“Are you gonna kiss him?” Instead of making an icky face like she would’ve expected, he cast her a hopeful smile. “Because if you do, then Dom says you gotta get married. And that’s good because Tristan would have to be my dad, right?”
Her anticipation turned to apprehension. “Sweetie, just because we’re going on a date, doesn’t mean anything special. I mean, it’s special because it’s extra fun, but that doesn’t have anything to do with getting married. In fact, you need to know that probably won’t happen. Probably when baseball season’s over, Tristan’s going back to work in the navy.”
“No, he won’t.” Cayden raised his chin. “I told him I love him and I know he loves me, so once he loves you and Mac, he’s never going to leave.”
* * *
BRYNN WISHED SHE COULD IGNORE the pang Cayden’s statement created in her chest, but instead it served as the catalyst to get him professional help ASAP. Odds were, Tristan was going to leave, and when he did, what kind of hole would that create in her son’s already fragile heart? Even as an adult, Brynn wasn’t immune to Cayden’s brand of fear. How could she enjoy her day with Tristan if the whole time she was with him, she only focused on the question of when—or even if—he was leaving?
How? By sheer will she was determined to put aside nagging worries in order to make this day special for not only her kids, but herself.
Walking down the street with Tristan, Cayden riding his shoulders while she pushed Mackenzie’s decorated stroller to find the perfect position to watch the parade, it occurred to Brynn that this was the first time she’d been able to relax and enjoy herself as opposed to being part of the spectacle. As Mack’s wife, she’d usually been assigned a special place to sit and had to make small talk with local and regional bigwigs. Not that she’d minded, but it was nice just being part of the crowd.
“What do you think?” Tristan asked Cayden in front of Bell Shoes. “Does this look like a good spot?”
“Yeah!” Cayden clapped to see the Ruin Bayou High School band already marching down the street. “Hey—just like in that ‘Yankee Doodle’ song, they have feathers in their hats!”
Brynn and Tristan laughed.
“Cool! Look!” Cayden pointed up at an airplane with a banner streaming behind it. It said Happy Fourth from D-Shawn’s Lumber! “That’s the coolest thing ever!”
“Sure is...” Tristan was staring, too.
Funny, but all Brynn had eyes for were her two handsome men. The two of them got along so well. Sometimes so well, she felt she should pinch herself in case she might be dreaming.
As float after float passed and beauty queens and Shriners in their tiny cars, Cayden had not only filled his pockets with candy and Mardi Gras-style beads, but Tristan had filled him with cotton candy and popcorn.
When one particularly noisy float passed, Mackenzie was spooked, but Brynn held her and soon she’d returned to her usual wide-eyed staring.
“Having fun?” Tristan asked her when a troop of baton twirlers sashayed by.
She nodded. And when Tristan held out his hand, she eased her fingers between his. The happiness in her stomach was akin to lightning in a bottle. After months of darkness, she’d finally stepped into dawn and the sensation was unlike anything she’d experienced before.
Tristan lowered Cayden to his feet. “Hey, while I’m thinking of it, I want a picture of the three of you.”
“Yay!” Cayden was all too happy to ham it up.
Brynn took Mackenzie from her stroller, holding up her little hand in a goofy wave.
Tristan had his phone ready. “Smile and say ‘cheese...’”
“Cheese!” Brynn’s son gave new meaning to smiling for the camera.
From the parade, they went to a town-wide barbecue, feasting on pulled pork, roasted corn and watermelon. More tables were laden with a myriad of potluck salads and desserts.
Before the fireworks, Tristan called his mom, who was home with Georgia in the air-conditioning. Upon confirming she was doing fine, they moved on to watch hilarious homemade raft races on Turtle Lake.
By the time the ice cream-eating contest ended with free all-you-can-eat sundaes for all, Brynn was not only stuffed, but exhausted.
“I don’t know about you,” she said to Tristan, “but Mackenzie and I are ready to claim our spot for the fireworks and just chill.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“No!” Cayden hopped side to side. “I wanna play with my friends.”
Since most of the baseball team was horsing around on the park’s playground, Brynn said, “All right, but don’t go anywhere else.”
“Thanks, Mom!” He ran off.
“This look okay?” Tristan asked Brynn when he found a grassy mound in the shade.
“Perfect.”
While she took Mackenzie from her stroller and made a quick diaper change, Tristan spread the blanket they’d stashed in the lower basket of the baby’s ride. By the time she finished, he’d already stretched out, lying on his side.
Brynn followed suit, resting Mackenzie between them. “I didn’t know how tired I was until now.”
“No kidding. But it’s been a good day, huh?”
“It really has. Thank you.” Their gazes met over Mackenzie. There was a heat behind his stare she hadn’t seen before. A contagious energy that had nothing to do with physical strength. More like an emotional high. “I know Cayden’s had a ball.”
“I’m glad.” He stretched his arm toward her with his fingers tracing her cheek. “But he’s easy. You’re the one I’ve been trying to impress.”
“You’ve been trying, huh? Like you orchestrated the whole town to make sure I had the best time?”
“Exactly.” He toyed with her hair. “It cost my entire fortune to pay everyone to host a quintessential, small-town holiday celebration.”
“Your plan worked.” The only way the day could’ve been better was if he’d finally given her a kiss.
“I’m glad...” As if reading her mind, he leaned closer, only Mackenzie blocked his way. “And right about now, I’m really wishing my mom felt good enough for us to use her as a sitter.”
* * *
BY THE TIME THE FIREWORKS started, Tristan felt a little guilty that he was happy Mackenzie had finally been fed and fallen asleep in her carrier. But just a little.
Brynn rested her head on his shoulders as they stared up at the show. “The perfect end to the perfect day.”
“Not quite.” Rolling over, partially blocking her view, he said, “Pretty sure I’ve wanted to do this from the first day I saw you.” He hovered over her for what felt like forever, drinking her in. Kaleidoscopic light from the fireworks transformed Brynn into an exotic creature from a lovely dream. He’d waited so long to kiss her, instinctively knowing she’d taste so good, that he took his time completing that last inch. When finally his lips touched hers, the sensation was so intense, he wasn’t sure he could handle keeping things G-rated.
Her soft groan only encouraged him into deepening his exploration with a sweep of his tongue.
The fireworks exploding over their heads had nothing on the beautiful release of having wondered so long what this moment might be like only to finally, happily know.
“Now we have perfection,” he finally said, framing her face with his hands.
Fingers in his hair, she nodded before drawing him in for more.
* * *
IT TOOK THIRTY MINUTES TO WIND their way through the traffic leaving the lake, but Brynn hadn’t minded. Both kids were asleep in the back of her SUV and Tristan was at the wheel. In the dash light’s glow, he looked so impossibly handsome she had to pinch herself to believe he was even temporarily hers. Being with him was not only a dangerous game for her heart, but Cayden’s. Though she wasn’t yet convinced she and Tristan were in this
for the long haul, she feared her son already was.
“What’re you thinking about?” Tristan asked.
Taking her time formulating just the right answer, she said, “Pretty much the same issues we’ve already been over a hundred times.”
He eased his fingers between hers. “My leaving?”
She nodded.
“Would it help if I told you I’m worried, too?”
“You mean like you’re considering asking for a discharge?”
“I wouldn’t go that far. The navy’s my life. But I’m worried about Mom and leaving Cayden. Hell, maybe I should ask my CO for more time?”
His speech touched his life’s every concern but her. Oh, she didn’t doubt for a moment he was attracted to her, but obviously he didn’t share the deep affection for her he did for her son. She would never expect him to care for her like he did his mother, but still, it might be nice to occupy some small space in his heart.
“When are you and Cayden headed to St. Louis for Mack’s game?”
“Last weekend of this month. The team’s making our flight arrangements and pretty much handling everything else.”
“That’s exciting.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
More like terrifying. At the lowest point she’d ever been in her life, her so-called friends and thousands more she’d never even personally met had shown her the proverbial door. They’d transferred their hatred for Mack and what they’d believed he’d done to the game onto her and her innocent son. Via internet, she’d kept up with St. Louis current events and learned since the Cardinals punished the players and members of team management who’d really been involved with the cheating scandal that the public knew Mack’s name to be cleared.
“Not really.”
“Why?”
“Can you believe the team has forwarded letters to me from fans? Apologizing for believing Mack had done anything wrong? I’ve read a few, but put the rest in the attic in case Cayden one day wants to see.” As long as she lived, she’d never forget the pain and shame that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her heart. “I’m glad everyone’s back to their hero worship of Mack, but is it wrong for me to want my own apologies?” Especially from the husband she’d implicitly trusted? Checking to make sure Cayden was still soundly asleep, she said, “Sometimes late at night, I find myself hating Mack for what he did to our lives. I get that his intentions were noble, but it went so wrong. Didn’t I deserve to at the very least be involved in his decision to go forward with such an asinine plan?”
Still holding her hand, Tristan lifted it to his mouth, kissing her palm. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’d give anything to be able to erase your pain.”
“Thanks.” Staring out the window at the darkness beyond, she asked, “Want to tag along?”
“To Mack’s big game?”
Throat aching with tears she refused to spill, she nodded. “I’m not sure I can do it alone.”
Pulling into her drive, he said, “I’d be honored. Who knows? It might even turn out to be fun.”
* * *
“THIS IS A NICE SURPRISE.” Back to work after the long weekend, Brynn turned off the hose she’d been using to water the nursery’s annuals to give Donna and Georgia hugs. “I take it you’re feeling much better?”
“Still moving slower than I’d like,” Donna said, “but the doc says I need exercise, and since Georgia was already headed this way, I figured what would it hurt to tag along?”
“Plus,” Georgia interjected, “we’d both like the details of your Independence Day date.”
Recalling Tristan’s kiss raised heat in Brynn’s cheeks.
“That good, huh?” Georgia winked before fanning herself.
“You’re awful,” Brynn said of her friend. “We had a great time. End of story.”
“Uh-huh...” Donna pretended to study yellow marigolds. “Which is why Tristan’s going with you to St. Louis at the end of the month?”
“Strictly for moral support—and of course, to heft luggage.”
Georgia laughed. “That’s my girl.”
“Seriously, though,” Donna said, “you do like him, right?”
On that note, Brynn resumed watering. “It’s not as if Tristan and I are in junior high. Of course, I like him, but our lives are more complicated.”
“Well, sure, but—”
“Where’s that baby?” Was that Georgia’s thinly veiled attempt to change the subject?
“She’s inside, napping. I have her monitor.” Brynn tapped the plastic receiver affixed to the waistband of her jeans.
“Such a wonderful invention,” Georgia mused.
“Don’t think I can’t see what you two are doing.” Donna deadheaded a flower with enough vehemence to give Brynn cause for concern. “My whole heart episode has me realizing I’m not getting younger. I need to know Tristan’s in good hands, and Brynn, I like you.”
Brynn set down her spray nozzle to take Donna’s hands. “Thank you, but by your own admission, you’re doing better and Tristan’s not exactly proposing to me. Even if he were, I wouldn’t accept. We hardly know each other.”
“But you’re getting there, right?”
Brynn shook her head...
When her children were grown, would she have Donna’s clarity? The certainty that her child was on the right path? From reading Donna’s postsurgical material, Brynn knew oftentimes patients grew depressed, but Brynn couldn’t be held responsible for Tristan’s mother’s happiness. She was having a tough enough time finding her own.
Chapter Fourteen
A sold-out crowd had shown up to Mack’s game at Busch Stadium. Or maybe just to see the spectacle of his children and widow paraded onto the pitcher’s mound. Forty-six thousand people.
“Mom,” Cayden said moments before the ceremony began, reaching for her hand, “I’m scared.”
“It’s okay,” she assured, holding Mackenzie a little closer. “This’ll all be over soon.”
“Welcome,” the commissioner said into his microphone, “thank you all for joining us on this special afternoon.” He paused a moment while fans cheered. “Today, we celebrate the life of our fallen hero, second baseman, Mack Langtoine.”
As the standing crowd roared, Brynn began to tremble. It started from deep inside and threatened to manifest in tears. Struggling to maintain her dignity, she tuned out the rest of the commissioner’s speech, focusing instead on Tristan. Located far above her in the owner’s suite, though she couldn’t see him, she felt him, imagined him on the field with her, his arms securely around not only her, but Cayden and Mackenzie.
The commissioner continued, “In the past year, this organization has suffered. As have you—our valued fans. I want to assure you all matters of impropriety have been addressed and as this team draws nearer to play-offs, it’s time for healing. For a rebirth of the spirit of goodwill and sportsmanship that help make this game the greatest in the world!”
The crowd exploded with cheers and applaud.
The sun’s heat—the deafening sound—was too much. Still, Brynn stood her ground. These people who threw eggs at her family’s home were now welcoming her back with open arms.
After the mayor gave Cayden the key to the city in his father’s honor, the team owner announced the retirement of Mack’s jersey. The minister of the church she and Mack had attended led the stadium in prayer.
Cayden tossed the ceremonial first pitch, then they were whisked from the field and up into the owner’s suite. The whole thing had taken maybe fifteen minutes, but it felt as though they were reliving the past year all over again. She knew everyone meant well, and many of Mack’s closest friends on the team—including the team manager—told her from the start they’d never believed Mack had done wrong.
Cayden had again take
n hold of her hand, at least until spotting Tristan. He then ran to him for a hug.
“Hey,” Tristan said, shielding them from the suite’s other guests, “how are you? Was it as hard as you thought?”
She nodded, fearing if she spoke, she wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears. “C-can you please get us out of here?”
As if computing the most efficient escape route, he looked around, then, hand on the small of her back, propelled her and her children from the stadium.
* * *
LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER, Tristan had transported Brynn a world away to the museum at the foot of the St. Louis Arch. While Cayden played with interactive history displays, Tristan pushed Mackenzie’s stroller with one hand and with his other, held Brynn loosely around her waist. “Better?”
She nodded, resting her head against his strong shoulder. Exhaustion clung to her as if she’d just emerged from battle. “I’m bone-deep tired. This how you feel after finishing one of your missions?”
“Used to.” He steered them around a covered wagon display. “I’ve done so many, they’ve become routine.”
“I wouldn’t want to ever go through something like this enough times for it to feel normal.”
“Don’t blame you.” He kissed the top of her head. “But know what?”
“What?”
“You looked sexy out there, with that cute sundress swaying around your legs.”
“Tristan!” She landed a playful swat to his chest. “I’m being serious.”
“Me, too.” He winked, snagging her by her waist again to draw her in for the sweetest of kisses. It was the kind of kiss that weakened her knees and coaxed butterflies to flight in her belly. The kind of kiss that restored not only her faith in humanity, but her own future.
* * *
ON THE FLIGHT FROM ST. LOUIS to Dallas, Tristan envied Brynn’s, Cayden’s and even Mackenzie’s ability to sleep.
Typically, he could drift off anywhere, be it in the belly of a C-130 or submarine. Though his body felt plenty tired, his brain refused to shut down.
The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family) Page 14