Swing and a Mishap (Summersweet Island 2)

“That was the worst pun ever,” Shepherd says with a small laugh, and I can’t help but return his grin, even though I kind of want to throw up right now. “God, I’ve missed you.”

My heart skips again when he whispers those last words, and I have to squeeze my hands into fists in my back pockets before I’m tempted to yank them out and launch myself into his arms. I haven’t let myself stick around long enough in his presence to fully appreciate just how overwhelming it is. He’s so beautiful it makes me want to cry. I still look at him and just see Shepherd. I don’t see the fame, and I don’t see the fortune; I just see him. And he’s so sweet, and thoughtful, and I wish he’d just be a huge asshole and treat me like crap. I’m used to dealing with people who don’t consider my feelings first, and I’ve become an old pro at trying to shut everything off when Kevin tells me I’m looking old, or when he tells me I’m not a good mother because I work too much, or when he calls me a bitch because Owen wants nothing to do with him, or when he likes to tell me that he has plenty of women to keep him company and it’s just pitiful that no one wants me.

Of course I’ve never truly believed the things he says to me, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting any less. Laura Bennett always taught me to know my worth. But words can cut, and when you’ve been sliced over and over for fifteen years, sometimes it’s hard to see past the scars and remember who you are. I don’t know how to handle a man who spends hours with glitter and a glue gun for me just so I don’t have to stress out about it. And I don’t know what to say to a man who always looks at me with a smile even when I’m telling him to eat shit.

Shepherd takes a step toward me, which moves him out of the shadows caused by the dugout and into the bright afternoon sun. All my confusion and emotions that make me want to do nothing but cry dry up instantly as a loud bark of laughter suddenly flies out of me, followed by a full solid minute of hysterical giggling.

“What’s up, Twilight?” I finally manage to spit out through my laughter, making Shepherd’s confused smile by my amusement turn into a frown.

“All right, that’s the third time today someone called me that,” he complains, crossing his arms with a huff that just makes me start laughing even harder. “Someone also called me Edward at Island Brew. What the fuck is going on with everyone today?”

At this point, I’m bent over at the waist while I gasp for breath, grabbing my phone out of my pocket and clicking on the camera app, switching it so it’s in selfie mode. Holding my phone out and up in front of Shepherd’s face, it only takes a second for him to see what the entire town has seen today while he’s been out and about.

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters, turning his head from left to right. No matter which way he turns, he’s still standing in direct sunlight. And he still sparkles.

“Do you not have a mirror in your cottage?” I snort, bringing my phone back, locking it, and shoving it back in my pocket.

“It was dark when I left this morning,” he grumbles.

“Well, that will teach you to use so much damn glitter. It was in my bottle of Tylenol,” I tell him, raising one eyebrow at him.

“Sorry. I had a headache after FaceTiming my sister for the second time so she could remind me how to use the Cricut.”

All I can do is shake my head at him, unable to keep my smile contained.

“Thank you. For everything you did last night and for taking Owen home. You have no idea how much that helped me.”

Shepherd takes a few steps toward me until there’s only two feet separating us. Part of me wants to take a step back, because he’s not making it any easier on me stopping myself from wrapping my arms around him, but now I can smell his yummy cologne, and my feet won’t let me move.

“Don’t ever thank me for helping out with shit people shouldn’t have piled on your plate in the first place.”

My heart starts beating faster, and I forget we’re standing out on a baseball field at a public school. It feels like it’s just the two of us and no one and nothing else matters but right here and now.

“I’m so sorry, Wren,” Shepherd whispers, my hands starting to shake in my back pockets and tears starting to prickle the backs of my eyes. “Hurting you was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I thought I was doing the right thing, but it was stupid, and selfish, and I’m so sorry. I have missed you every minute of every day I haven’t been able to talk to you.”