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Her heart hardened. She made sure she spoke in a cold, firm voice. “She’s not, Nate. And she never will be. Not with you.”

He jerked back only once. Stiffened his shoulders. And nodded. “Got it.” He disguised the hurt, but she knew her comment hit home and pierced deep. “What’s next?”

“Saturday. Mall. Meet you at ten?”

She wished his gaze didn’t burn, disrobe, and try to expose her for the fake she was. Kennedy made sure she kept the bright smile pasted to her face. A heavy silence pulsed between them with unspoken words. “Fine.” Then he left without another word.

Kennedy squeezed her arms around her chest for warmth and reminded herself she had done the right thing for both of them.

nine

I HATE MALLS.”

Kennedy glanced over. Nate was definitely grouchy. Why were men never pumped to get new clothes and a sizzling look? Maybe it was some type of gene the male population lacked. She felt truly sorry for them all. “Cheer up. We have a game plan, and I’m not dragging you in and out of a million stores. We need to hit the eye place first.”

She walked with purpose into the vision center and spoke to the woman at the front desk. “Dr. Murphy is just running a little late. Can you take a seat?”

“Sure.” She led Nate to the waiting area, but he didn’t sit. Just paced back and forth. “Geez, a bit over the caffeine limit today?”

“I don’t like eye doctors.”

She laughed, then realized he was dead serious. A panicked gleam lit his eyes, barely visible from behind his thick frames. “She’s not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure she fits the contact lenses correctly.”

“No contacts.”

She studied him. The stubble sculpted his jaw and lined his upper lip, giving him an edge. His brows were now perfectly separated, and the slight wave in his hair set off the hint of blond, warming his skin. But her pièce de résistance would be the glasses, and she needed to address his concerns. “Why not?”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t like them.”

She remained patient. “Why?”

He leaned in and hissed out the words. “I don’t like anything in my eye, okay? I am not sticking my finger at my eyeball. Forget it. Let’s just get out of here.”

She bit back her smile. “I hear you. Everyone has something—mine happens to be the GYN. I see stirrups and shudder.”

“TMI, Ken.”

She laughed. “Sorry. Look, just go through the exam and we’ll talk. I don’t want to make you do something you hate, but the types they have nowadays are really different. Will you promise to try? If you hate it, we’ll get you new frames and forget it.”

He let out an aggravated breath. “Fine. But I won’t like it.”

“Nate Dunkle?”

He shot her a glare and followed the doctor into her office. The exam was short, and they were set up at the counter to try some contacts. A pretty woman in a white coat lined up some supplies. Her eyes were a startling blue green that contrasted dramatically with her black hair. She introduced herself as Tracey and went into her spiel about the way to wear contacts, the kind the doctor recommended, and how to maneuver them.

“What are the statistics on eye damage from contact lenses?” Nate asked.

“Umm, I’m not sure, but as long as you follow the instructions for care, it’s pretty low.”

“How low?”

Kennedy slid her hand over the counter and squeezed his hand. Hard. “Nate, most of the population wears them. Give it a try.”

Tracey seemed to sense his fear and smiled brightly. “You’ll look amazing. Your current frames are a bit outdated.”

“How many instances have occurred with the lenses scratching a person’s cornea and causing blindness?”

Tracey blinked. “Umm, I’m sure I can find out for you if I Google it.”

Kennedy squeezed again. “Just try it. Now.”

He muttered something under his breath and took the lens. Tracey guided him through the procedure, until both were safely in his eyes. He blinked madly and stared into the mirror. “How do they feel? They look amazing,” Tracey said.

It took a while for him to answer. “Not bad. Actually, I can’t even feel them.”

The assistant lit up. “See, I told you. Why don’t you wear these for the day, and if they work, we’ll order a three-month supply.”

He kept staring in the mirror as if fascinated by the technology. “Damn, everything’s so clear. I can see better than with glasses.”

Tracey nodded with enthusiasm. “The frames actually limit your line of vision. I’m so happy you like them. You look amazing.”

Kennedy stifled her giggle. The woman seemed to know only that one word—amazing. But what the hell. She seemed enchanted by Nate. Another good opportunity to see if he’d learned a few lessons. “Doesn’t he?” she cooed. “Wait till the females get a look at you.”

Tracey looked confused. “You’re not married?”

“No, Nate’s free and single.”

Tracey sharpened her gaze. Took in his hair, face, and new eyes. Kennedy noticed she winced at his outfit but was able to overlook it for now. “How wonderful. Well, Nate, I’d be glad to give you my number and you can call me anytime with your questions.”

He was so intrigued with his reflection, he didn’t answer. Kennedy nudged him again. Harder. “Oh! Yes, sounds good. I guess they make color contacts, too. I like the ones you’re wearing.”

Tracey shook her head. “Oh, I’m not wearing contacts; this is my real eye color.”

“You have beautiful eyes,” Kennedy offered.

“No, they’re contacts. I can see the lines around her pupil. Her real eye color is brown.”

Tracey stopped smiling. “You must be mistaken.”

Uh. Oh.

“No, I’m not. Just like your hair, it’s obviously not black since I can see the roots coming in. How come you changed it? I like brown hair with brown eyes.”

Tracey froze. Her voice dripped icicles. “I’ll write up your bill, Mr. Dunkle. If you have a problem, you can call the customer care center.” She stalked away, hair swishing, and Kennedy dropped her face into her hands and groaned.

“What? What’d I say?”

Kennedy wondered if another dog collar session with higher electrical shock capacity would make a difference. “You broke the cardinal rule again. Again. I thought you read Cosmo!”

“I do. I never said a word about her body. Or her weight, or age. I gave her a compliment.”

She lowered her voice to a hiss. “Some backhanded compliment. You mentioned her roots. And called her a liar. Yeah, that’ll get you to the first date.”

His mind clicked for a few moments. Finally, he groaned. “Crap, I did. Sorry, I was distracted by being able to see so clearly. It’s intriguing how sharp the world looks.”

“Forget it. Let’s get out of here and get you some new clothes.”

She averted the stores with loud rap music and teen clothes, and started in J.Crew. She wove in and out of the Saturday crowds with the ease of an expert. He stumbled behind her, trying to keep up, muttering “Excuse me” to a bunch of people before reaching their destination. The buzz of adrenaline lit up her blood, and she needed to breathe deeply to remain calm. God, she loved shopping. Everything about it revved her up. The limitless possibilities of sales, new looks, confidence, and hope. And shoes. Oh, my, the shoes . . .