He grumbles into his food. But he doesn’t move.
From Oliver Fletcher, that’s basically a declaration of love.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SEAN
Aweek later, the tang of vinegar and garlic fills the kitchen—sharp, bright, and alive. Like Kayla’s voice when she flirts with me.
“I know I should help with dinner, but I just love watching you work,” she says from the table while I make Greek dressing for the salad. I’ve been smoking a whole chicken low and slow for hours. Perfect bark. Fall-apart tender. Enough to make Kayla forget Big Hank ever existed.
Kayla’s wearing shorts that show off her legs beautifully, and her left leg is up on the chair, knee around her chin as she looks at our calendar. She’s also wearing one of my T-shirts knotted at the waist. It dwarfs her, but I get the feeling she likes that, based on how often she raids my closet.
I knowIlike it.
“I don’t mind putting on a show for you,” I say, moving my hips like Elvis. She laughs.
“Okay, put those sexy hips away, mister. All we have left this weekend is Jane and Tripp’s baby shower tomorrow, and then the game. Then next week is the Little League championship game.”
“Which I’m not going to,” I remind her, because Mayor Kent will be there, which means Serena, Tucker, and Dakota.
Dakota …
I never let myself think of her, because I can’t move on when I’m looking in the rearview. But I’ll never stop loving that little girl.
“That’s right,” Kayla says, making herself a note. “No problem. I’m sure it won’t be hostile at all.”
I snort. “You sponsored the uniforms. I think they can put up with you.”
“Right. We’ll see how that goes,” she says wryly. “Do we want to go out of town for the next road series?
“Depends,” I say, cracking pepper into the dressing. “Where is it?”
“Raleigh.”
“I loveBull Durham,” I say.
“You’re so cute when you say words that don’t mean anything,” she says, flashing me a grin.
“You’ve never seenBull Durham? It’s a top ten sports movie. I watched it every time it came on TV when I was a kid. You see, us poor people grew up watching movies with these things called commercials. And the movies had all these missing scenes and beeps over the curse words.”
Kayla laughs and puts on a haughty tone. “Thanks for the history lesson, Peasant Boy.” She looks at me, still wearing a smile. “So, is that a yes?”
A knock sounds at the door before I can answer yes (because of course it’s a yes. I’ll go anywhere with her). “Are we expecting someone?” I ask.
She shrugs and pops up. “I’ll get it.”
I pour the dressing into a mason jar while Kayla gets the door. A moment later, I hear words that about stop my heart.
“Dad? Mom? What are you guys doing here?”
“Is that anyway to greet your parents?” Lawson Carville drawls.
“Let alone your brothers?” another voice says, and my stopped heart drops down to my feet.
“Cap,” Kayla says from the front door sounding only mildly panicked. “We’ve got company, babe!”
I think I’m gonna be sick.
