Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I worry that I’m not enough for her. That she’s missing her mother in her life, a woman who, even though I didn’t love, would have been an amazing mother to our little girl. She doesn’t have that. Instead, she gets me, and I hope like hell that I’m doing right by her.
“Kenny!” Blakely calls out with her mouth full.
“Manners,” I remind her. “Don’t speak with your mouth full.”
She visibly swallows the rest of her food, opens her mouth, sticks out her tongue, then calls out and waves to Kennedy a second time. This kid spends way too much time with my brothers and me.
“Blakely, you look beautiful.” Kennedy stops by our table and gives my little girl all her attention.
“Jade did my hair.” She turns in her chair to show Kennedy, and I hold my hands up to keep her from falling.
“She did a great job.” She smiles at Blakely. Then her eyes find mine. “Declan.”
My heart kicks up its rhythm. That’s only ever happened when I’m near her. I hate it and love it all at the same time. “Kennedy. Everything looks great.”
“Thanks.” She smiles kindly. “I can’t take credit for it. Palmer and my grandma had it all worked out. I’m just here to make sure it’s executed.” She notices I don’t have a plate. “Are you not eating? You know they have enough food for three times this amount of people.”
“I’m going to. Just waiting on someone to come sit with Miss Sassy Pants.” I gently poke Blakely in the side, making her giggle. That sound is one I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
“I can sit with her. Is that okay with you?” she asks Blakely.
“Yeah, we’re friends,” Blakely replies.
“It’s okay,” I tell Kennedy.
She ignores me and pulls a chair out next to Blakely. I watch as she grabs a napkin and gently wipes at my daughter’s mouth as if she’s done it a million times before. “Go, we’ve got this, Daddy.” She smiles at me, and it takes my breath away.
“I’ll be right back.” I point at Blakely. “Be good for Kennedy.”
“Daddy,” she shakes her head, “I’m an angel. Papaw told me so.”
I huff out a laugh as I stand and drop a kiss on top of her head. “Thank you,” I say, my eyes meeting Kennedy’s. “Can I bring you back something?”
“Oh no, I’m fine.”
I nod, but I plan to make her a plate anyway. I’ll just grab her a little of everything. As she said, there’s more than enough food for her to feed a damn army. I make my way toward the line.
“Where’s Blake?” Rushton asks.
“She’s already eating. Kennedy is sitting with her.”
“She’s cute.”
“Of course she is. She’s my daughter.” I know he’s not talking about Blakely. He’s right about Kennedy, yet he’s wrong. She’s cute as hell, and sexy as fuck. I’ve never thought the two could be equally correct about one woman, but Kennedy has proven it’s possible.
Rushton chuckles. “I wasn’t talking about Blake, even though we all admit the kid is cute as hell. I was talking about Kennedy.”
“No.” I don’t need another one of my brothers hitting on her. Not when she makes my heart race like no one ever has. His smirk tells me he knows exactly what I’m saying no to.
“What? I’m single. She’s single. We’re the same age too. Mom said she’s twenty-five.”
I’m six years her senior and a father. She needs someone other than me, but it won’t be one of my brothers. “No.”
Rushton grins. I ignore him. Instead, I grab two plates and begin to fill them.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“One is for Kennedy.”
“Aww.” Sterling steps up behind me. “He’s even making her a plate. You’ve got it bad, brother.”
“Fuck off,” I quip with no heat behind the words. I ignore the rest of their ribbing as I continue to make our plates. I grab a handful of napkins, sure that Blakely will more than likely need them even with the stack I already grabbed.
When I reach the table, Blakely is talking a mile a minute, and Kennedy is giving my little girl her full attention. I place a plate in front of her and one on the other side of Blakely, where I was sitting. I walk away to grab us both a bottle of water.
“What’s this?” she asks when I make it back to the table, handing her a bottle of water.
“Your dinner.”
“I’m not a guest, Declan.”
“You are now,” Brooks says. I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “Enjoy, we have plenty, and we’re celebrating my wife.” His smile is bigger than his face as he bends down and blows a strawberry on Blakely’s face, making her laugh. He stands and points at Kennedy. “Guest,” he says, not leaving any room for argument.
“See.” I’m smug, knowing I won. No one likes to lose.