Chapter 25 #3
And I think about all the ways I’ve been invisible. The spare son. The one who stays. The one who’s been hiding this woman away like a secret when she’s the best thing that’s happened to me in years.
Fuck it.
‘Actually,’ I hear myself say, ‘she’s more than a crewmate.’
The table goes quiet.
Morgan blinks. ‘Sorry?’
‘Brynn.’ I turn to look at her properly, and God, her eyes. That startled hope in them, like she can’t quite believe I’m doing this. ‘She’s not just a crewmate. She’s – we’re—’
‘Together,’ Brynn finishes, and her voice is steady even if her hand is shaking when it finds mine under the table. ‘We’re together.’
Cassie makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like finally. Tom raises his beer in a silent toast. Cal just shakes his head, grinning.
Morgan looks between us, and to his credit, he recovers fast. ‘Well. That explains a few things.’
‘Sorry,’ I say, though I’m not sure what I’m apologising for. Crashing his welcome home dinner. Being a territorial arsehole. Not speaking up sooner.
Morgan waves it off. ‘Don’t be. I was wondering why you kept glaring at me like I’d drowned your cat.’
‘I don’t have a cat.’
‘Hypothetical cat, Jude.’
Brynn laughs – a real laugh, surprised out of her – and it makes me want to laugh back, makes me want to laugh and never stop.
‘But what about…’ She trails off, glancing at me. The question she’s not asking: What about your dad? What about years of bad blood?
I tighten my grip on her hand. ‘I’ll tell him in the morning.’
‘Jude—’
‘I’m not scared of an old rivalry, Brynn.’ I hold her gaze, willing her to understand. ‘My dad’s been angry at ghosts for years. I’m not going to let that stop me from having a chance at real— A chance of…’ I stumble but it’s only for a moment. I swallow. ‘Happiness.’
The table has gone very quiet. Even Tom’s stopped smirking.
Brynn stares at me, lips parted, eyes startling bright. ‘You mean that?’
‘I don’t say things I don’t mean.’ I brush my thumb across her knuckles. ‘Tried the alternative. Not talking, not claiming you, pretending this isn’t what it is. I’m done with that.’
‘Jude…’
‘Come home with me.’ It’s not a demand. A request. An offering. ‘I know Cassie’s made pudding and I’m probably being rude, but I’d really like to take you home now and show you exactly how done I am with pretending.’
Cassie clears her throat. ‘The pudding will keep.’
‘Take her home, Harding,’ Cal adds. ‘Before Tom starts crying.’
‘I’m not crying,’ Tom protests, definitely misty-eyed. ‘It’s allergies.’
Brynn’s already standing, her hand still in mine. ‘Thank you for dinner,’ she tells Cassie. ‘It was lovely.’
‘Go.’ Cassie waves us toward the door, beaming. ‘We’ll do this again. Properly. When this one’s learned to use his words before crashing family dinners.’
I probably deserve that.
Brynn’s laughing as I pull her toward the door, and the sound of it – bright and free and happy – is worth every awkward moment that came before.
Outside, the night air is cold and sharp with salt. The moon has risen over the harbour, painting silver across the water.
I stop on the garden path. Turn to face her.
‘Hi,’ I say.
‘Hi yourself.’ She’s smiling. That smile I’ve become addicted to. ‘That was quite a speech in there.’
‘I’ve been practising.’
‘Have you?’
‘No. Made it up on the spot. Couldn’t stand watching Morgan charm you for another second.’
She laughs, stepping closer. ‘He wasn’t charming me.’
‘He was trying.’
‘Maybe.’ Her hands find my chest, smoothing over the fabric of my too-nice shirt. ‘But I was too busy waiting for you to show up.’
‘Good.’ I kiss her, soft and sure, right there on the Morrisons’ garden path where anyone could see. ‘Because I meant what I said. I’m done hiding this.’
‘Even with your dad?’
‘Even with him.’ I rest my forehead against hers. ‘You’re worth more than an ancient-history grudge. Whatever happened between our families – that’s their history. Not ours.’
She’s quiet for a moment. The beat of her pause crackles. ‘I found some letters from and to my dad.’
I pull back slightly, searching her face. ‘Letters? Like, before text messages? Imagine a life so laborious.’ She laughs and punches me on the arm. A love tap. I’ll take it. ‘What about?’
A cloud flickers across her expression, but it drifts off as quick as it arrived. ‘I’ll dig them out and show you. They’ve made me see my dad differently.’
‘Yeah.’ I turn us for the lane that leads up to the Trelawney Cottage of Destruction. ‘In what way?’
‘Like someone with feelings. Not just an old drunk with anger in his veins.’
I squeeze her fingers, letting our hands rock gently between us.
‘I’m here to listen. I’m not only an excellent mechanic, fisherman and best lay in the village.’
Her snort startles a bird that’s settled on a roof for the night, making it flap off into darkness.
‘Tomorrow.’ She leans in and skims her lips across my cheek. ‘If your ego hasn’t swallowed the universe by then.’
I chuckle. With Brynn’s hand in mine and the whole village about to find out we’re together, I can’t bring myself to care about tomorrow.
‘Take me home, Jude,’ she says.
So I do.