25. Twenty-Five

Twenty-Five

Carson

The Florida sun is turning the ground-breaking ceremony into a personal sauna. Sweat trickles down my back, soaking into my starched white dress shirt. I shift uncomfortably from the growing dampness that clings to my skin.

It's a ground-breaking ceremony, but the publicity coordinator felt it would be more dramatic for us to cut a ribbon instead of throwing a shovel of dirt. I don't quite get her logic, but I'm only here as a representative of Knight Security. Our company has contributed money and resources to this particular charity.

Next to me, Connor mirrors my stance. A wide grin plastered on his face. He doesn't seem to mind the heat, his youthful energy never wilting. While I feel a simmering frustration. This ribbon- cutting charade, while dramatic, feels like a colossal waste of time.

Finally, they announce, "Okay, you can begin to cut the ribbon." Connor, with a huge grin on his face, eagerly plunges the oversized scissors down with a flourish. I offer a grin when I'm directed by the photographer. The cut ribbon flutters to the ground as the watching crowd gives a rousing cheer.

Connor and I swiftly step out of the way as people surge into the space: the publicity coordinator and the photographer approach. "Hey, your son is a natural. Those photos I got with his smile will go over big." I reach down and squeeze Connor's shoulder in praise.

The coordinator leans down and states, "Hear that? Your picture is going to be in the newspaper and on the evening news tonight."

Connor just shrugs like it's no big deal. I hide my grin as I ask, "Are we done here? Have you gotten all the pictures you need?" The photographer assures me, "Don't worry, I got plenty. Thanks for your patience, both of you."

With that, I shake their hands. As I usher Connor away from the crowd, I glance down at him. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready for lunch."

Connor replies with a grin spread across his face, "Me, too! I'm starving!"

I smile as I shake my head, as my son always seems to be needing food. As we climb into the air-conditioned car, I steal a glance at him. "What kind of food sounds good?"

He scrunches up his nose in thought. "I don't care. How about Chick-fil-A?"

"Perfect." I put the car in gear and drive toward the fast-food restaurant.

Once we've stuffed ourselves with chicken sandwiches and waffle fries, we make our way to the car. My mind wanders to thoughts of Anna as Connor keeps up a constant chatter on the drive home.

I shift uneasily in my seat as I remember how she looked this morning when we left. Her smile was brittle and didn't reach her eyes. She never said a word to me about my decision to keep her out of the public eye. But I can tell that my words hurt her. She acts like nothing is wrong, but the easy-going camaraderie that was developing between us seems to have evaporated.

I can't say I regret my words, but I didn't tell her the entire truth. It was also for her protection. When Kat mentioned the gossip rags, my first concern was for Anna. I didn't want some fame-hungry reporter splashing gold-digger all over the media. Her sordid history needs to remain in the past - where it belongs. I feel adamant about that.

We step into the elevator, I hit the button, and the doors close.

Connor looks over and, with a grin on his face, asks, "Dad, do you know why the number six is scared of the number seven?" I think about it for a minute, knowing this is a joke, "No, Connor, why is six scared of seven?" Connor's eyes are filled with merriment as he gives the punchline, "Because seven ate nine!" I can't help it. I break into a grin and then start to chuckle along with him, and soon, we're both laughing hardily as we enter the apartment.

I know the minute I smell something simmering on the stove, I messed up. Anna avoided me this morning as Connor and I got ready to leave. I never got a chance to tell her about my plans to grab lunch before we came home.

Anna comes around the corner. "Welcome back. I hope you're both hungry." The smile on her face appears forced. "I made spaghetti and meatballs with plenty of garlic bread."

As Connor and I glance at each other with guilty expressions, her eyes narrow in suspicion.

Giving her my best apologetic smile, I mutter, "It's my fault. We stopped at Chik-fila on the way home."

As her face tightens, I try to smooth things over, "Sorry, I should have mentioned it when we left this morning." At her continued silence, I say a bit defensively, "I didn't expect you to go to all this trouble for lunch."

I watch as she takes a deep breath. "That's fine. I understand." She walks into the kitchen and turns off the stove. Over her shoulder, she says to Connor, "You should probably change out of those clothes before you get them dirty." A sharpness to her voice that isn't normally there.

Connor wisely nods, turns, and, with a sheepish look in my direction, escapes to his room.

I watch as Anna, her shoulders stiff and her back ramrod straight, begins pulling down food containers from the cabinets. She dishes a small portion into a bowl for herself and then methodically starts transferring the remaining food into containers.

I stand there for a few frustrated moments but she studiously keeps her back to me. "Anna, it was just fast food, but I should have called to let you know." At her continued silence, I feel like a heel. I walk into the bedroom, peel the sweaty dress shirt over my head, and drop it in the hamper with a grimace. I take a quick shower, then change into jeans and a T-shirt.

When I emerge from the bedroom. "Where's Connor?"

"He's taking a shower," she mutters, about the same time my mind registers the sound of running water coming from the main bathroom.

I guess I was expecting Anna to be over the lunch misunderstanding. She isn't. She avoids my eyes as I step farther into the room. I immediately go on the defensive. "Really? You're still angry because I took Connor to lunch?"

She swirls around and then places her hands on her hips. "You could have mentioned it this morning." She flings at me.

I fire back, "You were avoiding me!"

Her chin rises in a defiant gesture. "You could have texted me," she says, her tone icy.

I nod, "Yes, I could have, but I forgot." I then mutter, "I already said I was sorry. What else do you want? Blood?"

She turns wounded eyes toward me, "That's unfair, and you know it." She stammers in a shaky voice.

I take a deep breath, trying to control my temper. "Look, we both know this goes deeper than a missed lunch." I tell her in a hard voice, "You just need to trust me. I'm doing everything for the right reasons." There's now a sharp edge to my voice as well.

At my words, her eyes go wide in outrage, "I need to trust that you're doing it for the right reasons?" Her voice is cutting, "When you can't trust me at all? You won't even let me tell you about my marriage. Let alone talk about Graham—"

"Stop! Not another word." I ruthlessly cut off her communication. "I don't want to hear about your marriage or your late husband," I say with a sneer.

"Carson, if you'll just let me explain—" I hear the pleading in her voice, but I clench my jaw and shake my head. "No, Anna. Not in my house. I don't ever want to hear one word spoken about him ." I grit my teeth as I refuse even to speak his name. The words I tossed down are like a challenge as I stand my ground.

I watch Anna, her throat working as she gulps in a few hurried breaths. She closes her eyes, and when she opens them, they are swimming in tears. I refuse to let her tears sway me. She finally nods in defeat. We both hear the main shower turn off. Anna hurries into the master bathroom.

When she emerges sometime later, her tears have dried. But the stress lines around her eyes only appear deeper.

I shrug off my guilt at the sorrow I saw in her eyes earlier. I push it firmly down as I try to convince myself that I have the right to demand she not speak his name. But deep down, I know that I'm being unreasonable in my request. Yet, I stubbornly don't change my mind.

A week's gone by, and it's again the weekend. We're driving over to my mother's for the family cookout. Anna brought her Cherry Delight dessert at Connor's insistence.

My son sits in the back of the car, his eyes wide in anticipation of the family gathering. "These cookouts," he asks, leaning forward in his seat, "they started with your dad, right? My grandpa?"

He's asked me to tell him about the cookouts. "Yes, Carlton Knight, the man you're named after." I have to clear the huskiness from my voice before I go on.

"He loved to entertain as much as my mother. Every four months or so, he'd throw a big hog roast and invite everyone he knew. It soon became legendary." I say with a bit of laughter in my voice. "After my dad died, the cookouts stopped for years. When your Uncle Chase married Val, she said your grandma might be lonely. So, we started having the cookouts again."

Connor pipes up, "And you had to buy a new cooker, right?" I grin, as he's heard the story many times but never grows tired of it. "Right, a new smoker." Then I continue as I promise, "Today, you'll get to meet all sorts of family. There's going to be a huge crowd."

The car engine clicks off, and I hop out. I grab the door for Anna as she carefully balances the sweet dessert.

I take her hand, and we weave through the people who have arrived. The air is filled with the smoky scent of grilling meat. It's a picture-perfect day—the sky is flawless blue, with not a single cloud in sight.

My brothers and I had tarps strung up to provide shade from the relentless Florida sun. The soothing sound of the nearby river provides a constant soundtrack as the backyard fills with a mixture of happy chatter and laughter.

My brothers and I man the grill and smoker. While tables groan under the heavy weight of the numerous covered dishes that promise a multitude of different tasty bites. While kegs of beer and overflowing ice chests offer cool refreshments.

There are several boats already docked, and their owners are expertly securing them to the wooden pier. The huge boathouse stands as a silent sentinel, watching over the scene.

I scan the crowd, searching for Connor. A smile spreads across my face as I spot him by the river, playing with a group of kids. He's met more family members today than he ever imagined possible. His eyes widen with wonder as everyone takes turns introducing him to the entire Knight clan. When Anna tries to hang back, I take her hand firmly and include her in the introductions to my family and friends. Her delighted smile was my reward.

Jaxson greets us with a hug for Connor and a grin for Anna. He throws me a quizzical glance. "Acquaintance, huh? I get it. I guess you weren't ready to explain about your son." He pats me on the back heartily. Turning, he introduces Anna to his wife, Maggie, a vibrant redhead with sparkling green eyes. He picks up their daughter, Mandy, a toddler with Maggie's red hair and his own dark eyes. She waves shyly, then hides her face in her father's shoulder.

My family welcomes Connor with open arms. Every single one of them embraces him with a welcoming hug. The old-timers, those who remember me as a child, declare the resemblance "uncanny." To them, the three of us are a family, even without a ring on Anna's finger.

My eyes follow Anna as she makes her way through the dwindling crowd. She's wearing a blue flowy sundress that swirls around her legs, and the bright sunlight makes her chestnut hair gleam.

If my family and friend's speculative glances bother Anna, she doesn't let it show. I give a deep frown. She's been quiet lately, not her usual cheery self. At first, I thought I might have irrevocably broken the fragile bond that had started to form between us with my outburst that she not talk about the past. But there's no outward resentment, no simmering anger directed at me. No, this runs deeper. A silent worry seems to follow her like a cloud.

Living together, spending time together…, and sharing stolen moments throughout the day have only reinforced my attraction to her.

She gives a zest to my life that wasn't there before. She's so easy to be around. Never one to hold a grudge, she's sunshine to my grumpiness. Her soft smiles and gentle touches have me racing to get home at the end of the day.

They also leave me craving more from her. I've tried hard to keep her at a distance because I can't erase the past. But another part of me aches for a deeper connection, a hint of the spark I saw in her eyes so many years ago.

A heavy sigh escapes me as I realize the truth—the truth I've been hiding. I'm in danger of falling in love with Anna, and it terrifies me. It could shatter the world as I know it, leaving me with only torn fragments of my once-guarded heart.