Page 57 of The Sweet Spot

Once she steps back, Shaun hands Deacon a case of beer and pats him on the back. “Congratulations, man. We’re happy for you.”

They both seem fine with our announcement. Kennedy, however, isn’t saying a word. She blinks rapidly, looking between Deacon and me as the blood drains from her face.

Deacon reaches out, but she shrugs him away, careful not to let him touch her. She looks around the kitchen with tears rapidly filling her eyes and makes a beeline for the first exit she sees, letting the French doors slam shut with a deafening thud as she escapes into the backyard.

“Shit,” Deacon murmurs as Winnie trots over to the glass door and watches Kennedy walk through the yard.

“Don’t worry. It’s just a lot for her right now,” Isla reassures him without any weight behind her words. “Us moving, her moving... she was going to struggle with Brynlee no matter what you did. I just don’t think any of us were expecting you two to get married quite so... quickly.”

“It made sense,” Deacon argues, and Isla takes a step back as if she’s been slapped.

Then she wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Hope you weren’t expecting romantic gestures and flowery words. That’s not Deacon’s way.”

I know this is his ex-wife.

I know they’re friends, and she’s the mother of his child.

Obviously, I expected her to have a level of intimacy with this man.

My man . . .

But something about that statement just... I’m not sure I can pinpoint exactly what about it sets my hair on end, but it does. I’ve had enough people try to tell me what to expect today, and I’ve had my fill.

So I do what I do best.

I smile sweetly and remove myself from the situation but not before getting the last word. “I don’t need romantic words and flowers. There are plenty of other ways to express yourself, which Deacon happens to be very good at.”

I slip out of her hold and scoop Winnie up in my arms, then move in front of my husband, who’s cracked a small smile, thanks to my very loaded comment. “Would it be okay if I tried talking to her?”

“I’m not sure if that’s the best move, Brynn.” His smile vanishes, and tight lines take its place. “She usually needs time and space when she shuts down.”

“Could I try?” I ask gently, not wanting this to be what sets the tone of my relationship with his daughter. “I won’t push her. I promise.”

“I think that would be nice, Brynlee.” I turn to Isla, who surprises me with her answer. “Kennedy doesn’t do well with new people, but maybe if she realizes that yes, you’re new, but you’re also permanent, it will help her begin to adjust.”

Hesitantly, I lace my fingers through Deacon’s and squeeze his hand in time with my heavy heartbeat. “Are you okay with this?”

“Give it a shot, fearless girl.” He presses his lips to my forehead and runs his hand over Winnie’s head. The trust he’s showing warms me from the inside out. Even if he may never know just how full of fear I truly am.

The sun is shining, and the clouds have cleared when I make my way outside. A vast difference from this morning’s summer storm. Humidity clings to the damp air, and I set Winnie down by the edge of the lake and snicker when she runs away from the water and glues herself to my leg.

Kennedy sits on the edge of the still-drying dock, her long legs dangle above the lake as the sun reflects off her shiny, nearly black hair. She’s every bit her father’s mini-me, but with her mother’s striking golden-brown eyes, utterly beautiful, and in this moment, she looks painfully young and not at all prepared for the changes she’s expected to navigate.

Without looking up, sadness and anxiety radiate off her in waves as I approach. My sandals creak with each step on the worn wooden planks, followed by quick clicking of Winnie’s paws.

“Is this seat taken?” I ask as I carefully fold my sundress around my legs and sit down next to her. Close but careful not to get too close. Winnie plops between us, sandwiching herself halfway between each of our bodies, and I watch, somewhat in awe, as Kennedy digs her fingers into Winnie’s soft fur and relaxes a tiny bit.

It’s a tiny step, but I’ll take anything.

Sad eyes appraise me silently before looking back out over the lake. Her hand stays on Winnie as we settle into a heavy silence for a long while.

A million memories of this lake run through my mind like an old home video.

Summer. BBQs. Nights spent telling ghost stories in front of a bonfire at Lindy’s old house, and days spent at Uncle Jace’s house, trying to get the cool uncle to sneak us a beer. Not that he ever did, but we always tried. At least until I tried my first beer and realized how disgusting they are. Pretty sure that was my first and last beer.

I turn my head away from her and look at the homes I can just barely make out through the tall trees that line the property between Deacon’s and Jace’s. So many amazing moments I’ve gotten to experience. But even still, there isn’t enough money in the world to get me to go back and relive my tweens and teens.

All the self-doubt.

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