Page 9

Kennedy

T he hot spray hit my skin, and I winced in pain until it felt delightful. An hour of sleep never felt so good. Soon enough, pangs of regret from having sex with my soon-to-be ex-husband would start to kick me in the stomach.

Toweling off, I heard the apartment door open and determined footsteps sounded down the long hallway. I needed coffee and food. And to tell Seb, this wasn’t happening again.

I hated this purgatory he’d kept me in because he wouldn’t sign the divorce papers. Not that I needed the divorce. I had zero plans to get married again.

Groaning, I found my clothes from last night. The sheer blouse, tight skirt, lace bra, and matching thong lay scattered all over the bedroom floor. I slid all that lace on yesterday morning never imagining I’d be staring at them on the floor of a freaking Hart penthouse apartment.

Keeping my long blonde hair wet, I brushed it out thanks to the comb I kept in my purse. I left the bedroom in a towel to find Seb.

In the living room, the tall body stilled me. Skin. That’s all I saw. Wide shoulders, smooth muscular back, and a sexy curve down to a delicious naked bubble butt. Okay, how could it hurt to bite and kiss it one more time?

Hang on , my brain fuzzed out.

Why had Seb gotten naked in the living room?

My naked God tensed up and turned around.

“Jesus!” Grayson shrieked and covered his crotch. “Kennedy?”

The rumor the youngest Hart brother had a thing for walking around naked had been proven true. “Hey there, Grayson,” I managed, staring at his angled pecs and grooved abs.

He sauntered up to me. “If this is some kind of game to get back at Seb for being a jerk, baby, I’m on board.”

I laughed. The Hart brothers were rakes and playboys. They’d all flirted with me, but only on the surface to see if they could make me blush. “If Seb hadn’t worn me out all last night, I might have said yes.”

“Really?” His voice got low sounding terrified that I’d called his bluff.

“No.” I wanted to lean in for a kiss hello. I hadn’t seen Grayson in nearly a year. But he was naked and I was in a towel. “Tristan said you were...somewhere else.” I tried to put my eyes somewhere else, but the man was breathtaking.

“I’m home this weekend for the wedding.” He shifted from side to side, all while holding his junk.

I glanced back at the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Oh shoot. Do you have a...a date here?”

“Not right now.” He dropped his hands.

“Grayson!” I blinked. “I’m still standing here.”

“You’re a doctor.” He waved my concern away. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“She’s a fucking anesthesiologist, Gray,” Seb bellowed, charging into the living room with a white bakery bag and a tray of coffees. “Not a urologist or proctologist. Please put some clothes on.”

“This is my damn apartment. Did you bring me any food?”

Seb put down the bag and coffees on the open kitchen counter. “No. Tristan said you were out gallivanting. That’s why we’re in your apartment. The villas were booked.”

“Which bed did you use?” Gray asked.

“That one.” Kennedy pointed to the right.

“Interesting.” He scratched his chin, still not covering up.

“Which is your room, Gray?” Seb asked, moving in front of me. “I’m sorry if we violated your space.”

“No problem.” Gray slapped Seb’s chest and headed back toward the bedrooms. He bent over and grabbed a duffle bag from the floor with a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt hanging from the sides.

Seb shook his head and glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry about that.”

“We should get going. Give him his apartment back.”

“We’re supposed to be staying here at the hotel, though. That was the plan, Kenna.”

“Right.” I nodded tightly, looking in the bag he brought in. The smell of eggs, cheese, and bacon made my mouth water. My favorite, damn him.

Seb exhaled. “Can you please get dressed? Both you and Gray naked in the same apartment gets me very nervous. I’ll get us some plates and napkins.”

“Like this?” I dropped the towel and skipped back to my room, laughing.

“That’s not funny, Kennedy!” Seb hollered as I scampered away, giggling.

Sleeping with Seb wouldn’t help with my divorce quest. Threatening to sleep with one of his cousins gave me a better shot. Although, there wasn’t a man I wanted more than Seb. I wanted him . Home with me every night and not poking athletes.

In the bedroom, I slipped my clothes back on then found Seb in Gray’s kitchen.

I smiled, noticing his clothes from last night, trousers, dress shirt, and sports jacket were as adorably wrinkled as mine.

A far cry from the polished look he maintained nowadays.

I’d met that guy in jeans and tee-shirts goofing off in medical school.

Now he was a famous surgeon and a billionaire.

In a kitchen of stainless-steel appliances and bright red subway tiles with matching pendants over the breakfast bar, I stared at the food.

“You know what, give the other sandwich to Gray, I’m gonna head out.

I need to pack up in time to take Savannah to the dress shop.

We have an appointment to grab our dresses shortly after she gets into town. ”

“I was kind of hoping I could tag along with you guys today. That is...what I would have done, Kenna.”

I stared at him, biting back the comment that he probably wouldn’t have taken the entire weekend off for his sister if he rarely had taken a day off for me . “Okay.”

He nudged the plate toward me. “Eat something. Then we’ll leave together and meet back here.”

The entire family was staying on PH2, a floor with six villas below that one. Needing strength, I bit into the sandwich. That chemistry when Seb looked at me for more than thirty seconds was my undoing.

“Kenna, thank you,” he whispered, pushing his sandwich around on a plate.

“You said that already.” I sipped my coffee. “I told you, I don’t want to ruin Savannah’s wedding. I’m doing this for her really, not you.”

“Can we...” He bit his lip.

“Eat, Seb. We got quite the workout last night.”

“No shit.” He lifted the sandwich and took a bite.

The man was too damn handsome for his own good.

In medical school, he was a dorky boy with glossy dark hair and a tall lean build.

In the last ten years, he’d filled out. His face had the hard lines of a man in his early thirties.

His body had transformed into a work of art with deliciously cut muscles, and a sexy thickness about him. Everywhere.

We were both gym rats, but our schedules had always been upside down. Only once in a while had we been able to go for a run in Central Park together.

How many Susan G. Komen races had I done alone, and he’d not even gone to cheer me on because some idiot dove for a ball to win the game and then needed emergency surgery?

Yay, team!

Too many to count, causing my marriage to crumble.