8. A Public Declaration
8
A PUBLIC DECLARATION
EVERETT
The cool autumn air nips at my face as I step out of the truck, the girls bouncing out behind me. Their excitement is infectious, matching the vibrant energy of Silver Ridge on a Friday afternoon.
The air is crisp with the faint scent of cinnamon and freshly baked bread wafting from the open windows of Millie's Diner.
Main Street's alive with activity. Locals stroll the wooden sidewalks, their laughter mingling with the jingle of the bell above Garrison's General Store as customers come and go against the backdrop of the majestic, snow-capped mountains in the distance.
God, I love this place .
"Dad, come on!" Hazel tugs at my hand, her eyes fixed on Millie's Diner.
It's been a good week—the team's on board, and the girls have been angels at school. Hell, even I'm in a decent mood. I'm not sure what's gotten into them, but I'm not about to question it.
"Daddy, come on!" Harper tugs at my sleeve, her eyes wide with anticipation.
I let her pull me along, Harper trailing close behind. It's been a good week—hell, a great week. The team's back together. Scepter gave us a little breathing room as we get everything in order. And the girls? Not a single call from the school. It's almost too good to be true.
As we push through the diner's door, the familiar scent of grilled onions and coffee hits me. Sam Thompson looks up from behind the counter, giving me a nod.
"Evening, Everett. Girls giving you trouble?"
I shake my head, a rare smile tugging at my lips. "Not this week, Sam. Seems like they've turned over a new leaf."
"Well, if it ain't the Logan clan," Betty calls from behind the counter, her smile as warm as ever. "Your usual booth's open, sugar."
The girls are already sliding into our usual booth, chattering away. I settle in across from them, watching as Betty brings over our usual order without needing to ask.
"Cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes for my favorite twins," she says with a wink. "And a black coffee for their handsome daddy."
As Betty heads off, I turn my attention to the girls. They're chattering away, their voices overlapping in a way only twins can manage.
"...and then Miss Kenzie showed us how to make friendship bracelets," Hazel says, her hands flying as she talks.
Harper nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, and she said we could make some for you, Daddy!"
I raise an eyebrow. "That so?"
It's all I've heard all week—Kenzie this, Kenzie that. Part of me wonders if she's the reason for their good behavior lately. But I push the thought aside. No use in questioning a good thing.
But it’s better to enjoy the peace while it lasts.
Then Hazel launches into a detailed account of their art project.
"And then," she says, her hands flying as she speaks, "Miss Johnson said mine was the best in the class!"
Harper rolls her eyes. "She said everyone's was the best, Hazel."
I smile, taking a sip of my coffee. "That so? What'd you draw, peanut?"
Harper pipes up, her voice softer but no less enthusiastic. "It was a family portrait, Dad. Hazel drew all of us and even included?—"
She stops abruptly, sharing a look with Hazel that doesn't escape my notice. I raise an eyebrow. "Included who?"
"No one," they chorus, too quickly to be believable.
I let it slide. Moments like these, just me and my girls, they're what keep me going. The world outside might be a mess, but right here, right now, everything's perfect.
"You two eat up," I say, pushing their plates closer. "Can't have you wasting away on my watch."
They giggle, digging into their burgers with gusto. I lean back, surveying the diner. It's bustling tonight, filled with the low hum of conversation and the clink of cutlery. For a moment, I let myself relax, truly relax.
I can't help but notice the girls' eyes darting towards the door every few seconds.
"You two expecting someone?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Hazel shakes her head a little too quickly. "No, Daddy. We just like watching people come in."
I don't buy it for a second, but I let it slide. No point in ruining a good evening with an interrogation. Besides, I've got other things on my mind. The team's all on board for next week's briefing, including Striker and Maverick. Just waiting for everyone to arrive in town.
It’s been too long since we’ve all been in the same room. The thought stirs something steady inside me, a sense of readiness sharpening as I picture the upcoming meeting, knowing we’re prepared for whatever’s coming.
The bell above the door chimes, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance up, and my breath catches in my throat. It’s Kenzie.
She walks in, all curves and quiet confidence, a small smile playing on her lips. She doesn't notice us, heading straight for a corner booth. I watch as she settles in, pulling out a book from her bag.
She looks beautiful today, with her curls wild and free. She's smiling, a genuine, carefree expression that lights up her whole face. It's a good look on her.
"Dad, look! It's Miss Kenzie!" Hazel's whisper is more of a stage shout. "Can we go say hi? Please?"
I shake my head, my eyes still on Kenzie. "Let Miss Duncan enjoy her lunch, girls. We can say hello another time."
But I can't help but notice the way her face lights up as she reads, the soft curve of her neck as she tucks a stray curl behind her ear. She looks peaceful.
"But Dad—" Harper starts to protest.
"I said no," I cut her off, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Now finish your food."
They pout for a moment but quickly move on to debating the merits of chocolate versus vanilla milkshakes. I try to focus on their conversation, but my eyes keep drifting back to Kenzie. She's settled into a corner booth, her nose buried in a book as she waits for her order.
The peaceful atmosphere is quickly shattered when Paige struts in. She’s flanked by her usual crew. My jaw tightens as I watch them scan the diner, their eyes landing on Kenzie with a predatory focus.
"Y’all better hide your husbands." Paige's voice cuts through the chatter.
Kenzie's head snaps up, her book forgotten. I watch as she takes a deep breath, sitting up straighter. "Paige, please. I'm just trying to have a quiet lunch. Can we not do this here?"
Paige laughs, the sound sharp and cruel. "Oh, honey. You don't get to decide when and where we 'do this.' You made your bed when you went after my husband. Now you get to lie in it."
The diner falls silent, all eyes on the unfolding drama. I feel my jaw clench, my hand tightening around my coffee mug. The girls have gone quiet, their eyes darting between me and the scene across the room.
"I've told you a thousand times," Kenzie says, her voice low but firm. "I didn't know Ian was married. He lied to me, just like he lied to you."
"Bullshit," Paige spits. "You expect me to believe that? Because a woman just hops on a bus to meet a man she barely knows. How stupid do you think we are?"
I watch as Kenzie flinches, the words hitting her like physical blows.
“What is wrong with you? Are you deaf?” But she stands and looks Paige in her eyes.
“No. I’m not deaf. I want everyone to know that you’re nothing but a cheap tramp trying to worm your way into our town.” Paige's tirade continues, each word like a dagger. "Well, guess what? We don't want you here!"
I listen to the details of their argument. The pieces start to fall into place, and a sinking feeling settles in my gut.
Kenzie's telling the truth. She didn't know.
The murmurs around the diner grow louder, and judgmental looks thrown Kenzie's way. I watch as her earlier joy crumbles.
Something in me snaps. The sight of Kenzie, shoulders hunched, eyes glistening with unshed tears - it's too much. Before I know what I'm doing, I'm on my feet.
"Girls, stay here," I growl, my eyes never leaving Kenzie's face.
I march across the diner, my heart pounding in my ears. Every instinct screams at me to protect her, to shield her from this undeserved cruelty. I've faced down enemies in war zones, but right now, nothing seems more important than reaching Kenzie.
With each step, something shifts inside me. All the walls I've built, all the distance I've tried to maintain cracks under the weight of the scene in front of me.
I reach Kenzie's table just as Paige opens her mouth for another attack. Without a word, I cup Kenzie's face in my hands, our eyes locking for a brief, electric moment. Then, I kiss her.
The kiss electrifies my entire being, a surge of raw energy coursing through my veins. Initially, Kenzie's body tenses, but only for a moment before she yields to me, her hands grasping my shirt. As our lips meld together, my pent-up desires and frustrations consume me, and I forget why I'd initiated this kiss.
The softness of her lips and the warmth of her skin beneath my palms consume my every thought. I deepen the kiss, reveling in the feel of her mouth against mine, her taste, and the scent of her hair.
I'm aware of the room around us, the buzz of conversation, and the clatter of dishes, but all of it fades into the background. There's only Kenzie and me, our lips moving together, my hands wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer.
She tastes like sweet tea and heaven, and I can't get enough. I want to devour her and erase the distance I’ve foolishly tried to maintain between us.
Her hands slide up my chest, her fingers splaying across my shoulders, and I feel her press closer, her body fitting perfectly against mine. I sense her surrender, her willingness to trust me, and it's both humbling and exhilarating.
My need for her overtakes me, and I'm powerless to stop it. This kiss isn't just about desire. It's about publicly claiming she's mine. And that to get to her, they'll have to deal with me.
Our tongues dance, and I feel her response in the way she moves against me, her breath coming in sharp gasps.
The kiss is hungry and passionate, and if we were alone, it would end with her beneath me.
I know I should pull away, but I can't bring myself to do it. Not yet. I want to savor this moment and the way she makes me feel alive like I haven't in a long time.
When we finally break apart, I see the tears glistening in Kenzie's eyes. And I hear one of my girls whispers, “Daddy kissed Miss Kenzie.”
I did, and I don't regret it. In fact, I want to do it again. I lean in to capture her lips again when I remember we have an audience. And Paige.
I turn back to Paige, who looks like she's been slapped.
"If I ever hear you talking to Kenzie like that again," I say, my voice low and deadly serious, "you'll have me to deal with. Understood?"
Paige opens her mouth, then closes it again, apparently at a loss for words. Without waiting for a response, I turn back to Kenzie. Using my thumb, I gently wipe away a tear that's escaped down her cheek.
"Let's get out of here," I murmur, taking Kenzie's hand. It feels small in mine, but there's strength there too.
She nods, still seemingly unable to speak. I lead her through the diner, calling out to the girls as we pass. "Harper, Hazel, let's go."
They scramble out of the booth, hurrying after us as we make our way to the truck. Once outside, I take a deep breath, the fresh air helping to clear my head.
What the hell did I just do?
The girls are staring at us, their eyes wide with a mix of confusion and excitement. I need to think fast.
We don't stop until we reach the truck. The cool air is a shock after the diner’s heated atmosphere. The girls catch up, their eyes darting between me and Kenzie, questions written all over their faces.
"Get in the truck," I tell them, my mind racing. I need to think fast to make sense of what just happened.
I turn to Kenzie, taking in her crimson cheeks and her slightly swollen lips. A surge of possessiveness rushes through me, surprising in its intensity.
"Come work for me," I blurt out, the words escaping before I can think them through.
Kenzie's eyes widen, her mouth opening in shock. For a moment, we stand there, the weight of possibility hanging between us.
Kenzie's jaw drops, and I realize I've just turned both our worlds upside down with four little words.