16. Brynlee
Book the trip. Kiss the boy. Eat the chocolate. Dance in the rain. Make the memories. Stop being scared. Before you know it, your life will be over. You don’t want to be filled with nothing but regrets.
—Brynlee’s Secret Thoughts
I’m lifted in his arms, and my breath catches while my mind whirls.
Lord, I missed this man. This connection.
It’s wild. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
The kiss is hot and heavy and somehow safe in a way I wasn’t expecting.
Who am I kidding? I wasn’t expecting any of this, but I’m desperate for more.
I’d say it’s as easy as breathing, but this man takes my breath away.
And when I’m slowly lowered back down on suddenly unsteady feet, I cling to Deacon’s waist for balance and rest my forehead against his chest. “Hi,” I whisper.
“Hi,” he answers with lips pressed against the top of my head. “You just missed your uncle.”
“Max?” I wonder aloud, without letting go of my hold just yet.
“No. Jace.”
“What?” My head pops up and nails Deacon in the chin.
Shit.
“Sorry.” I press a kiss to his chin as my cheeks heat with embarrassment, then grab my bag from the floor.
“You’re gonna have to hit me harder than that to make it hurt, red.” Laughter dances in his dark blue eyes, and he presses a hand to the small of my back, moving me through the gorgeous house I haven’t been in, in a few years.
“Hey,” I tease as we walk into the kitchen. “Meet me in the cage, and I’ll show you just how hard I can hit.”
“Noted.” He grabs two steaks from the counter and opens the back door. “I probably should have asked if you eat steaks.”
“I do eat steak. Can I help with anything?” I pull a bottle of wine from my bag and set it on the counter, then move across the room. “And don’t think you’ve gotten out of explaining what the hell Jace was doing here.”
He pulls a salad from the fridge and motions to the pantry. “Just pick a dressing. I’m going to grill the steak and potatoes.”
I pick two dressings out, not sure which he wants, then find two wine glasses and a bottle opener and follow Deacon outside. The view of the lake looks a little different from here than it did just a few weeks ago.
Holy. Hell.
Was it really just a few weeks?
I somehow feel like I’ve known him so much longer than that.
With a quiet hum deep in my throat, I watch him at the grill and enjoy the way his muscles move beneath his shirt. From a purely professional perspective, of course. I hand him a glass of wine and sit down at the table, crossing my legs and enjoying the lose flow of my sundress over my bare knees. “Okay, spill. What was Jace doing here?”
Deacon gets everything situated, then sits next to me at the table and sips his wine.
No man should look this good. It’s truly unfair.
“This needs to stay between us, okay?”
“Ooh, now I’m intrigued.” I lean in conspiratorially and smile when he cocks his head, waiting patiently for me to agree. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. My lips are sealed.”
When a filthy smile stretches across lips that spent an entire night worshipping my body, heat pools in my stomach. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Kane.”
“I’ll see what I can do, St. James.”
“Focus, Deacon. Why was Jace here, and are you expecting any more of my family to unexpectedly drop by anytime soon? Because I’d like to keep whatever this is between us for a while before the Kingston horde descends.”
“The Kingston horde?” he questions, and I take another sip of my favorite red wine.
“Trust me. It’s fitting,” I warn.
“Jace wants a job,” he finally fesses up.
“Shut. Up. Jace Kingston asked you for a job? Oh my God. Lindy is going to die.”
“Lindy?”
“Yes, Lindy. When she married your goalie the season before last, Jace gave her and Easton so much shit. And then he went and retired at the end of the season. She’s not gonna believe it when he comes back.”
“Cone of silence, Brynlee,” he warns, and I mime zipping my lips, but Deacon shakes his head and gets up to flip the steaks.
I think I kinda like that he already knows some of my fucked up family dynamic. Dating has never been an easy thing for me. The Kingston name comes with a ton of baggage, and I’m lucky enough to also be a St. James, which comes with its own unique challenges. Like finding a guy who isn’t trying to date me to meet my father, or fuck me to screw over my father, or isn’t so damn scared of my father that he won’t even ask me out in the first place.
It’s a bitch, if I’m being honest.
But sitting here with Deacon, I think it may have been worth wading through the others if they led me here.
While Deacon finishes grilling the steaks, I make myself at home in his kitchen and find the plates and utensils, then bring them and the salad outside and set the table. As he brings the steak and potatoes over, then gets the wine and refills our glasses, I decide, without a shadow of a doubt, this is the best first date I’ve ever had.
I mean... I guess technically our night on the beach was our first date.
But was it?
It feels like that first night somehow never ended.
I can’t figure it out, and I’m not sure I care or want to.
It just feels right.
Which makes even less sense.
“So...” Needing to get out of this upside-down spiral, I change the subject. “Do you want to talk about what’s happening with Isla?”
Deacon leans back in his chair and looks out at the lake. “Well, you know she asked if I would take full custody of Kennedy for the next two years. We haven’t settled on a nanny yet, and oh yeah, she also assumed you and I were serious, and you being there as a constant in Kennedy’s life was a big bonus for her.”
“Oh...” I’m not really sure what else to say.
I want to ask him if he liked the sound of that.
I want to know if that scared him.
Hell . . . does it scare me?
Should it?
Or is this my one chance at a family I might not get otherwise?
“She wants us all to do a family dinner this weekend, so Kennedy can get to know you.” His voice is pained, and there are so many warning flares that go off between that sentence and that look, I’m not sure which to dodge first.
And that thought hits me harder than any strike in any octagon ever has.
But that’s the thing... My gut has always told me when to dodge a hit. Dad likes to say it’s in our genes. Killian and I say it’s because we had a good teacher. Either way, I know when to dodge, and I know when to plant my feet and fight. And I’m thinking right now may be one of the times I need to wade into the fight.
“What do you want, Deacon?”
He finally drags his gaze away from the lake, and when he looks at me, I recognize the weight he’s carrying.
I’ve been walking around with it for weeks.
Different reasons.
Same weight.
“Here’s the thing... Kennedy is the most amazing kid in the world. Her heart is huge. I’m not allowed to kill a spider in front of her or she cries, this kid has such a big heart. But she deals with anxiety. Always has. She’s not big on change and generally hates meeting new people. It all makes her uncomfortable, and when she’s uncomfortable, she shuts down.”
“Poor kid. I can’t imagine she’d love moving to a new country with a new language and new customs.” What I leave unsaid is I can’t imagine it could possibly be easy for her to move into her father’s house and start a new school either. Add a stranger into the mix, and I might just make things worse—not better.
“No, that wouldn’t be good for her. I’m worried about how hard my schedule will be on her. Isla and I already can’t even agree on a nanny to interview, let alone hire. I’m worried. I don’t want to give Isla any reason to think that taking Kennedy to Japan is the answer.” He rubs his jaw and looks away again. “I’ve already missed so much of her life, I don’t want to miss anymore. But I also don’t want to pass up this opportunity with the Revolution.”
He finally looks at me, and I almost wish he hadn’t, his pain is so evident in every line of his face. “When I got hurt, I thought I’d never love another job the way I loved being a hockey player. Watching a dream slip through your fingers without having any control over it is a fucking bitch. But I didn’t dwell. I rehabbed as best I could and came up with a new dream. A different dream. Coaching was never what I saw when I looked into my future, but I’m damn good at it. And now I fucking love it. And getting this chance... it’s my one chance. If I don’t take it, it’s not going to come around again. I feel like I’m in a no-win situation.”
My heart hurts for Deacon.
“I already told you, you can’t turn down this job. Not now. You’ve already signed the contract, and this job is perfect for you.” My heart pounds wildly inside my chest.
I can’t imagine being in this position.
Having to make this impossible decision.
Maybe that’s why I do what I’m about to do.
“Do you know that my mom isn’t my biological mom?” I ask hesitantly, unable to wrap my head around my train of thought.
“No, I didn’t. Scarlet’s not your mother?” His words aren’t meant to be cruel, but I bristle a little anyway.
“She’s not my biological mother. That woman ...” I choose my words very carefully. “She was never a part of my life. She actually died recently, and I wasn’t even told until her parents reached out to Dad a few weeks later.”
I drop my hands into my lap and clasp my fingers together until the blood stops flowing
and my racing heart slows. “Dad and Scarlet dated in high school and reconnected when I was three. Scarlet Kingston has been my mother every day since. But if it weren’t for my aunts being there before that, my life before Scarlet would have looked very different.”
“I’m not really following you, Brynn.” It’s not just the sound of my name on his lips or the pain in his voice that has my mind working overtime. But those things, together with my inner voice saying maybe... just maybe this will be the only chance at a family I might ever get, are what I’ll say caused my momentary insanity when I’m asked later.
And I’m going to be asked because this is crazy.
But, hey, so far everything about Deacon and me has felt crazy.
“I’m your answer, Deacon. Marry me,” I tell him with as much confidence as I can muster.
“Brynlee . . .”
“Hear me out. I’m not saying I’m in love with you. I’ve had blowouts that lasted longer than the amount of time we’ve known each other.”
“That’s not true,” he argues gently.
“Close enough. I’m not the same person I was as a kid, and neither are you. But that’s fine. That’s not why this will work. This works because I’ll be done with the Revolution before you ever have to travel out of town for a single night. I’ll be here. I can stay with Kennedy. I’m not saying as her mom, but family comes in a lot of forms. And I can be her family. Bonus points, that would give me legal rights if you’re across the country and her mother is in another hemisphere.” Holy shit. I can’t believe I managed to hide the tremble in my voice. “She’ll have to get used to the first big change, but then, there wouldn’t be another.”
“That’s a huge change, Brynn. I mean, just looking at it from a father’s perspective, Kennedy is already going to deal with the change of living with me and of a new school. Now you want to throw a wife into the mix?” he asks without any venom in his voice. Just concern, and concern I can understand.
“Isn’t that basically what you’re looking to do with a nanny?” I question. “At least with me I’m not being paid to be here. I’m someone she could count on. I’m someone who could care about her.”
Deacon sits across from me, shell-shocked. “Why... why would you offer to put your life on hold, Brynn? Why would you do this for me? What could you possibly get out of this? You’re young and smart and beautiful. You have a great family. Why would you tie yourself down with my mess.”
“Why not. Deacon? None of us are promised tomorrow. I could be dead before I turn twenty-five?—”
“Fucking hell, Brynlee. Don’t say that.” He moves next to me, radiating a sexy protective possessiveness that scares me. I don’t want to break this man.
“Deacon, there’s some?—”
“And what if it doesn’t work out? We just cut ties and go our separate ways? I work for your family, red. I’m not sure that’s going to be as clean as it sounds.” His hand cups my face, while his dark eyes stare at me like they’re trying desperately to understand me. “And what about your family?”
“We’d deal with them after we worked it out with Isla and Kennedy.”
Deacon stares at me for so long, I start to wonder if he’s shocked into silence.
Was this the stupidest thing I’ve ever done?
But just when I think maybe I should take it all back, he pulls me up in front of him and holds my face gently in both hands. “You’d really do this for me?”
“I would,” I answer, savoring his warmth against my skin. “But Deacon, there are things?—”
“It would need to be fast,” he cuts me off before I get a chance to say more, lost in his own thoughts. “Like before Isla leaves.”
I nod, understanding what he’s saying. His ex-wife is leaving in a week.
I close my eyes, and words sit on the tip of my tongue until I can work up the courage to say them. “Would you think I was crazy if I said I have a friend who’s a judge who owes me a favor?” I laugh nervously because why stop sounding like a lunatic now? “I taught her self-defense one-on-one a few years ago. She told me if I ever needed anything, I just needed to ask.”
The smile that pulls across his handsome face is everything. “Baby, I think we’re both crazy because I’d ask if she could stop by tonight.”
“Wait—” I stop us. “Can we keep this quiet until I’m done working for the Revolution? I’ve worked hard for my professional reputation, and I’d rather people find out after the fact. Like once I’m working for Crucible. “
“That’s in a week, right?”
I nod, butterflies taking flight in my stomach.
“What would we tell Kennedy?” He runs his fingers through my hair and tugs before they trail over my bare arms.
“What if we tell her the truth if she asks.? Well... a very curated version of it. We couldn’t wait to get married, so we didn’t. But I’m switching jobs, and we’re both high-profile people, so we decided to keep things quiet for the next week.”
“And you’d move in once you switch jobs?” Deacon’s eyes flare and heat, and I find myself straddling the line of wanting him to fuck me senseless and wanting to sit down and figure everything out.
I nod and rest my hands under his shirt, right above his belt, needing to feel his skin under my hands.
“Call your judge, Brynlee,” he growls, and every single inch of my body stands at attention.
“Yes, Coach.” I smile.
“Oh, baby, we can play with that later.”
“Oh, I like that. Better yet...”—I run my teeth over my lip—“husband.”