Page 53 of Miss Understanding

Once we went into the reception hall, I grabbed a moment to myself, slipping out the back door to breathe in the frozen air. I had no coat, yet I didn’t feel the cold. A voice brought me out of my internal thoughts.

“There you are, handsome.”

I turned toward the door to see Tonya. We’d dated for all of two months in high school. Although she’d aged well and still had a rockin’ body, my dick didn’t even stir in her presence.

“Hello.”

“You, uh, interested in finding a quiet corner? Warmer than having to escape outside.”

I was, but not if it included her.

It was as if she read my mind. “Try downstairs where they have the day care. They have restrooms down there if you need a minute.”

“Thanks, Tonya.”

“Anytime, sugar.”

I took a breath when I heard the door shut again. Perhaps I would take a moment and go downstairs to collect my thoughts. I went back in and skirted around the back though I did catch a glimpse of Kendall. She looked lovely in a black wrap dress. Her hair was back in a low ponytail, and she was happily manning the food tables. I could already hear the murmurs of people’s compliments about the catering.

It took me a minute to find the stairs down, but once I did, it was just as Tonya described. Quiet. I went into the men’s room and splashed water on my face, afterward studying my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were drooping. My face pale. I was tired. And in dire need of a good, punishing workout. The type to get my blood flowing and my mind back where it needed to be. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough for my return to California.

Anger unexpectedly coursed through me. I cursed out loud, talking myself down from hitting a wall or a mirror. I wouldn’t. No. I was in control. Only I could feel it slipping. Feel the careful façade I’d built over the years, the one exuding confidence and composure, start to crumble. My skin was tight. My breathing uneven. Maybe I was having a nervous breakdown. Or an anxiety attack of some sort. The sound of a soft knock took me off guard.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kendall

The food was a hit. Liam’s mother came up to thank me profusely for such a lovely spread, making all of the stress and hard work worth it. Not even the snow had kept a crowd of sixty from coming out. I was happy to provide what little comfort I could to her and the family.

Allison walked up with her youngest daughter on her hip. “God, these meatballs are the best thing ever. Well, maybe not compared to the quiche or these little salmon things. You are in the wrong job, Kendall. You need to cater.”

“Thank you. I’m just glad it worked out okay.”

“I would guess it worked out better than the food from the place in Blacksburg.” She scanned the people in the spacious room. “Have you seen my brother?”

“No. Not since after the service.” I’d seen him walk out. He’d looked a bit lost. And I’d had to keep myself from going up to take his hand. But in light of what I may or may not have said early this morning, I kept my distance. My thoughts were hazy as to whether he’d carried me to my bed. And as to whether I’d told him it wasn’t the way I’d imagined. Or maybe it had been part of my dream? I’d been so tired I’d been delirious.

One of the church ladies approached me with a smile. “Did you bring any coffee to serve with the desserts, my dear?”

“No. I didn’t.” My shoulders sagged as I realized I should’ve thought of it.

“No worries. We have some. It’s downstairs in the storage room, though.”

“I’ll go get it if you give me directions.”

I set off for the coffee with explicit directions: go down the steps and turn left past the restrooms until you hit the room at the end of the hallway.

As soon as I came up on the men’s restroom, however, I heard a loud curse followed by some muttering. Huh. It sounded like Liam. I paused, about to move on when I heard it again. This time there was no mistaking his voice. I felt like I’d recognize it anywhere.

Not knowing what to expect, I knocked on the men’s room door. When there was no answer, I let out a soft, “Hello.”

Liam opened the door and, for a moment, looked completely out of sorts.

“You okay?”

“Fine. What are you doing down here?”

He didn’t look fine. He looked as if he wanted to run far, far away.