“After seeing you and your ex for so many years, it doesn’t surprise me that when you found the right thing, you jumped in with both feet.”
“When you know, you know,” I tell him. He nods.
“I knew the day I met Ash that there was something different about her. I’m not sayin’ it was love at first sight, but I couldn’t get her out of my head.” He chuckles. “She noticed me using an accommodations setting on my phone for my dyslexia and gave me a high five.”
“What?” Lawson asks, laughing.
“Yup,” Rusty says. “She said, ‘Oh, you have dyslexia. Cool. I have ADHD. Our brains are gonna be best friends.’”
The three of us all laugh.
“If that ain’t grounds for instant love, I don’t know what is,” Lawson says, just as Duke and Sonny take a platter of patties and hot dogs off the grill. Then he glances at me and adds, “But I gotta say, Kayla breaking up with Aldridge because of what a certain bartending hockey player said to her? It comes mighty close.” He squeezes my shoulder affectionately.
I nod, humbled. “Thanks, Lawson.”
“Now that’s enough about love. It’s time for burgers, boys.”
The buffet tables are already surrounded by half the party. Someone passes me a paper plate, and I make quick workfilling it—burger, slaw, beans, sweet tea in a mason jar. Kids dart between grown-ups with paper fans, and a playlist of ‘90s country croons from patio speakers. When I turn to find Kayla, she’s already at a long table under the shade, waving me over.
I take a seat directly across from her. Her family is all sitting close by, and every one of them is sneaking looks at her plate.
And I know immediately why.
Last night’s dinner was easy enough—salad and chicken—but this meal is all hands on. Burgers, corn on the cob, and finger foods. It’s Big Hank’s all over again, except it’s not just Kayla, me, and a cute little boy who needs encouraging. It’s family and friends. It’s people she knows and people she’s never met before.
It’s hectic.
It’s also stressing her family way, way out.
They’re eyeing her plate like it’s liable to cause a breakdown.
I slide my foot across the ground and bump hers with mine. She looks up at me. I grab my buttered corn and gesture for her to do the same.
Her eyes tense for a split second, and she pauses. But then she picks up her cob, and it’s like we’re giving a mental countdown.
On three.
One …
Her brothers elbow each other in a show that isn’t as subtle as they think.
Two …
Her dad sits up straighter.
Three.
Kayla puts both hands on the cob and takes a bite.
And I hear her mom sob.
“Don’t you dare, Momma,” Kayla says, ducking her face behind her napkin. “There’s nothing to see here.”
“Of course, sweetie. It’s just dust,” Jolene says.
Next to me, Lawson mutters. “Just when I think I can’t like you more.”
I grin at my plate.
