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I’d always been up for a challenge, not letting anyone else dictate what I did in my life. Victor could be disappointed if he wanted. Didn’t matter in the end. I was living and working for me …and now for Kennedy.
Now that I had her in my life in the way I’d always seen, always envisioned, I was going to make this work any possible way I could. I wanted to marry her someday, have a family with her. I wanted everything and anything with her. And I wanted to tell Victor all of that right now, but I’d wait until this weekend. I’d wait until we could both look in their faces and explain how much we loved each other.
Maybe if they saw the commitment we had for each other, how much we were in love, they’d see how right it was.
I stood and walked over to the toolbox, digging through it for what I needed. Aside from the clanging of metal hitting metal, the garage was pretty quiet. I knew Kennedy wasn’t home, and although I kind of hated that, it might’ve been a good thing seeing as I was working with her father today.
“What about someone special?”
I stopped what I was doing and looked over at Victor. I didn’t know if he was fishing or just having a random conversation. “Someone special?”
He nodded once and grabbed a tool before walking over to stand by the car. He started tinkering under the hood, and at first I didn’t say anything as I walked back and stood on the other side.
I thought about how best to say this. I wanted to tell him that I did have someone real fucking special. That her name was Kennedy, that I loved her. That she was mine. Instead, I cleared my throat and told myself not to be a jackass.
“Yeah, I do have someone special, actually.” I glanced at him and saw that he watched me. It was clear he was curious, but he didn’t ask more.
For a moment, I thought about just dropping it, but a part of me wanted to push the subject, wanted him to know how much I cared about Kennedy without actually telling him it was her.
“You not saying anything makes me wonder if it’s kind of serious.” There was no judgment in Victor’s voice, and as I looked at him, I wanted to just spit it all out.
“It is serious, actually.” I started working under the hood again, keeping my mouth shut after that because I knew I’d end up saying something I shouldn’t.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” I felt myself start to smile and tried to hide it. I didn’t want to be a sappy fool, especially in front of Victor, the father of the woman I was in love with.
“Why don’t you bring her by Saturday for the barbecue? If you’re that serious about her, I’m sure everyone would like to meet her.”
The wrench slipped from my grasp and I banged my hand on the side of the engine. I held in the curse, his words taking me off guard for a moment. I looked up at him and saw he watched me with a curious expression.
“You okay there?”
I cleared my throat and nodded. “I’m good.” I started tightening up the bolts, and then straightened. “Well, looks like this is all set to go. Carburetor shouldn’t be giving you any trouble anymore.”
I walked over to the workbench and grabbed a rag, cleaning off my hands and thinking over what he’d asked. I looked over my shoulder at him, and saw he was putting the tools away, not pressing me on bringing anyone with me. “She’ll be there,” I finally said, and he glanced up at me. He gave me a small smile.
“Oh good. I’m sure we’d all love to meet her.” He was the one to clear his throat then. I felt a shift in the air, and his demeanor. “Besides, your good news might be just what we need to have everyone relaxing.”
I felt my brows knit in confusion. The way he spoke lead me to believe maybe there was something going on, something that he and Catherine wanted to talk about. It would make sense seeing as they were the ones who threw this barbecue together at the last minute.
He seemed tense all of a sudden, and I really hoped they weren’t going to drop some bad news Saturday. It would put a damper on what Kennedy and I planned on announcing.
I felt like an asshole for not being completely honest with him, but I guess the truth would be coming out soon enough.
Chapter Nineteen
Kennedy
“Where are you going?”
I looked at my dad just as I bent down to pick up my car keys off the coffee table. He was sitting on his recliner, Catherine on the couch beside him, this powder yellow blanket she’d been knitting for the past couple weeks in her lap. She had headphones on and I assumed she was either listening to music or one of those steamy audiobooks she loved so much.
