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December 25, 10:14 p.m. 34 seconds
(Paxton residence, Ann Arbor)
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Blue, green and red arcs lit up Juniper’s face as she sat next to Kyle watching the burlesque dancers fly across the makeshift stage in the ballroom. Juniper clapped and cheered along with the others, leaning forward to see better, oblivious that Kyle was watching her. So intense was his focus on her, he had no idea what the hell the dancing troupe was doing.
How crazy.
How fast views change.
How fast my proven systems broke.
Eyes on Juniper’s face, Kyle’s heart and mind and body connected. Separation of the heart, mind and body used to work so well. Life was easy in sections. He had spent years locking away the mind boxes. And now the boxes lay empty. Out spilled a crapfest of all the things he hated and hid. Emotions. Feelings. Love. Fear of losing his love.
His love. It was hard to get used to that.
Emotions were dangerous. In her presence, all he felt was danger. As if he were stuck in an acupuncturist’s chair with a thousand needles in his skin. He wanted those silver pins out. He wanted to go back to the way he was before—dead and cold but focused and firm.
And now he was lost.
The past 24 hours had been agonizing. Since he arrived in Ann Arbor, Kyle had attended a dozen tedious meetings with lawyers, accountants and executors—all of them grumpy about working on Christmas Eve. Kyle was now officially the sole executor of his father’s assets. In charge of the Paxtons’ finances—in charge of all the sick nuts with sicker fiscal needs. Though Kyle had donated his portion of his bequest to the Paxton Foundation, the finality of the deed had sent Denise and Royce into royal fits. Kyle was grilled by their lawyers and auditors for hours while being eye stabbed by Denise and Royce.
On seeing Juniper in the cheap lobby of her apartment a few hours ago, the tension had left Kyle’s body. But now, mulling over what Denise had done, it was back. His muscles were tense and stiff again.
Fucking Denise. What the hell did she mean by pointing the air gun at Juniper’s head?
I have to keep them apart. Make sure I never see Denise again.
The only place he wanted to see Denise was six feet under.
And Juniper. She was stubborn. Inflexible. Her mother sure did a number on her. Messed with her head.
Why could she not see he was right? Moving in together was the only solution. This long distance relationship was tough. Every minute away from her was a wasted one.
How does she feel?
Last week, at the treehouse, he was sure of her feelings and now...he didn’t know what the hell she felt. She was cagey and distant and it was his fault. He had pushed her away with cold words one time too many and she was just guarding her heart. It was mere self-preservation.
Kyle cursed himself. He had set out to ruin something pure and real from the get-go. He regretted the callous way he had treated her on their first damned date at The Chrome Fig. It was only natural she built defenses he could not penetrate.
Tilting his head, he whispered, “Are you ready? Come up with me now.”
Not taking her eyes off the performers, Juniper pouted. “No. I wanna see the whole thing.”
“Why do I feel you’re pushing me away?” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, ignoring the amused looks from Willow and Clive, who were sitting next to them.
“I am not. Later on, I wanna dance. I don’t care if you’re a dancing Grinch. So I’m staying.” Juniper drew her hand from his grip.
“No, Juniper,” he began and then paused when she turned to him. Her lips parted and the clear hazel eyes he loved met his. His heart shot with a thousand volts. Kyle was royally screwed. He could never say “no” to her.
