I melted into him, soaking up his strength and heat even though he was the cause of my emotional tornado. I needed to hold him now more than ever, and I needed to be held.
“Everything all right?”
I was a mess, but I also had a deep sense that everything was all right. “Yes. I had a good talk with Mom. Hopefully no more speed-of-light trips from Fargo thinking the worst has happened to me.”
He nibbled at my ear, and his warm lips brushed down my neck. “Good. I knew fireworks and grilling would bring her around.”
“I almost told her. About us.”
He paused with his lips against my skin. “Why didn’t you?”
“It seemed like I was already pushing it.” He didn’t nod, didn’t continue kissing me, but he also didn’t pull away. Was he disappointed? Was he impatient? “Is that all right?”
“I’m ready when you’re ready.” He pressed a soft kiss against my skin, then another. My eyes drifted closed.
I enjoyed what he was doing too much. A full day that included an afternoon of him with no shirt was hell on my hormones. “We should get back out there.”
“Yeah. We should.” He didn’t let me go. “Seeing you in that swimsuit drove me crazy.”
He traced a finger over my breasts, his touch branding me through my shirt.
“It was just a plain swimsuit.” I was breathless. I arched into him, my tight nipples grazing his chest through my top.
He groaned. “And I know exactly what you look like under it.” His teeth grazed my neck.
I dipped to catch his mouth in a kiss that he instantly deepened. His tongue probed inside, and I sucked on him. He tasted like lemonade and sunshine.
The kiss was way too short before he yanked his head away. “Damn, Kenny. You need to go out there first. I’m gonna need a minute.”
I palmed the front of his shorts. “I’ll call you tonight, when they go to the motel.”
His breathing was ragged, but he gave me a sweet kiss on the forehead. “Can’t wait.”
The words I love you crowded on my tongue. I used to say it with such ease. I’d get there again. If Liam felt the same way, we’d get there. But this wasn’t the time.
Chapter 18
Kennedy
* * *
My classroom was quiet. All the kids had gone home and I would too, after I finished entering scores from their tests. With the Fourth of July holiday past, I had one more week of summer school.
Then what?
I had several projects I could do to the house, but limited funds to purchase supplies. School didn’t start again until the end of August, and it was looking like there was a full crew of teachers. No full-time openings.
I guessed I’d be job hunting along with Liam. I didn’t want to leave this school. Aspen was here. Kelsey and Marion. And I was looking forward to chatting with the other teachers and paras that I’d gotten to know on recess and lunchroom duty. Would I still be invited to their girls’ nights out, or would I have to start over at another school?
I’d tapped in the last score when Mr. Gilding called over the intercom. “Kennedy, can you come down to my office?”
The principal hadn’t said much to me since I’d lost my temper. If anything, he’d steered clear. Same with Mrs. Z. No more impromptu drop-ins while I was still in her classroom. Did she cruise by the school to make sure my car wasn’t there before she came inside? Didn’t matter. It had been nice to have a break from her negativity.
I packed up my schoolbag full of papers and my teaching laptop. Mr. Gilding was sitting behind his desk.
“Ah, Kennedy. Have a seat. Shut the door too, please.”
Being called to the principal’s office had lost its fear factor as an adult, but the ominous “shut the door, please” made it come crashing back. The last time he’d told me to shut the door was when he’d asked whether I could keep teaching in the same capacity I had been before Derek died. The day I had quit.
“Liam Barron called me today.” Mr. Gilding tapped the tip of his pen against his desktop. “He wants to switch his kids to Miss Perez.”
“Good.” I wasn’t backtracking on what I had said to Mr. Gilding the day Mrs. Z had pissed me off, yet my heart rate accelerated and my palms grew clammy. His expression didn’t make me think he wholeheartedly agreed. “I think that’s a reasonable request.”
“After the way you spoke to Mrs. Zachmeier, I can’t help but wonder where Liam got the idea she wouldn’t be a good teacher for his kids.”
After the way I spoke to Mrs. Z? Calling her on her bullshit without yelling or throwing a fit was now a bad thing? “Uh, maybe it’s from the way she spoke about his kids?”
Mr. Gilding straightened. Okay, my tone might’ve been too flippant, but come on. He needed to support the kids as much as his staff.
His stern expression solidified, and he tapped the pen to his desk again. “And how exactly did she speak about them?”
“She said it’d be a tough year and she’d have to separate them.” Yeah, when I said it like that it sounded harmless enough. Mr. Gilding knew her tone and her attitude. He had to understand.
“That’s it?”
“She insinuated it’d be a tough year because of them and because of what Liam had been like—twenty-two years ago.”
Mr. Gilding tipped his chin down while keeping his gaze on me, as if I needed to elaborate. Did he not see the problem? “Kennedy, I realize you’ve been through a lot, but Mrs. Z confided in you as a colleague.”
I scoffed and caught myself too late. His gaze sharpened, and I smoothed over my expression. Professional as hell. I still wanted a job here. As a full-fledged teacher with a flawless record, I would’ve had more footing in this disagreement. “She was complaining. About children. Those boys are important to me, and I want them to have the best start to their school year as possible.”
“Right.” Tap, tap, tap. “I realize that you’re more qualified than many of our paras, and that’s why I’m concerned about what you’re telling other parents about the teachers here.”
“It wasn’t other parents. It was a friend, and I gave him a recommendation that would benefit his children.”
Mr. Gilding laid the pen down like it was a fuse ready to detonate. “Mrs. Zachmeier has been a teacher here for thirty-five years. Eli and Owen Barron are in good hands, and I’ve reassured Liam of that.”
I recoiled. How could he pretend this wasn’t an issue? The set of his shoulders and the hard lines around his eyes told me he wasn’t going to change his mind. I could still hold him accountable. “Then I can be assured that should there be problems, you’ll use your best judgment to rectify them in a way that helps them, regardless of how Mrs. Z feels or how defensive she gets?”
Mr. Gilding blinked. “Of-of course.”
My anger continued coalescing until it oozed out of every pore in my body. It was as if my silence in other areas of my life spurred my vocal cords to flap away. “Good, good. And the other parents were understanding when you refused their requests for a preferred teacher?”
He cocked his head. “Excuse me?”
“You rejected Liam’s request, but all the teachers here are good, right?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “So, I’m assuming that you’ve turned down all other requests and will continue to do so even after school starts. You’ll just assure them their children are in good hands.”
“We have very few requests—”
I looked at him like I just couldn’t possibly understand. “You don’t reject them all?”
He paused and stared at his pen, like he wanted to tap-tap away but didn’t want to show me that I’d unbalanced him. “There are outstanding cases, and you understand that I can’t discuss them with you.” He straightened as if a steel rod traveled up his spine. “As I’m sure you understand that I won’t be discussing Eli and Owen with you any further. I believe it’s only Liam and his grandma, Ginny Pewter, on their records.”
If we’d been having a face-of
f, he’d be considered a winner. To him, and to the rest of the town, I wasn’t anything more to Liam and his kids than a family friend. I wasn’t their teacher or a teacher at all in the school. Another reminder I wasn’t full-time staff.
The most I could do was watch and listen. And if I had to get a job outside the Coal Haven district—after this meeting it looked like I’d have to—I’d let Liam know everything he could do to check on his kids. It was all I could do. As just a friend.
I was keeping our relationship quiet to protect us, but for the first time, it felt like it might be hurting us.
Liam
* * *
The sound of a vehicle pulling up tore the boys’ attention away from the task of painting a spare piece of plywood. They’d wanted to help, but there wasn’t much they could do while I was welding. I had no use for the plywood other than to keep them occupied.
Was Kenny coming over early? I had to leave in a few days, and we’d decided to work in an overnight before I left. Her idea. One I gladly went along with after missing our planned sleepover on the Fourth.
I put my torch down and took my gloves off. The apron was next. I only had a couple of new singe holes in my shirt. The sweat-soaked garment stuck to my torso. I needed a shower but would have to greet the new arrival how I was.
I slapped my ball cap on. At the overhead doors of the shed, I noticed the boys standing on the edge of the driveway. They were eyeing a large pickup.
“Who’s that, Daddy?” Owen asked.
The pickup was as big as mine, but several years newer. Fully loaded luxury edition. There were people that drove nice pickups like this through town. They all had the last name Barron.
Cameron slid out. His mirrored sunglasses reflected my property; the finish of the lenses didn’t help it look better. Decent shop. Beat-up house. Lawn that needed mowing. I’d get to that tomorrow. The house was waiting until I was home for good. I had to deal with Cameron now.
“William.”
Eli scrunched his face up. “Who’s William?”
Cameron’s brow scrunched. “Excuse me?”
I put myself between Cameron and Eli. I wouldn’t let this man’s bullshit affect more than one generation. “It’s me, kiddo. My full name.”
“What’s mine?” Eli asked.
“You don’t have a nickname.”
“Can mine be Tony Stark?” Owen asked.
I kept my tone neutral. “Why don’t you two go inside and watch a show?”
“Yeah!” Owen raced ahead of Eli.
Cameron watched them pass, his gaze less stern than when he looked at me.
“What do you want?” I held back my hostility, but my father wasn’t here for a congenial visit. He wasn’t going to say he was sorry for ignoring me my entire life. He wasn’t going to apologize for driving my mom away until she was gone for good. He wasn’t going to embrace my kids as his grandkids.
He took his shades off and held them loosely in his hands like he was pondering what to say. He knew what he was going to tell me. A guy like Cameron was always prepared—especially when it came to me. “Bruce is worried about Kennedy.”
I didn’t say anything, just folded my arms and waited for the inevitable stay away from someone you really care about lecture. Bruce had sicced Cameron on me after Derek and I had gotten the four-wheelers stuck in the watering holes the spring we were in seventh grade.
“Bruce told me that he appreciated how you were there for Kennedy. He said that she really needed the extra support.” The bands of the sunglasses flipped up, then folded. “The thing is, she’s doing fine now.”
“Then why is he worried? And why are you here speaking for him?”
“She’s still hurting.”
“Of course she is. Her fucking husband died, Cameron.”
The permafrown he wore around me deepened. “Don’t cuss at me, William.”
“And don’t talk to me like you’re my dad.”
His cheeks pinched. Not quite a wince, but more reaction than I expected from a guy who’d spent his life denying my existence. “You should give her some room.” I stared him down. He gave a disgusted grunt. “What are you doing, William? You’re almost twenty-eight. Single. Kids. Look what happened with their mom.”
“You know nothing about that. Or are you afraid what went on between me and their mom resembles what you did? Like father, like son?”
His eyes filled with warning. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t talk to you about shit I know nothing about like you’re doing? Don’t spend time with Kenny, who can make her own damn decisions without consulting you or Bruce? It’s a tired argument. Kenny’s an adult, and instead of questioning her, maybe you and Bruce should ask yourselves something. Why do you think Derek and Kenny would both equally conclude that I’m a decent guy and that they want to be around me?”
“Derek was—” Cameron’s voice hitched. “He was a good kid, but Bruce spoiled him. He didn’t think through his actions.”
That part had been true—when he’d been a teenager and we’d done stupid shit like with the four-wheelers. As an adult, Derek had been the best there was. “Bullshit. No one was as balanced as him. Same with Kennedy.”
“And what do you think he would say about you spending so much time with his wife?”
I sucked in a breath. Cameron was aiming low today, but he wasn’t the only one prepared for conversations like this. “I don’t know. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? He can’t tell us, and it gives you and Bruce free rein to write the script about what you would want him to say. You’re going to have fun telling everyone what an awful friend I am now?”
Cameron shook his head. “You always were hardheaded. What’s with you and Hattie Garcia?”
“Gonna tell me to stay away from her too? Want me to get so upset that I drive off, hysterical, and poof—you don’t have to deal with me anymore?”
Cameron charged forward, shoving a finger into my shoulder. “You have no idea, William.” He backed up and glanced at the house. His gaze swept the rest of the yard like he was worried someone had witnessed a rare loss of temper. “You have no idea what your mother put my family through. I made a mistake, and she wouldn’t let it go and…” He waited until his breathing slowed. “I was young and stupid. You might think I expect the worst out of you, but I don’t want you to make the same mistakes as me. It’s obvious you care about Kennedy. You want what’s best for her. The thing you don’t seem to get is that you’re not always what’s best.”
I reared back. “Get out of here.”
“Think about Kennedy.”
“Fuck you, Cameron.”
He shook his head, his lips smacking against his teeth. His boots ground into the gravel as he sauntered to his pickup, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he hadn’t suggested that I was no good for anyone. Like the insinuation wasn’t there that my mother hadn’t been good for anyone either.
Before he climbed behind the wheel, he turned to face me, his calm, frowning mask in place. “Good luck trying to get a job around here, Liam.”
The issue of seeing Derek’s widow hadn’t been the only subject I was prepared for. I’d had time to think about this move. I wasn’t an impulsive teen anymore. “Good luck trying to convince your golf buddies that I’m not good at what I do. In case you forgot, I work for King Oil, and my manager promised a glowing recommendation. Should look good, considering you just lost your vice president to King Oil.”
Cameron’s nostrils flared, and I smirked. For the first time I wasn’t drowning in rage or helplessness around my father. Relief that I hadn’t been raised by this man seeped through my anger.
He got in his ride and slammed the door. I didn’t move from the middle of the driveway. He had to pull around me, leaving tire tracks in the overgrown lawn.
Think about Kennedy.
I thought about her every waking moment. No one knew how important she was to me. But someday soon, I hoped they would.
&
nbsp; Kennedy
* * *
The boys had asked for me to tuck them in tonight. They’d given Liam hugs and run upstairs to pick a book for me to read. While I read what ended up to be ten stories, Liam went out to the shed to finish some work for Hattie.
I finished the last story, and Owen asked, “What’s your real name, Kenny?”
“Kennedy, but only you two and your daddy call me Kenny.” I leaned down to his little face sticking out of the blankets. “I think it’s really special.”
Eli’s nose scrunched. “So, is that guy that calls Daddy ‘William’ special too?”
A chill swept down my back. Only one guy called Liam by his full name. “No, he’s… When did you hear him say William?”
“Earlier. Daddy talked to him outside.”
Liam hadn’t mentioned a thing since I’d arrived. Had it gone that bad?
“William is your daddy’s full name, but we all like to call him Liam. That guy doesn’t know Liam well enough to call him that.”
I stayed until they fell asleep. I wanted to talk to Liam, and I wanted to do it without worrying about being overheard. But by the time I got downstairs, he still wasn’t inside.
I found him in the shop, on a stool, painting one of the end tables we’d picked up when we’d last been in Bismarck for Eli’s speech therapy.
He didn’t look at me, but my steps echoed through the shop. He was toward the back, on the opposite side of where he welded. Farthest away from the dust. The main color was slate gray, but he was painting the handles and trim a sky blue.
“I told Hattie about these, and she said I should give them a try. People love colorful furniture for kids’ rooms.”
I stopped next to him. “What happened with Cameron?”
The brush stopped. “History repeated itself.”
There was so much history between him and Cameron, yet so little variation. “Meaning?”
“Instead of telling me to stay away from Derek, it was you he warned me away from.”
Make Me Whole: Oil Barrons, Book 1 Page 21