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CHAPTER SEVEN

Ambrose

I watch her retreat from the window, her small frame gradually vanishing down the driveway under the soft, pale glow of the streetlights.

She’s moving swiftly, as if an invisible force propels her away, like she can't escape fast enough.

Damn.

The warmth still lingers in the room, a comforting residue of her presence, the scent of her skin, a delicate blend of faint wine and vanilla perfume clings to the sheets.

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly, attempting to dispel the frustration twisting like a knot inside me.

That was amazing. Not just good. Incredible.

And now, she’s fleeing as if we committed some unforgivable act. Again.

I don't get it. The sex was phenomenal, but it transcended mere physicality.

The way she looked at me with eyes that seemed to delve into my soul, the way she softened when she thought I wasn’t watching, the way her laughter mingled effortlessly with the guys’, as though she belonged with us.

It was genuine, authentic.

So why does she keep running?

I let the curtain fall back into place, rubbing my jaw, feeling a prickling rawness that I shouldn't be experiencing. I don’t do emotions, not since Lara.

I certainly don’t let myself get attached to women I sleep with.

But this is different.

And it's beginning to wreak havoc in my mind.

I perch on the edge of the bed, my eyes fixed on my hands as if they hold the answers to questions I've yet to ask.

Lara used to do this too, run. Not in the literal sense; she lingered long enough to convincingly play the role of the contented wife. But emotionally? She was always miles away, a ghost in the house we shared.

Throughout our marriage, I believed she was the kindest soul I had ever encountered. Little did I know how far from the truth that really was.

She betrayed me, with two different men, and not in the kind of open, consensual way that some might envision. The recollection of it all causes my jaw to clench with lingering resentment.

Years have passed, yet the bitterness still pricks at me sometimes.

Not because I yearn for her. I definitely do not, but because it pains me to think of the years squandered on someone who never truly returned my love.

Then there's Kenzie.

Kenzie is a breath of fresh, untainted air. I see it in the sparkle of her eyes, the sincerity of her words, the genuine warmth in her touch. She carries no facade, no deceit.

She's a delightful mix of bashfulness and boldness, with an authenticity that is rare and precious.

And somehow, that raw honesty is even more intimidating.

I shake my head, allowing my thoughts to drift toward Wyatt, my son, my anchor.

It's been far too long since I've held him close. He is my universe, yet the constant back-and-forth between here and Grand Forks is no easy feat.

I pray he understands the depth of my love, even when I'm miles away, striving to carve out a future before my body surrenders to time.

Kenzie fled. That's her choice.

But I want her, badly.

And I'm growing increasingly weary of keeping up the charade that I don't.

I stand up and stretch my arms over my head, feeling the tension in my muscles as I try to shake off the lingering thoughts. I shouldn't be feeling this way.

I hardly know her, after all. But the way she made me feel...it's different.

This isn’t like my usual quick flings driven solely by lust. Sure, she's incredibly beautiful, with those mesmerizing big brown eyes and that sharp, quick-witted mouth that never runs out of clever remarks, but there's more to it.

It's the essence of her.

The way her face lights up with passion when she talks about animals, the intense focus she has when discussing her work, the boldness she showed the first night we met, calling me out on my shabby hoodie without a hint of intimidation.

She's truly fun.

And I can't remember the last time I genuinely had fun with a woman outside the confines of a bedroom.

I don't let my mind linger on these thoughts for too long. Instead, I push myself off the bed, heading for the door with a purpose.

It's time to wake up the guys. They should be aware that Kenzie made her stealthy exit before they instinctively reach out for her in their sleep.

I can't help but smirk at the thought of Braden's usual reaction to being woken up that is sure to come. As I gently shake him awake, his freckled face twists into a scowl, and he groans, dramatically flopping onto his stomach.

"You've gotta be kidding me," he mutters.

Reggie stirs beside him, rubbing his eyes with a sleepy confusion. "She left?" he asks.

I nod, a wry grin playing on my lips. "Like her ass was on fire."

Reggie lets out a resigned sigh, but Braden looks anything but defeated. There's a glint of determination in his eyes.

And that's when I realize: this isn't over.

Not by a long shot.

“Well,” Braden drawls, sitting up languidly and stretching his arms above his head like a cat basking in the sun. “Guess that just means we’ve gotta win her over.”

I blink, taken aback. “Win her over?”

He flashes a mischievous grin. “Yeah, man. Woo her. Romance. Look it up.”

I groan, rubbing the back of my neck in exasperation.

Reggie chuckles, tousling his unruly, fiery red hair with a casual hand. “He’s not wrong. We scared her off, sure, but that just means we’ve got to convince her we’re worth stickin’ around for.”

Braden points at him with a knowing nod. “Exactly. And lucky for us, we’ve got the perfect in. She needs help at the clinic now that her hand’s jacked up.”

My eyes narrow thoughtfully. “You’re suggesting we work for her?”

Braden shrugs nonchalantly. “Kenzie’s not like other girls. She’s not the type to just fall into our laps. And even if she was, I doubt she’d admit it. She’s got walls, man. We’ve gotta break ‘em down.”

I exhale slowly through my nose, mulling it over. He’s not wrong.

Kenzie’s fiercely independent, stubborn as a mule, and doesn’t seem like the type to let herself get too close to people.

She’s accustomed to handling things alone, her own way.

So what if we don’t let her?

Reggie claps his hands together with an infectious enthusiasm, his eyes shining with excitement. “All right then, lads . Let’s prove to her we’re not just a one-night stand. Let’s show her what she’s missing.”

I smirk, feeling the stirrings of determination. “You two really wanna do this?”

Braden grins widely, his eyes alight with challenge. “Absolutely.”

Reggie winks playfully. “C’mon, mate. You know you do, too.”

I sigh, a resigned smile tugging at my lips. They’re right. I do.

Kenzie thinks she can run from this.

But she has no idea what she’s up against.

I drag myself to my room, each step heavier than the last, as the exhaustion finally engulfs me now that the adrenaline of the night has ebbed away.

The moment I sink into the embrace of my bed, her scent envelops me. Something sweet, something distinctly Kenzie. It clings to my skin, teasing my senses with the vivid memory of her body nestled against mine, her gentle sighs, the warmth of her skin fusing with mine.

I rub my hand over my face, attempting to will away the thoughts that cling like a stubborn fog. But deep down, I know I don’t want to let them go.

I close my eyes, and like a relentless reel, my mind replays every second of the night.

I think of the way her eyes met mine with an unspoken connection, the way she unraveled under my touch. I remember her cheeks flushing an endearing shade of red when the guys teased her at the dinner table.

Fuck, she’s adorable. And terrifying. I think I actually like her. A lot.

I roll onto my stomach and bury my face into the pillow, groaning softly, hoping sleep will claim me before my thoughts spiral into even more bewildering territory.

Eventually, the weight of exhaustion overpowers my racing mind, and I drift into sleep, cocooned in the lingering scent of her presence.

When I wake up, the sun is already streaming through my blinds, casting warm streaks of gold across my bedroom walls.

The rich scent of freshly brewed coffee drifts through the house, enticing me to rise, yet I linger in bed for a moment longer, stretching my limbs, my muscles deliciously sore from the previous day’s exertions.

Kenzie.

I let out a groan, rolling onto my back, eyes wandering over the ceiling. Yeah, still thinking about her.

With a reluctant sigh, I drag myself up and head to the bathroom, peeling off my boxers and stepping into the steaming shower.

The hot water cascades over me, pounding rhythmically against my back, easing the stubborn knots in my shoulders. I tilt my head back, allowing the water to soak into my hair, its warmth enveloping me like a comforting embrace.

I need to get her out of my system.

But the moment I close my eyes, her image floods my mind. The way she gasped softly when I kissed her throat, the sensation of her fingers tangling intimately in my hair.

Damn it!

I shut off the water abruptly, determined to halt the spiral of my thoughts before they can carry me away.

With a towel wrapped snugly around my waist, I step out of the bathroom and vigorously rub at my damp hair.

My phone buzzes insistently from atop my nightstand, and I grab it, flipping it over.

Wyatt.

A smile tugs irresistibly at my lips as I swipe to answer, bringing the phone to my ear.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Dad!” Wyatt’s voice bursts with uncontainable excitement. “Guess what?”

“What’s up, kiddo?” I grin, settling comfortably onto the edge of my bed, the familiar warmth of fatherly pride spreading through my chest.

“I scored a goal in street hockey yesterday! And coach says my slapshot’s getting really good.”

I chuckle, the sound rich with affection. “That’s my boy.”

Wyatt’s face bursts onto the screen as he switches to FaceTime, his unruly brown hair flopping over his forehead like a tangled mop.

His grin stretches from ear to ear, revealing a noticeable gap where one of his front teeth should be.

I smirk playfully. “Lost another one, huh?”

“Yeah!” he exclaims, enthusiastically poking at the empty space with a finger. “The Tooth Fairy gave me ten bucks.”

I fake a gasp of disbelief. “Ten? Wow, your Tooth Fairy must be rolling in dough.”

He giggles, his small feet kicking energetically as he lies sprawled on his bed, a plush dragon nestled snugly under one arm. “Mom says it’s ‘cause I’ve been super brave at school.”

“Yeah?” I lean back against my headboard, settling in for his tale. “How’s third grade treating you?”

Wyatt eagerly dives into a story about his teacher, Mrs. Parker, who allows them the freedom to read any book they want for twenty minutes each morning. “Even hockey books, Dad. And I found this one about the greatest NHL goals of all time.”

“Great choice.” I grin, feeling a swell of pride. “Gotta study up so you can be the best, huh?”

“Uh-huh! And guess what else?” His eyes sparkle with excitement. “Coach says I might be ready for a real hockey team soon. Like, with jerseys and everything.”

My heart fills with pride at his enthusiasm. “That’s incredible, kiddo. We’ll practice together next time you visit, okay?”

His face lights up with joy. “Can I come soon?”

I stifle a chuckle, trying to keep the surprise in check. “Well, funny you say that…I was thinking,” I begin, watching as anticipation lights up his little face like a sunrise, “how about you come out next weekend? Stay with me for a whole week.”

Wyatt lets out an exuberant squeal, bouncing energetically on his bed like a spring-loaded toy. “YES! YES! I WANNA COME!”

I chuckle, shaking my head with affectionate amusement. “All right, all right, calm down, kiddo.”

“When? When do I get to come?” he asks, his eyes wide with excitement.

“I’ll talk to your mom and book your flight soon,” I reassure him.

Wyatt’s grin is so broad and infectious, it looks as though his face might split in two from sheer joy.

“Can we go to the rink? Can I meet your new team? Do they know who I am? Do they know you’re, like, the best?” he rattles off, his words tumbling over each other in his eagerness.

I laugh warmly. “We’ll see what we can do, bud.”

His enthusiasm is like a balm, momentarily lifting the fog of confusion and thoughts of Kenzie that have been swirling in my mind all morning. But then, the screen shifts, and Wyatt’s face is replaced by his mom’s. Lara. She brushes a stray blonde strand behind her ear with a casual grace.

“Hey, Ambrose,” she greets, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “So, a whole week, huh?”

I nod, determination in my voice. “Yeah. If that works for you, I’ll book the flight today. I’ll send you the details.”

She exhales, a soft sigh that speaks of both relief and acceptance, then nods. “All right. He’s been asking about you nonstop, so I guess this works out.”

A pang of guilt tugs at my gut, a familiar weight, but I push it aside. “I appreciate it, Lara.”

She dismisses my thanks with a wave of her hand. “I’ll get him packed. Just send me the itinerary.”

I nod again, and Wyatt’s eager face pops back on screen. “BYE DAD! SEE YOU SOON! LOVE YOU!” he shouts.

I smile, warmth flooding my chest. “Can’t wait, buddy. Love you!”

I set my phone down, already counting the days.

Next weekend can’t come soon enough.