by Kelsie Rae
“She’s happy.”
“I hope she is.”
“You can’t see it?” he asks.
Tearing my attention from the two most important people in my life, I glance over at Brock again. “I can see it.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t.”
My brows twitch up toward my hairline before I cover my surprise with indifference. “Look, I know that I put you in a bad position, and––”
“Let me finish, Owen.”
I sigh but keep my mouth shut.
Slowly, Brock lifts the steaming cup of coffee to his lips and takes another sip. I sure as hell hope it’s decaf, or the bastard’s going to be awake for the rest of the night.
His lips smack together, savoring the rich flavor from his French-pressed cup. “I know what I told you that night. That she deserved more than to be your sideline girl while you went and lived your life. I know that you didn’t agree but were too respectful to argue with your girlfriend’s dad. I know that if I hadn’t spoken with you that night, you wouldn’t have broken her heart on this very porch.”
I swallow thickly. “I’m the one that approached you, Mr. Swenson––”
“I still stand by my observation that you were both young and stupid, you know,” he interrupts. “But I should’ve let you make your own decisions. Your own potential mistakes. I was being overprotective and”––he studies me carefully––“maybe a little callous toward you.”
Scratching my chin, I tear my gaze away from his and look at Grady before putting myself in Brock’s shoes. I’ve done it more times than I can count since Grady was born, but this is the first time I really understand Brock’s perspective and the guilt he must be carrying around for intervening in his daughter’s relationship without her knowledge.
“I get it,” I rasp. “If Grady brought home a girl at sixteen and told me that he was going to marry her one day, I would think he was full of shit.”
“Yeah, but you would’ve probably had the decency to keep your nose out of their business instead of giving him an ultimatum between his future and his girlfriend.”
“I asked for your permission,” I counter.
“It was a promise ring, not an engagement.”
I scoff. “We both know that it was the same thing to me.”
He lifts his chin in agreement and takes another sip of his drink before sighing softly. “I shouldn’t have asked you to choose.”
“I should’ve chosen her.”
Brock smiles. “Don’t think I don’t remember what you said to me that night. You told me that you used to live for football before you met Say––”
“And now I live for her,” I repeat, living in the memory as if it were yesterday.
“But I didn’t believe you. I couldn’t see that you wanted to pursue your dreams so that you could provide for hers. And even when you told me you’d give up your future in football, I forced you to see the bigger picture. That you weren’t old enough to make a decision like that over a girl. I put you in a no-win situation, Owen. And that was a shitty thing to do. I was selfish. I wanted her to stay close. I didn’t want her to follow you across the country.” He shakes his head, his grip tightening around the mug that Say had painted for him when she was a little kid.
Again, I put myself in his shoes. I’d be protective with Grady, too, and I can’t even imagine keeping my Papa Bear in check with a little girl like Saylor.
“I get it,” I rasp again.
“Doesn’t make it right,” he counters. “She’s my baby girl, Owen. She might be almost thirty now, but she’s still my baby girl.”
“I know.”
His eyes glisten with unshed tears, but he swallows them back and admits, “I didn’t know how to let go.”
“I wasn’t asking you to,” I choke out. The memories swirl around me like the fog on a cold winter morning.
“I know that now.” His nod is somber. Almost reverent. “I need to know that you won’t hurt her again. That you won’t leave without her again.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, sir.”
He sniffs, then takes another swig of his drink, running his thumb across the rim slowly, over and over again, as he mulls over something in his head.
“Just…make her happy,” he murmurs. “I’ve seen it with Sway and Anthony, I thought I saw it with Liam and Skye before he broke her heart, and I know that I saw it when Say was younger with you.” He lifts his chin toward his daughter, who’s helping Grady build a snowman. “And now, as I look at her playing with your little boy in the snow, I can see it again. I was so afraid of losing her that I did lose her. Her vibrant smile. Her vivacious need to explore and to live. She was just a shell before you turned back up. And right now, looking at her over there, I just…I’m sorry, Owen.”
“Me too. For hurting her and for taking so damn long to get my head out of my ass and fight for what I want.”
“Too long,” he agrees, his eyes shining with mirth. “But I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me too. And thank you for this chat. I needed it.”
“Don’t mention it, Owen.”
A snowball explodes at our feet, cutting off our conversation as giggles ensue from the snow-covered front lawn. My neck snaps toward the culprits.
Feigning innocence, Saylor points at Grady. “He did it!”
Grady’s jaw drops. “Uh-uh! Say did it!”
“Nope. Totally Grady,” she teases.
He grabs her waist and tries to tackle her but can’t get any traction from the powdery snow.
“Why. Won’t. You. Fall?” he growls through bouts of giggles, his little legs sliding across the ground as if he’s on an ice rink.
Say’s hair blows in the wind as she cackles even louder. “Muah-hahaha! I’m the all-powerful Snow Goddess!”
I laugh and pat Brock on the back. “I better get that carrot they were asking for before the Snow Goddess throws another snowball at us.”
“Hey! It was Grady!” Say yells.
“Uh-huh, sure,” Brock returns before calling out, “Grady! Go for her knees! Go for her knees, boy!”
Chuckling under my breath, I go and grab a carrot from the kitchen before my heavy boots carry me back to where I belong.
With Say and Grady.
23
Saylor
The house was dark when I got home later that night, but I climbed into bed and fell asleep with a hesitant smile etched into my skin. The day was perfect. And the next morning, I find out that I’m not the only one who had a memorable Sunday evening. I feel like I entered the Twilight Zone as soon as I woke up to the sound of Liam sneaking out our front door.
“So, let me get this straight,” I ask, my eyebrows pinched as I interrogate a very happy Skye for the hundredth time since she spilled the beans this morning. “You’re getting divorced?”
“Yup. I’m getting divorced,” Skye announces.
“But you love him,” I conclude.
“Yup.”
“And he proposed.”
A big, dopey grin stretches across her face, and she looks down at her hand resting against the kitchen counter. It’s sporting a gorgeous new engagement ring.
“Yup,” she answers.
My brain feels like it’s short-circuiting as I try to piece together the information she’s thrown my way.
Rubbing my temples, I confirm, “And you said, ‘Yes.’”
“Sure did,” she replies.
“And you’re moving out?”
She nods. “Right again, my friend.”
“Are you moving back into his parents’ house?”
Skye was a live-in nanny for Liam’s little brother before Liam screwed everything up by returning home and asking Skye for a gigantic favor in the form of a fake marriage that wound up becoming very real.
“Nope.” She shudders. “We’re going to go look at apartments for now. I think it’ll end up being our home base. Then the
rest of the time, we’ll travel the world and help those who are less fortunate than us.”
Yup. I definitely entered the Twilight Zone.
“You’re serious,” I decide, inspecting her like she’s been captured by a body snatcher, and she’s not my real sister anymore. Her cheeks are flushed, and she looks happier and more alive than I’ve seen in months. Actually, I haven’t seen her this happy since she found out about Liam’s lie. It ripped her apart.
“Yup. Dead serious,” she replies, her tone brooking no argument.
“And you’re okay with this?”
Laughing, she walks around the counter and pulls me into a hug. “I’ve never been happier, Say. It’s like every single piece fell into place. He’s even giving me a divorce so we can have a real wedding. The one that I wanted. With the dress. And the church. And the man of my dreams that I’m marrying for the right reason…because I love him.”
With a giant bear hug, I squeeze her as tight as I can and murmur, “I’m happy for you, Skye.”
“Me too.”
“Normally, I’d say we should celebrate with a yummy breakfast or something, but I need to get to work, and you need to shower.”
Her jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
“No offense, but you smell like sex.”
Cheeks on fire, she buries her head in her hands as a light laugh escapes her. “You did not just say that.”
“I most certainly did. Now. Chop-chop, little sister. We’ll celebrate tonight.”
Cringing, she chews her thumbnail while avoiding my gaze like it’s the plague.
“What is it?” I ask.
Her attention darts over to me before continuing its perusal of the room. “I mean…I kinda, sorta, maybe made plans with Liam––”
I wave her off. “Oh. Say no more. I get it.”
“I can cancel––”
“Don’t. We’re good, Skye. Trust me. I get it.”
“You do?”
“Of course. You deserve to spend every single minute with Liam for the rest of your life if that’s where you’re happiest. And I can attest that when you’re with Liam, that’s definitely where you’re happiest.”
Chewing her lower lip, she argues, “I know, but––”
“But you don’t want to leave your lonely sister behind?”
She grimaces. “Maaaaybe?”
“Well, I have news for you, little sister. If you hadn’t bailed on dinner last night, you’d know that I brought a certain guest to Mom and Dad’s house.”
Eyes like saucers, she gasps. “A certain guest with the affectionate and aptly chosen nickname of The Big O?”
With a wry grin, I mimic her word from earlier. “Maaaaybe?”
“Saylor!” she yells before practically tackling me with a bear hug. “How did you not tell me?! I’m so freaking happy for you!”
“Me too,” I reply into a head full of her hair. “Me too. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I kind of…didn’t have the chance.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re totally fine, I promise. And you know what?”
“What?” I ask.
“We deserve this.”
“Ya think? Personally, I’m kinda, sorta waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“It won’t.” She squeezes me a little tighter, then pulls away. “We deserve our happily ever afters, Saylor. And now that we have them, we need to appreciate them and not take them for granted. Deal?”
I nod. “Deal.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to go shower because apparently, I smell like sex.”
A light laugh slips out of me. “But was it good sex?”
That familiar blush spreads across her cheeks. “Maaaaybe.”
“Then, it’s worth the shower,” I quip. “Want me to wait for you?”
“Nah, I’ll drive separately. No worries. See you at school!”
“See ya,” I call back as she retreats to the bathroom. With a big, dopey smile, I lift the mug of my morning coffee to my lips and breathe deep. For the first time ever, everything feels like it’s falling into place, and instead of dreading it, I decide to welcome it with both arms.
Because Skye’s right. We deserve our happily ever afters.
Right?
A strong set of arms wraps around my waist and pulls me into a hard chest as soon as I climb out of my car in the school parking lot.
With a gasp, I glance over my shoulder then melt. “Why, hello, stranger.”
“Good morning, Beautiful,” Owen greets me. The warmth from his lips brands my cheek before he puts a bit more space between us. And even though I miss it instantly, it’s probably for the best. We’re in the parking lot of the elementary school, for Pete’s sake. Still, that freshly shaven jaw is begging to be licked, and the scent of his aftershave wafts through the air. Unable to help myself, I run my fingers along his chiseled cheek.
“You look handsome today,” I mention before registering an adorable little kid beside him. As I drop my arm back down to my side, my smile widens. “And so do you, Grady. Hi. How are ya, bud?”
With a quick wave, he returns, “Hi, Miss Swenson.”
“We’re not in the school quite yet.” I wink. “You can still call me Saylor.”
He grins back at me. “Deal.”
“Hey, Grady, why don’t you go into class?” Owen interrupts. “I want to ask Saylor a quick question before the bell rings.”
“Okay.”
He takes a couple of steps toward the school’s entrance before Owen calls him back and squats down. “Wait. Where’s my hug?”
“Oops.” Grady’s tiny arms wrap around Owen’s neck in the sweetest bear hug I’ve ever witnessed.
“Be good,” Owen murmurs.
“I will.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
After releasing him, Owen adds, “I’ll pick you up in your classroom, okay?”
“Okay. Bye, Dad. Bye, Saylor.”
“See ya!” I call out as Grady takes off at full speed.
“And don’t run!” Owen yells, watching Grady’s little legs eat up the distance to the entrance.
With a laugh, I take in Owen’s concerned expression as he waits for his son to slip on some ice before I squeeze his arm playfully.
“You’re cute when you’re overprotective,” I tease. “But don’t worry. There’s plenty of salt on the pavement. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
“That kid’s gonna be the death of me,” Owen mutters under his breath. His focus stays glued to the sweetest little boy I’ve ever met until the heavy doors swing closed behind Grady.
Letting my fingers trail along the zipper of Owen’s coat, I ask, “So…what’d you want to talk about?”
He grips the back of his neck and rocks back on his heels. “I, uh, I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”
My mouth quirks up on one side. “I mean, we might have to find a bit of privacy, but––”
His dark chuckle sends tingles racing down my spine. “Not that kind of favor, but I appreciate the sentiment.” He tangles our fingers together, warming my icy grip as the chilly air swirls around us. “Do you remember me mentioning that interview a while back?”
I frown. “What interview?”
“For the college championship banquet.”
“Oh.” My brows furrow. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat and steps closer. “I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”
Nibbling on my thumbnail, I take a deep breath and ask, “Um…when is it?”
“It’s next week. You’d have to take a couple of days off from work, though. I know it’s short notice and that you might not be comfortable with the whole football aspect and everything, but I’d love it if you’d come with me.”
Football aspect.
I snort, but my eyes well with tears regardless.
“Hey.” He cups my cheek and almost drowns me with his concern as he runs his thumb along m
y skin while trying to figure out why I just lost my shit over a simple invitation.
Good question, Owen. I have no idea.
“Why are you crying?” he whispers.
“It’s just…all I ever wanted was to be part of that with you, ya know? The banquets. The games. The rallies. All of it.” My lower lip trembles. “I wanted to show my support. To show my love. And how proud I was of you. For everything you accomplished. And I––”
“Shhh.” He pulls me into his chest and presses a warm kiss to my forehead. “I’m so sorry, Say––”
“I know,” I interject. “I know you are. And I know that this response is totally over the top right now. I just…I’m sorry I missed it, and now I’m sorry that the idea of being surrounded by all things football is kind of terrifying. Like I have PTSD or something. Which is ridiculous.” I cover my face with my hands and laugh dryly. “I’m acting like a crazy person.”
“You’re not a crazy person. And I’m sorry I didn’t let you experience it with me the first time, Say,” he rasps before prying my fingers from my face while demanding my full attention. “But I’d love for you to experience it with me now. Trust me. That’s my first choice. You. Me. Away for a long weekend. With a hotel room to ourselves. No cockblocking sons.” He smirks. “Just us.”
“That does sound kind of amazing,” I admit.
“But,” he adds, “if you’re not ready for that, then I’d love for Grady to experience some one-on-one time with you here.”
My breath hitches. “Y-you want me to watch Grady while you’re away?”
“If you’re not comfortable coming, then yeah. I just…I want you to be part of my life, Say. In every aspect. I trust you.”
“What about your parents? They’re still here––”
“Grady loves them,” Owen rushes out. “And I love them, but I love you even more. I want you and Grady to get to know each other more outside of the classroom, too. But if you’re not ready for that, either, I get it. We’ll go at your pace, Say.”
Lost in my own thoughts, my focus goes blurry as I consider my options before the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I look over my shoulder and turn to stone in Owen’s arms.