Page 17 of Temptation

Who knew if she’d even want that. I sure as hellshouldn’twant that.

Yet I’d always felt a connection to her. And now she was here. In my kitchen. Something that had also seemed impossible even an hour ago.

Impossible…just like everything was when it came to Kendall. And so, I forced myself—like always—to shove my attraction down. To push it away.

“I didn’t realize you bought a new house,” she said.

I straightened, trying to ignore the way my body reacted to her. Her coconut scent perfumed the air. And my blanket was touching her bare skin. And…

I am a dirty old man.

“Knox?”

“It was time to downsize,” I said, clearly delirious from a long day of travel.

She choked on a laugh. “Right.Downsize.”

“What?” I asked, resting my hip against the counter.

“Not sure a seven-bedroom, thirteen-bathroom home qualifies as ‘downsizing.’” She used air quotes.

“I would, considering it has 10,000 fewer square feet than my last one.”

She laughed, the sound rippling through my house. Breathing life into the space. Into me. “I guess that’s true.”

“Though I’m not sure I can call it home yet. I haven’t spent much time here.”

“Well, the renovations did seem to stretch on,” she said. “It’s nice to have them complete.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Thank you for being here to keep an eye on everything.”

“My pleasure,” she said. “I really enjoyed getting to know the contractors. Especially this one guy—Santos. He was so funny. And they were all very skilled.”

I laughed.

“What?” she asked.

“Only you…” I rubbed a hand over my mouth. Of course, Kendall would enjoy socializing with the contractors. Especially if it allowed her to converse in other languages.

Perhaps sensing the need for a change of subject, Kendall said, “Did you have a nice Christmas?”

Was she fishing for info about Jude?

“It was nice, if a bit hectic. I think I was still trying to recover from the end of the season.”

“I’ll bet.” She shook her head. “The finals—I mean, that was intense. Especially when Esposito evaded four of the other team’s players and scored.” She continued gushing about the plays made and the effort of the Leatherbacks, regardless of the fact that we’d lost. But then she suddenly stopped talking and closed her mouth. “Um. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” I frowned, disappointed. I’d always loved how passionate she was about soccer.

Kendall was well versed in the plays. Not only did she appreciate the game, she could see it strategically in a way most couldn’t. Like a pool shark plotting out their winning shots. And her memory for facts and figures was remarkable.

“I just…you probably don’t want to talk about work when you’re at home. With an employee.” Was that a reminder for herself or for me? Perhaps both?

“Kendall,” I said as she stood and pushed in her barstool. “You, of all people, know how obsessed I am with soccer. Besides, I don’t consider you an employee.”

“But that’s what I am.” She smiled and placed her empty glass in the sink. “And I should probably, um—” She hooked her thumb toward the stairs. “Let you get to bed. Or do whatever you were going to do.”

“I’d rather talk with you,” I said. “I’ve always enjoyed talking with you.”

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