thank you while Aiden chattered at the camera, wrapping up.I had not expected to be left absolutely wrecked by one comment, but it was as if all the air drained out of my lungs and I was left flat and lifeless. I stood to walk my paper cup to the nearest garbage can.
We were supposed to go to dinner next door with the whole crew. It would be another long night of conversation with all the happy couples. After I tossed the cup away, I hung out near the garbage can to peek at Coby without him noticing. He looked as affected by the interview as I was. His head hung low and his shoulders drooped in a way that made him look like a different person.After a moment he looked up and our eyes met. Slate gray orbs that seemed to reach deep inside me. I watched him slowly stand and run a hand through his dark hair before joining me.
“You don’t want to go to dinner, do you?” he asked.
I shifted from one foot to the other as I pretended to mull over my response. “No.” I hesitated. “I think I need to be alone for a little while.”
He stepped closer until he was right up against me. I hadn’t realized how much taller than me he was until that moment. My breathing picked up, and I angled my gaze directly at his shirt. I couldn’t look into those eyes again, not feeling as confused as I felt.
He placed one hand against the wall above my head to brace himself while his other cupped my chin. His grip was soft yet strong, and the feel of his skin against mine had me wishing we were not in the middle of a busy lobby. He angled my face so I had no choice but to look into his eyes.
Seconds passed, or maybe minutes, I didn’t know. Our breathing synced and heat passed between us until finally Coby said, “Whatever you need. But know this, Kendahl, with me you’re never truly alone. I’m here to stay.”
He stepped away and walked toward the exit. I finally released a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding.
Chapter 20
Coby
Theraincouldsoakthrough my clothes and I wouldn’t give a shit. We’d all need kayaks to get from the inn to the restaurant soon enough. I pushed through the door and was greeted by the sounds of laughter and the scents of fresh bread and garlic. My mouth watered.
But I didn’t have it in me. My pulse was still racing like crazy. The second that kid said ‘Wyoming’ I figured it was over. Someone was about to ask if I wasthe Coby Barnes, from Verdant Valley. The same Coby Barnes who’d dumpster dive to feed his family. Who’d get bullied at school for wearing too-small shoes and holey shirts. The same Coby who’d drag his drunk, belligerent father out of the Cowboy Club night after night and got his ass beat for doing so. The Coby who left Wyoming as soon as he could.
Then when I realized Aiden’s mistake and could breathe again, the air got knocked out of me once more hearing that elderly woman’s story. Over fifty years happily married to the same person? I couldn’t even fathom that. Hell, it had been years since I could stand to be with a woman for more than a few hours up until I met Kendahl. I needed to get inside her head and find out what she was thinking. She was obviously affected by the interview too. I knew that bullshit pissy attitude was an act. She was angry, yes. And with reason. I behaved like a scared little boy when what she needed was a real man.
I clenched my fists together as a gust of wind rattled the door behind me. Taking another quick glance across the restaurant at my group of friends smiling and laughing, I made a snap decision. I’d order Kendahl and I some food to go, and drop it off at her room.
Twenty minutes later, after making a vague excuse to Mike and Jill, I headed back to the inn with soaked plastic bags containing about half their menu. Hopefully Kendahl would like at least one of these choices.I shifted the bags to one hand and knocked on her door. My heart pounded like I was a teenager going on my first date. Get it together man, she said she needed space.
“Who is it?” she called tentatively from behind the door.
“Room service,” I answered in a goofy high-pitched voice. She opened the door with her hand on her hip. “Don’t worry, it’s just me. You’re free to cuss me out.”
She shook her head and sighed. “You’re soaked.” An internal battle played out in her eyes as she took in my state, then the bags of food until she opened the door wider to gesture me inside.
I grabbed a towel from the bathroom, plopped the bags on top of the dresser, and made myself busy unpacking the containers. “Did you order the whole menu?” she asked.
“Everything but the special, some kind of fish I’d never heard of. Didn’t want to risk making your room smell like an actual urchin.”
That got a small laugh out of her. “Appreciate that.”
As I busied myself emptying the third bag, my stomach rumbling took precedent over my overactive pulse. I almost jumped as she slung a dry towel around my shoulders. “I’m running out of nightshirts.”
“There’s always sleeping naked.” I took the towel and rubbed my hair to a somewhat dry state.
“I already do.” She winked and settled down on the bed. Only then did I take in the fact that she had changed into tiny cotton shorts and a loose fitted long sleeve tee. The makeup I watched her meticulously apply had been washed off, and her long hair was pulled back. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
“In that case, I think it’s bedtime.” I put down the container filled with a pasta and chicken dish and pretended to go turn off the lamp.
