Play Along(40)

He’s always harped on my lack of family but I’d take Kai any day over whatever the fuck you’d call the group in this room.

“Go ahead, Rhodes. It’ll impress his clients. Show them how much money he has to throw around.”

“Dean,” Jennifer scolds from the other end of the table. She then sends that same dirty glare in Kennedy’s direction for no reason, as if silently reminding the two of them that they’re the family’s biggest disappointments.

One is a fucking doctor and the other is a professional baseball player, which only speaks volumes to the priorities this family has. If you’re not in the family business, or contributing to the family business through marriage, you’re not important.

“I’m good,” I say quietly to Dean before checking in on the redhead at my side, who is very much not doing well.

No one else has spoken to her or her stepbrother.

Dean, I understand because he fucking sucks, but Kennedy . . . I can’t imagine not having all my attention on her.

She sits primly at my side. Listening intently to the conversation in case she’s needed. The perfect daughter. She nods and smiles, but no one has noticed her.

Mallory has, I guess. Connor too. Why else would they suddenly be all handsy with each other, as if they’re giving her a show to tell her what she’s missing out on.

The smallest entrée I’ve ever seen is served on the plate in front of me, and I catch Kennedy watching them throughout the course. Each bite is accompanied by a subtle glance to her stepsister, tracing the way her fingers toy with the ends of Connor’s hair. The way Connor turns and whispers into Mallory’s ear, earning an overacted laugh. The way he runs his palm up and down her leg.

Kennedy’s stare is full of . . . longing.

Is she jealous?

Does she miss him?

I can’t imagine when she was blackout drunk and asking me to marry her that she thought about this current reality—her sitting with me and having to watch them together.

Kennedy bends over to take a bite of her food, and I watch Connor glance down her dress from across the table. Mallory doesn’t notice her fiancé checking out his ex, but I sure as fuck do.

My blood instantly heats.

He doesn’t get to sit here and put on some public show with his new fiancée while still checking out his old.

Especially when his old fiancée is my new wife.

“Kenny,” I whisper.

She sits up, looking in my direction. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the tick of Connor’s jaw before I use a single finger to push the auburn hair away from her ear.

I lean down and whisper, so only she can hear. “Can I touch you?”

Goose bumps erupt along the skin of her neck, and I can’t help but smile at that.

“What do you mean?” Her words are too loud, and not at all intimate.

“Nope,” I whisper. “Curl into me, put your cheek against mine while you’re talking to me right now.”

She hesitates, so I slide my palm over her throat and up along her jaw, fingers intertwining her hair as I pull her in to speak with me quietly.

“Why?” she whispers.

“Because he’s watching and I want him to know that you’re mine.”

“He’s watching?”

I hate that her tone holds hope.

“Yeah,” I swallow. “So, tell me, Ken. Can I touch you?”

She squirms in her seat before nodding against me. “Okay.”

“A little more enthusiasm would be appreciated here.”

She chuckles. “Yes, Isaiah. You can touch me.”

Fuck me if I don’t get half hard just from those words alone.

“Just kick me under the table or something if it’s too much or you don’t like it.”

“I have no problem doing that.”

“Brat.”

She hums against me, and I’m fairly certain that was involuntary. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Whatever you want, I guess. Whatever would sell this.”

“Mmm.” This time it’s me purring at her words. “Such an agreeable wife.”

Her laugh is louder, but it’s genuine, no part of it for show.

I fucking love it.

She pulls away, a suppressed grin attempting to fight through when she returns her attention to her plate. I fix her hair, back to the way it was before I swept it behind her ear.

Eyes are on us right now, I can feel them, and I’ll let Kennedy believe this is all for show, but in truth, I’ve been dying for her to let me touch her for years. Been dying to have her attention. Been dying to simply sit and eat dinner next to the girl.

Wouldn’t mind if she caught up on that same need, but I’ll let her believe faking it is enough for now.

Henry and Jennifer are busy speaking with the Smiths so Mallory turns her attention to us. “I was wondering where you went off to the night of my bachelorette party.” Her eyes zero in on the ring on Kennedy’s finger—my mom’s ring. “I guess now we know.”

Kennedy is stiff in her seat next to me so I gently drape my arm on the back of her chair, fingertips toying with the strap of her dress.

She doesn’t flinch.

Mallory continues, still staring at Kennedy’s left hand. “Quite a downgrade if you ask me.”