Chapter 7
Bryson
“A man has to do his own growing, no matter how tall, or short, his father is.”
~ Rowan O’Sullivan
“What’s goin’ on in that noodle of yours?” My dad clapped his hand on my shoulder as we stood on the back deck that I’d finished last week. “You’re miles away.”
“What?” I tried to recall what we’d been talking about but for the life of me, I couldn’t.
“Did you fall asleep standing up? You look shattered.”
“I didn’t get much sleep last night.” I was tired, but that wasn’t why I’d zoned out.
Since Kelsi drove away this morning, I’d been having a hell of a time concentrating. All my mind kept doing was replaying the morning, over and over. I still felt bad that I’d scared her just because I’d been too impatient to wait for her to get out of the car, but I was only human. Unlike her. She’d looked like a goddess in blue jeans. I’d always been a sucker for a girl in denim, cut off or otherwise. Form fitting denim was sexier to me than lingerie and bikinis ever had been. Especially the kind that was distressed in all the right places, like Kelsi’s.
She’d stolen my breath last night, and this morning she’d stolen my brain. It wasn’t even noon, and I’d drilled the wrong size holes in several pieces of sheetrock. I’d had to recut a half dozen two by fours thanks to my faulty measuring, and I’d had to cancel an order I’d placed for tile because I realized that I’d already ordered it a week ago.
Maybe Hud had been on to something by asking Sawyer to keep an eye on Milo.
“You haven’t heard a word I’ve been sayin’, have you, bud?”
My dad was a talker. All my life he’d been able to talk for hours and hours about anything and everything. Owning the bar had been a great outlet for his gift of gab. Unlike home where it wasn’t appreciated quite as much. When Jade was three she told my mom that “daddy made her ears tired.” At the Cow, he was a crowd pleaser. The patrons loved hearing all of his stories, even if they’d heard them multiple times before. Even now, not a day goes by without several customers asking after my dad. They all say they miss the same thing, his stories. They claimed they could listen to him talk for hours because they loved his accent.
I smoothed out the blueprints and redirected my attention to them hoping that my dad would follow my lead. “You said you wanted to make a change in the master bedroom plans.”
He ignored me. “I want to talk about the break-in.”
I pulled up the hem of my shirt and wiped the sweat that was beginning to drip down my forehead. My schedule had gotten so thrown off that I’d forgotten the handkerchief I usually kept in my back pocket and I was missing it something fierce. It had to be pushing ninety. “It was fine. I took care of it.”
A wrinkle appeared in my dad’s forehead as his bushy brows rose. “Getting some free labor? Is that your way of taking care of it.”
“He’s working off the damages.” I looked over to where Milo was working beside Sawyer. The difference in their sizes was comical. They looked like the real-life David and Goliath.
“Just like you did, eh boyo.”
My eyes shot to his. “What?”
His lips pulled up in a knowing smirk. “You remember? When Bud caught you hurling beer bottles at the side of his building.”
My palms got a little sweaty, and a sick feeling settled in my stomach. I had to remind myself that I was a grown man, it didn’t matter if my dad knew what I’d done almost twenty years ago. “You knew about that?”
“Come on, of course, I did. Bud came into the Cow the same night he caught you and told me about the whole thing.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything? Why didn’t you ground me?”
“You got yourself into it, I wanted to give you the chance to make it right on your own.”
I stared at my dad and wondered if he knew how much that summer had affected me. That summer changed my life. Moving to America had been my parents’ dream. My sister had been so young it hadn’t really affected her, but I was terrified and sad about leaving my home. I was eight, and I had to say goodbye to everything I’d ever known. When I started school in Wishing Well, the kids thought I had a funny accent, and I felt the same about them. We might’ve all been speaking English, but there was definitely a language barrier. I developed a chip on my shoulder because I felt like an outsider. That was why I’d been hanging out with those older kids, to try and fit in. And it worked, just not in the way I’d thought it would.
From the first day that I started working at the Spoon, I felt like I belonged. I felt a sense of community. I felt that Wishing Well was my home and that the people that lived there were my family.
Gratitude overwhelmed me, and I pulled my dad into a hug. “Thanks, Dad.”
My dad loved to talk, but he didn’t like things getting emotional unless it was over football. Or what Americans called soccer. He patted my back several times and then pulled back, sniffing away the feelings that my embrace and thanks had engendered. “Now about the break-in. I know it was just the boy this time, but I’ve been thinking, what if it wasn’t? You shouldn’t have gone down there blind with no backup.”
“I had backup.” Leaning down, I rubbed Goliath’s head. He was sound asleep beneath the table in the shade.
“I’m going to put in those security cameras you’ve been harping about.”
I straightened. “Good.”
For years I’d been pushing for him to put up cameras and for years he’d been blowing me off. I’d also tried to get him to update the inventory system and change several vendors with the same result. My dad was old school, stubborn, and convinced that he was always right. I loved the man, but he could drive me crazy. Especially when it came to bar issues.
“That way, if God forbid, there’s another incident, you’ll know what you’re walking into.” My dad cast a glance downward as he whispered, “And you can get some backup that isn’t afraid of a tiny cat.”
“He’s asleep.” My parents treated Goliath much more like a person than a canine. They were always concerned that they were going to hurt his feelings or make him feel left out. “And even if he was awake, he wouldn’t understand.”
“Yes, he would. He understands everything,” Dad maintained.
I turned my attention back to the blueprints and tried to wrap my head around the revisions my dad wanted to make. I wanted to get started on the drywall in the new master bath. “Okay, so you want the master to have French doors instead of windows.”
“No.”
Damn, I really was distracted. I would’ve sworn that was why he’d called me over in the first place.
“Your mother wants to have French doors,” he emphasized the distinction. “I think that windows are just fine, but what do I know?”
I nodded as I grabbed the pencil that I’d stuck behind my ear. If I didn’t write these changes down right now, I didn’t trust myself to remember them. My brain was Swiss cheese today. A yawn claimed me; I was happy that I had tonight off from the Cow. I planned on going home, ordering pizza, having a cold one and calling it a night. It dawned on me that my impaired mental capacity might have more to do with the fact that I hadn’t slept and less to do with the distraction that was my blue jean goddess.
“Well, look at what’s comin’ our way. She’s a fine one there.”
I raised my head and saw Kelsi walking straight towards us as if my thoughts had made her materialize.
“She is.” I agreed with my dad. “She’s gorgeous.”
The midday sunlight shimmered off of Kelsi’s long, chestnut hair. Her full, pink lips were highlighted with a gloss that made me want to do a hell of a lot more than kiss her mouth. I wanted to lick, bite, and suck on her supple lips.
“Hi.” Kelsi waved with her free hand and held a brown bag with her other. As she approached us, placing her sunglasses on top of her head, a mile-wide smile spread across her face. In the sun I could see gold specks sparkling in her light brown eyes.
Being this close to her, hearing her sweet voice, and seeing her smile caused my heart to race. Desire flooded my system washing away any trace of exhaustion. I’d had four cups of coffee this morning, and it’d helped, but caffeine had nothing on Kelsi Robbins.
“Hello there, young lady.” My dad stepped forward and cupped her hand between his hands. “You must be the Kelsi I keep hearing so much about.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened, and a pink hue crept up her cheeks. “Yes, I am.”
“Well now, son.” He patted her hand, as he looked up at me. “It’s clear to me now where your mind’s been all morning. It’s been on this pretty lass.”
Other people might be embarrassed by my dad’s less than subtle behavior, but I’d grown used to it. When he thought I had a crush on one of the Turner triplets my freshman year, he invited her over for a “family” dinner that turned out to be a private dinner for two set up on our back patio. Too bad he got the wrong triplet. He’d invited Maisy, and I had a crush on Melody. Whoops. We’d still had a nice dinner though.
Ignoring my dad’s comments, I finished the introductions. “Kelsi, this is my dad, Rowan.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. O’Sullivan.”
“Call me Row. That’s what my friends call me,” he explained with a wink as he released her hand. “Now, what have you got there?”
“Oh, it’s lunch. I completely flaked on making something for Milo because everything was so…crazy.” Kelsi’s eyes met mine. “I made enough for you and Sawyer. And there’s plenty for you too, Mr. O’Sulli…er, um, Row.”
My dad’s lips pursed as he shot me the side eye. His expression reflected exactly what I was thinking. Mom’s not going to like this.
My mother prided herself on feeding whomever was at the house, and I knew that she’d take this as a personal offense to her. She’d already informed Sawyer and Milo that they’d be having soup, sandwiches, and fruit for lunch today. She was probably in the kitchen now preparing it.
I assumed she didn’t see Kelsi walk up because if she did, she’d be out here giving her the third degree, or what my mom liked to call “getting to know” her. Ever since she’d been on the grandbaby kick, every time she was within a mile of an eligible bachelorette, her “just getting to know” them was a lot more like an interrogation than a friendly chat. Thankfully, the girls never seemed to mind because my mom was one of the friendliest people that you could ever meet.
As sweet and lovely as my mom was, she could hold a grudge like no one’s business and for the most ridiculous reasons. Just last Sunday dinner she brought up an incident that happened over two decades earlier when she’d been snubbed by the former mayor’s wife, Joanne Carter. Right after my dad opened The Tipsy Cow, my mother invited the couple to dinner. Mrs. Carter agreed to come, but they never showed up. A week later she ran into the mayor’s wife at the grocery store, and when my mother asked her about it, Mrs. Carter said that she didn’t remember accepting the invitation.
That was twenty years ago, and my mother still brought it up.
“And will you be staying for lunch, then?” My dad asked casually, clearly assessing the possibility we’d be able to avoid this lunch crisis altogether.
“Oh, no.” She shook her head emphatically. The wind caught it and her hair fanned out like she was in a shampoo commercial. It even seemed to go in slow motion, I was mesmerized by it. She started to hand me the bag. “I have a ton of things to do today. I was just dropping this off—”
“I’ll take that!” My dad intercepted the contraband. “Why don’t you go show this beauty the ducks on her way back to her car?”
“Would you like to meet Casey and Ben?” I held out my elbow, like the true Southern gentleman I’d been raised to be.
Her gaze shifted between my dad and me. She looked slightly confused at our behavior, and I wondered if we were being as sly as I thought we were.
“Sure…” she agreed hesitantly as she wrapped her slender fingers around my upper arm.
Her fingers weren’t actually touching my skin; there was a thin barrier of cotton between them. But her touch still hit me like a Prairie Fire shot, which was one part whiskey and four drops of the hottest hot sauce you could legally get your hands on. Heat spread through me with lightning speed.
I tried to hide my reaction. As we started walking away, my dad called out. “Lovely to meet ya, darlin’.”
Kelsi glanced over her shoulder at my dad. “Nice meeting you, too.”
I glanced back as well and mouthed, thank you.
“How’s Milo doing?” She sounded uncertain as I guided her down the path that led to the pond on the east side of the property.
“Great. He’s listening and following instructions. He’s even taking some initiative and doing things he hasn’t been asked to do.”
“Really?!”
“Really,” I confirmed as I pushed aside a low-hanging branch so she could step into my parents’ little piece of heaven.
The area was completely surrounded by lush trees, with a pond sitting in the center. There was a small grouping of chairs with a fire pit in the center and two hammocks on each side.
“Wow. This is beautiful.” She took in the hundreds of twinkle lights that were threaded through the branches that surrounded the small body of water. “Are those lights?”
“My dad hung these up so my mom could enjoy this oasis in the evening. But, truthfully, Casey and Ben are actually the ones that enjoy it.” I motioned to the pair of wood ducks swimming in circles.
“Hello, Casey and Ben.” She scrunched her face, looking cuter than should be legally allowed, as she tilted her head up towards me. “Who named them?”
“I did. They’re brothers.”
“Brothers…” She was silent for a moment, and then her head fell back, and she laughed. I’d never heard what angels sound like, but if I had to guess, it would be the sound of Kelsi Robbins laughing. It was melodic, soothing, and happy.
“Affleck…that’s hilarious,” she said through the laughter.
It wasn’t hilarious at all, at best it was corny, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to correct her. I felt like I’d just conquered the world because I’d made this woman laugh. I wanted to do it again. And again. And again. It wasn’t just the sweetness of the sound that I’d instantly become addicted to; it was the way she looked while she laughed. Light. Carefree. Happy.
I’d only known her a day, but I could see that she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. I’d overheard Milo telling Sawyer that his mom was in jail. I didn’t catch what had gotten her locked up, but from the looks of things, Kelsi was left to pick up the pieces.
She dropped her hand from my arm as she composed herself, and I wanted to beg her to put it back. I abstained. Not out of pride, I didn’t give a shit about revealing the desperation that she made me feel. I kept my mouth shut because telling her that I missed her touch would make her uncomfortable, and I wasn’t an asshole.
“Thanks,” she sighed. “I needed that.”
“Anytime you need a laugh, I’m your guy.” I’d be her guy if she needed anything.
“Really?” Her lip pulled up in a smirk. “You can be funny on demand?”
“Yep,” I replied confidently. “I’ve got a solid ten that kills in any room.”
Her eyes rounded. “You’re a comedian?”
I’m whatever you want or need me to be. Another thought I decided not to share with the class.
“Yep. I do stand-up every night behind the bar.”
“Right.” She nodded, smiling brighter.
Damn, that smile. I remember my grandad telling me that he met my granny the day before he left to fight in the war. He asked her to wait for him, and after she promised him that she would, she gave him a picture of her smiling. He said that picture saved his life. It was the only thing that kept him going. It was his light, his hope, his promise in the darkness around him.
That was what Kelsi’s smile was. It was light, hope, promise. I knew, without a doubt, that it could keep me going, that it could save my life.
It was even surprising me how all in I was with someone I barely knew. The closest thing I’d ever felt to this was with Ashley. I’d been attracted to her instantly, and over time I’d fallen in love with her. But it had happened gradually. This was anything but gradual. It was as different as dipping your toe in the water and cannonballing into the deep end. The second I saw Kelsi, I tucked my knees and jumped in, creating a splash of emotion that I wasn’t used to.
She looked down at the ground, her hair falling in front of her face as she conceded, “I bet you do kill. You’re very…entertaining.”
“You’re very beautiful.”
Her eyes lifted to mine and the electricity crackling between us was thick and tangible. Surrounded by trees swaying in the wind, standing beside a pond, it felt like we were cocooned in another dimension. A dimension where magic existed.
Jade’s favorite cartoon growing up had been The Little Mermaid; she’d watched it over and over again. Now, as Kelsi and I stood in this very Disney-esque moment, all I could hear was Sebastian singing “Kiss the Girl.”
Against my better judgment, I began to follow Sebastian’s instructions. Something came over me like I was under a spell that I couldn’t resist, and I found myself leaning forward like her lips were a magnet and mine were metal. Only an inch of air separated us when she blinked suddenly like cold water had just been splashed in her face.
“I better get going,” she blurted out as she was already turning and heading out of the oasis.
I immediately regretted the compliment and the too-much, too-soon almost kiss. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud or to be so bold in trying to kiss her, but actions were louder than intentions. I hoped that I could correct my missteps.
I started after her. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“No, that’s okay.” She held up her hand, walking faster. “I’m good. See you later.”
As I watched her hightail it to her car, I noticed she was talking to herself. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she looked damn adorable saying it. I felt that she was attracted to me too. I saw it in her eyes. I felt it when she looked at me. That’s what I thought I saw and felt, but I could be wrong.
My feelings for her might be in the cannonball category, but it was obvious that she needed time to dip her toes in and get acclimated. She needed to take things slow and not rush. Luckily for both of us, I could be a patient man when I wanted something, and I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything.