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CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Kennedy

“Thank you for choosing Willow Manor,” I tell Mrs. Wilson. She’s just scheduled the banquet hall for her fiftieth wedding anniversary in August.

“This place is perfect, and I just love your grandmother. How is she?”

“She’s doing well. Thank you for asking. She’s still in a cast, but she’s not letting it keep her down.”

“Oh, I bet not. Maureen is lively,” she says, smiling kindly. “Please tell her I said hello.”

“I will,” I assure her as I escort her to the door. My phone rings as soon as it shuts, and I smile when I see Morgan’s name on the screen.

“I miss you,” I answer.

“I miss you too. How are you? How is your grandma?”

“We’re both doing well. I’m at the manor now. Just booked a fiftieth wedding anniversary party.”

“Nice. How’s that man of yours?”

“He’s not mine.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asks.

I release a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.” I don’t need to elaborate because I know my bestie can read between the lines.

“Then grab it with both hands and never let go.”

“I’m barely divorced.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re divorced and free to do as you please. Don’t let fear or the expectations that society has put into your head keep you from experiencing greatness.”

“How do you know it’s greatness?” I ask her.

“The sound of your voice.”

“How are Iris and Mitch?” I change the subject.

We spend the next fifteen minutes getting each other caught up before agreeing to talk again soon. I make a quick trip through the building, checking all the doors are locked and the lights are turned off before grabbing my stuff and heading home.

I’m not even pulled out of the lot when my cell phone rings. I smile when I see it’s Declan. “Hey, you. Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I’m the boss.”

“There is that.” I chuckle. “What’s up?” We’ve talked on the phone every night this week. Sunday morning, he took me back to Alyssa’s for my car and tried to convince me to come to Sunday dinner with his family, but I declined. I needed to spend time with Grandma. He even invited her, but I still declined. He called that night, and we talked for hours, and it’s been that way every night since. He usually texts me during the day while he’s working, which is why his call, although welcome, is unexpected.

“You said you would be done around three.”

I look at the clock on the dash, and it’s two minutes after. “I just got into my car to head home.”

“What are your plans tonight?”

“Nothing.”

“Come to my place. Have dinner with us. I’ll have Blakely. I hope that’s okay. I just— I can’t leave her again after two nights last weekend.”

“Declan, I would never expect you to. You’re her daddy before anything else. That’s how it should be.”

“I’ve never had to worry about splitting my time with her before.”

“If this is too much…” I leave my words hanging.

“No. No, Kens, that’s not what I’m saying. It’s different for me, but I’ll adjust. I want to spend time with you. Please say you’ll come. I know it’s not a romantic date, but I promise good company.”

“Stop. I don’t need romantic gestures. You’re real, Declan. Real surpasses putting on a show anytime.”

“Oh, babe, trust me, my romance is not a show.”

My smile is huge. I’m glad he can’t see me. “It’s the small things,” I tell him. “Like dinner on the couch on Friday night with you and your little girl. It’s the time spent, not where and how.”

“He’s a fucking moron,” he mutters.

“Who?”

“Lyle. He lost the best thing that ever happened to him. I don’t plan to make that same mistake.” He rattles off the code to his garage. “Head over whenever you want. I won’t get out of here until five thirty or a little later, and I still need to go pick Blake up from my parents’.”

“Do you want me to do that?”

“You’d do that?”

“Yes.” I don’t hesitate. “I’m done for the day. Grandma is meeting with her sewing club. What sounds good for dinner? I’ll go home and change, pick Blake up, and she and I can go to the store. She’s literally right next door to me, Declan.”

“You’ll need a car seat.”

“I’m just now leaving the manor. I’ll stop and grab yours.”

“I can grab something for dinner on my way home,” he offers.

“Nope. Blake and I are making dinner. No complaints. I’ll be there in a few. I have one small stop to make before I get there.”

“Be safe, Kens.”

“Always. I’ll see you in a few.” Ending the call, I pull out of the lot. I stop at Dorothy’s Diner and order him a large sweet tea as an afternoon pick-me-up. I grab one for myself and briefly consider ice cream for Blakely as well. I decide to grab that at the store so we can all indulge before making my way to his shop.

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