Swing and a Mishap (Summersweet Island 2)

“And I will gladly hand you the knife,” Shepherd chuckles softly, dropping his head to rest his forehead against mine while his thumbs brush back and forth against my cheeks.

“I’m so sorry I lashed out at you like that. I just kept hearing all the stupid crap in my head I’ve been hearing for years and I took it out on you.”

“Voice of reason right here, folks!” Bodhi shouts from where he’s leaning against Kevin’s golf cart in the driveway.

“What a weak little bitch.”

I have to lock my knees once again and push like hell against Shepherd’s chest when he drops his hands from my face and tries to move around me to get to Kevin.

“Hey, knight in shining armor,” I say softly, bringing one of my hands up to the side of Shepherd’s face to get him to look at me instead of the idiot who can’t keep his mouth shut behind me. “I’ve got this. Let the queen handle this one.”

Shepherd finally looks down at me, the corner of his mouth slowly tipping up until I can see his dimple, and all of that fire and murderous rage he was aiming at Kevin disappears from his face.

“As you wish, my queen,” Shepherd says softly, smirking at me as he takes a step back and sweeps his arm down and up in a graceful arc, pointing me in Kevin’s direction.

I just want to kiss that damn smirking mouth of his again, but I have some trash to take out first. Turning around with Shepherd at my back, and the rest of my family and friends standing around my yard supporting me, I glare at the man who has made me feel like shit for far too long, finally understanding that he doesn’t have any power or control over me anymore unless I give it to him. And I’m done giving it to him. Especially when I have a man like Shepherd standing behind me, making sure of it.

“Get the hell off this island and don’t come back,” I tell Kevin, crossing my arms in front of me.

“I’m not just going to stand around and let some washed-up baseball player take what’s mine.”

“Oh, hey now,” Shepherd pipes up from behind me. “I just retired like, a month ago. I won’t be washed up for at least five years.”

“Oooh, better make it four,” Palmer shouts from the driveway, where he has his arm wrapped tight around Birdie’s waist, looking like he’s trying to hold her back just like I did with Shepherd. “The Bennett sisters are exhausting.”

Everyone laughs when Birdie elbows Palmer in the stomach, and then Kevin has to go and ruin it again.

“In case you’re forgetting something, I’m his father, and there are laws preventing this pathetic little bitch from keeping me from my son.”

I just sigh, so used to these words at this point, but I have to quickly bring my hand up and hold it against Shepherd’s chest when he growls and steps right up against my back. I know it must be killing him that I won’t let him rearrange Kevin’s face, but I love that he’s staying behind me and letting me fight this battle.

“Really? You’re his father?” I ask Kevin, taking a step toward him. “What’s his favorite color? His favorite food? His favorite snack? What PlayStation game does he play more than any other? What was his first word? What’s his shoe size? What does he always ask for when he’s sick? Who’s his favorite teacher?”

Kevin opens and closes his mouth, unable to answer even one goddamn question about his own son, just like I knew.

“Neon green. His mom’s spaghetti and homemade garlic bread, but it has to be angel hair pasta or it’s just gross. Salty is Cool Ranch Doritos, and sweet is a Hershey bar with almonds. MLB The Show 20, although he still sneaks in a lot of Fortnite but will never admit it to another living soul. ‘Titi,’ which is short for auntie, which made Aunt Birdie deliriously happy and Mom not so much. Seven and a half. A Sprite with a straw and Flavor Blasted Goldfish crackers, but they have to be put in the plastic Spongebob bowl. And Mrs. Schneider,” Shepherd rattles off without missing a beat or even pausing to think.

God, I love this man so much.

“You’re his coach and you’re screwing his mother,” Kevin tries once again with his sad attempt at making me feel bad. “Of course you know a lot of stuff about him, because you’re around him all the time.”

“And whose fault is that?” I fire back. “No one but yourself. You’ve had fifteen years to be a father to that amazing, wonderful boy inside that house and to get to know him, and you chose not to. It says a lot about a man by the way he treats his child’s mother. You’ve never hidden the way you feel about me in front of him, and it’s spoken volumes over the years. It’s your fault Owen can’t even stand to look at you or be in the same room with you, not mine, and certainly not Shepherd’s, who is more of a man than you could ever even hope to be and has done nothing but love us and take care of us, and never once makes us feel like we aren’t good enough for him. So for the last time, take your narcissistic bullshit off this island and stay the hell away from me and Owen. He has a father now, and it certainly isn’t you.”