The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient 2)

Ten minutes later, he turned onto the side street that led to his two-bedroom fixer-upper with demolition potential. Compared to the other remodeled and newly built homes in the area, his was a bit of an eyesore, but he bet no one else had the finely aged shag carpet. He pulled up next to his section of curb, cranked the parking brake, and turned the engine off.

“This is it,” he said.

CHAPTER FOUR

Esme still couldn’t forgive herself for lying like that. Did she want to get struck by the heavens? Why had she done it?

She knew why. Because she was a janitor/maid, and he was so much better. She’d wanted to impress him, to show him she was worth his time. But now she had to pretend she worked in accounting, when she didn’t even know what it was, and continue to keep her baby a secret. She was a liar, and she was ashamed of herself.

If she were a good person, she’d confess right now, but this feeling of being his equal was too addicting. It didn’t even matter that it was fake. She liked it anyway. She was already pretending to be something she wasn’t—a worldly sexy woman (though not very successfully, judging by her failed attempt at flirting earlier in the car). Why not go all the way and add smart and sophisticated to the list while she was at it?

When she died, demons were going to torment her for eternity instead of letting her reincarnate. Or worse, they’d let her reincarnate, but she’d be a catfish who lived under a river outhouse. It was only fair. That was what she got for wishing food poisoning on people.

Kh?i got out of the car, and she followed suit. The crunch of her shoes on rocks was unnaturally loud to her ears, and her head spun as she looked down at her feet. When was the last time she’d eaten? She was too tired to remember.

Working her jaw to wake herself up, she forced herself to take in the surrounding area. The houses were so plain compared to the mansions she’d imagined. And short—one level only, for most of them. The air. She filled her lungs. What was this smell?

After a moment, she realized it was the lack of smell. She couldn’t smell garbage and rotting fruit. A haze of exhaust didn’t darken the sunset to tamarind-colored rust. She rubbed her jet-lagged eyes and admired a sky painted in bright hues of apricot and hya

cinth.

What a difference an ocean made.

Homesickness hit her then, and she almost missed the pollution. Something familiar would have been nice as she stood there, on an unknown street, in an unknown city, in a world far away from everyone she loved. What time was it in Vi?t Nam? Was Ng?c Anh—no, it was Jade now—sleeping? Did she miss her momma? Her momma missed her.

If she were home, she’d lie down next to her, kiss her little hands, and press their foreheads together like she always did before she went to sleep.

She tripped and would have fallen if it weren’t for the mailbox, and Kh?i aimed a disapproving look at her shoes after he pulled her suitcase out of the trunk. “You’re better off walking barefoot than wearing those.”

“But they’re so useful. It’s like having a shoe and a knife.” She slipped both shoes off and made a stabbing motion with one of them.

He considered her for a serious moment, not laughing, not even smiling, and she pursed her lips and stared down at her bare toes. There she went, failing at flirting again. In her defense, it had been a long time since she’d dated a man, and she’d forgotten how.

As she gazed at her unattractive toes—she hated the unshapely hands and feet she’d inherited from her green-eyed dad; there was nothing elegant or appealing about them—she noticed the scary weeds choking Kh?i’s yard. “What if I step on all the thorns?” She sent him a smile that she hoped looked sexy. “Will you carry me?”

He brought her suitcase to the front door without looking at her. “Stay on the concrete, and you’ll be fine.”

Skipping after him, she said, “I can clean the yard for you. I’m good at it.”

He fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. “I like it the way it is.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the yard again to make sure she hadn’t imagined everything, and, nope, it was still a jungle of thorns, tangled vines, and dried-up bushes.

He’d been wrong earlier when he said Esme was the stranger of the two of them. He won that contest without even trying. He was easily the strangest person she’d ever met. She didn’t know him well yet, but she’d picked up on his strangeness right away. He didn’t look her in the eyes when he spoke, he wore all black, he liked this wasteland of a yard, and he said the oddest things. It gave her hope.

Odd was good. Odd was an opportunity.

Besides, she was odd, too. Just not as odd as he was.

“You’re very . . . open-minded,” she hedged.

He looked at her like he thought she was crazy, and she mentally kicked herself.

“Why do you park on the street when you have that?” She pointed to his garage. Judging from the size of the door, he could fit two cars in there. It didn’t make sense that he parked his nice car on the street. Not unless he had three cars, which she doubted he could afford based on the state of his yard and house.

Instead of answering her question, he let them into the house. She wondered if he hadn’t heard or if he’d purposely ignored her, but she let it slide. The inside of his house was stranger than the outside, with thick carpet that looked more like grass than his lawn, exercise equipment all over the main room, and fixtures and blinds from a different era. After setting her shoes on the floor, she followed Kh?i down a narrow hall, and the soft carpet fibers hugged her bare feet with every step.

He set her suitcase in a small room that contained a desk, sofa, and closet. When she noticed the old wallpaper, tears stung her eyes. Teddy bears, beach balls, dolls, ballet slippers, and building blocks. This used to be a child’s room. She touched her fingertips to the ballet slippers. Jade would love this.