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Authors: Rebecca Sherwin

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            “Yes we did.” I look over my shoulder at
Jonas. Dad’s whiskey always ruins him. Poor Grace is struggling to hold him up.

            Mum, Emma and Jade battle their way to
the front of the shop, looking for food, and suddenly I can smell the Chinese.
But I can't move; I’d happily follow Deacon to find the food that is making my
mouth water, but I can't choose food over seeing that look in his eyes.

            “You didn’t text me back.” I pout.

            “No, I didn’t.” He smirks, “Thought I’d
let you sweat it.”

            “Bastard.” Finally he moves towards the
smell and I follow eagerly, “Was it okay?”

            “Yeah, silent on my part. And his.”

            Jonas pushes past us with Grace in tow,
desperate to get some food before it runs out, and I stand behind the counter
with Deacon watching everyone fight over the free bag of prawn crackers.

            “You know he’s threatened by me, right?”
He asks.

            “Is he?” I already knew that, “Thanks
for the food.”

            I know he bought it; Jonas’ pay from his
job as a waiter at Blue Rays doesn’t leave enough money left over to feed seven
people the only Chinese food within twenty miles.

            “No point thanking me if you’re not
going to eat it.”

            He steps away from the counter and walks
to the empty table, slides out a chair and picks up a box from the seat. He
holds it up and winks at me, before coming back to where I’m waiting. Deacon
puts the box on the side, lifts me onto the counter, stands between my legs and
produces chopsticks from the back pocket of his jeans.

            “Open.” He orders, but I shake my head.

            “What is it?” I ask.

            “What’s your favourite?”

            “Singapore noodles with sweet and sour
chicken.”

            He opens the box and tips it towards me,
showing me the food exactly how I like it.

            “Open.” He repeats.

            I open my mouth and he uses the
chopsticks to give me the noodles, feeding himself after every mouthful he
feeds me.

            “Is it good?” He asks.

            “Everything you do is good.” I nod,
watching him take a mouthful, “Perfect.”

            He winks, and I love it. Something so
small, something done every day, makes my heart skip a beat and the butterflies
in my stomach wake up.

            “Deac, can we go home?” Jonas calls from
his chair. Jonas asking to go home means he needs to be sick. No negotiations.

            “Duty calls.” Deacon smiles, putting the
box and chopsticks next to me.

            “Text me before you go to bed.”

            He nods, “I’ll text you once I’m tucked
up in your bed.”

            “Kip will probably take my bed.” I say,
disappointed that I won't have Deacon’s smell all over my sheets tomorrow.

            “Nope,” he grins, “I’ve got it.”

            “I don't even want to know.” I put my
hands on his shoulders, waiting for him to lift me off.

            The sounds of conversation and movement
round the shop cut off like they’ve been sucked from the atmosphere. The only
sound in the room is someone’s gasp as Deacon cups my face and kisses me.
Really kisses me, like he’s starved for me, and I want to cry again.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says freeing
me, and then he’s gone.

            “Jen?” Mum and Emma ask together.

            “It’s going to work out.” I assure them
as I slide off the counter, “I promise.”

 

            The shop is freezing first thing in the
morning. We stopped baking around three am and all fell asleep sitting against
the wall drinking tea. I wake up first and snuggle into Deacon’s sweatshirt for
warmth, and it still smells like him. I run my hands through my sleep-tussled
hair and stand up, stretching before I go to the back for tea. No one mentioned
what happened last night; either because they’re realising I need to talk about
things in my own time, or because they were all that shocked that we kissed in
full view of every one.

            “Well that was like firework night.”
Jade makes me jump, “So you’re, like, with him?”

            “He’s what I want, Jade.” I reach up for
more cups realising everyone will be up soon, “He’s what I was put on this
earth for.”

            “Finally!” She throws her hands in the
air, and her hands land on my shoulder, “Finally, you get it.”           

            I smile and open my mouth to talk, but
we’re interrupted by Emma, and I try to avoid eye contact. She’s going to be
mad after last night; I managed to avoid her for the rest of the time we spent
baking, but I’m dreading what she has to say.

            “Hi, Kip!” I hear Grace shriek from the
front of the shop, and I know it’s in warning.

            I’m grateful for it as I whip the
sweatshirt over my head and throw it in the cupboard under the counter.

            “Morning girls.” He says, “I brought
coffee.”

            I flip the kettle back off and take a
deep breath before walking out front to greet him.

            “Thanks.” I take one from him and give
him an awkward kiss on the cheek.

            “No worries, baby. We’ve all got to do
our part.” He’s back to thinking everything’s okay, “How was your Chinese?”

            Or he really does think this is some
sort of battle.

            “It was perfect.” Emma glares at him,
“Perfect timing and so thoughtful.”

            She declines coffee and disappears into
the back again. I smile apologetically at him as Dad, Jonas and Brad walk in
the door. My brother looks awful and I laugh.

            “We’ll set up.” Dad says, limping to the
nearest chair.

            “Pa, your knee is bad.” Jade points out,
before I can.

            “I’m fine. Go and shower.” He laughs to
himself, “No one will buy your cakes if you smell.”

           

After some persuading from my dad, and Mum finally
relenting, Jade, Grace and Emma head back to Emma’s to shower and change, and
Mum and I go home.

            “Do you want to eat before we go back?”
Mum asks, heading straight for the kitchen.

            “No, I’m good. I’m waiting on a hot dog
from the barbecue.”

            We’ve had a few days of terrible
weather, but the sun has come out for the fete, and I plan on wearing the black
summer dress Mum bought when I first got back, today. If I’m going to be on my
feet serving cakes all afternoon, I’ll wear my flip-flops; I can take them off
if it gets too –

            “Hot.” I say out loud as I walk in my
room and see Deacon in my bed, his arms crossed behind his head.

            “Morning, beautiful.” He smiles.

            “What are you doing?” I ask.

            “I told you I’d be in your bed.” He
chuckles, “If London-Boy gets all day with you, I get the morning.”

            “That’s not how it works.” I shouldn’t,
I know I shouldn’t but I lean down and kiss him. I missed him, “I need to
shower.”

            “Have you got plans for tonight?”

            “You know I can't see you tonight. He
knows, he hasn’t said anything, but he knows.”

            “So call off the engagement.” He says,
as if it’s that easy.

            “It’s not that simple.”

            “Why not?”

            “Deac,” I kiss him again, “I really need
to get back. We’ll talk about this, I promise. Just not now.”

            He nods and throws the sheets back. He’s
completely naked underneath. I can't help but stare, before my brain realises
I’m supposed to keep my head clear, at least for today. My head will not be
clear after seeing Deacon in all his glory, lying in my bed.

            “I want you out before I come back.” I
laugh and throw a pillow at him on the way out of the bedroom.

           

 

            The fete is busy, full of locals and
tourists; so many families and couples with children or dogs. I get to sit down
on one of the chairs at our stall before we get hounded. Mum has been roped
into helping out with tombola, Emma is off making herself busy so people don't
ask how she’s doing, and Grace and Jonas are walking around with Jade, Steve
and Phillipa. So it’s just Kip and I standing at the stall, waiting.

            “How was boy’s night?” I ask to make
conversation.

            “It was okay,” he sighs, “your dad fell
asleep and Jonas and your friend went out to buy you dinner.”

            “Yeah,” I start, realising they won't
even say each other’s names, “Jonas bought food for his girlfriend, and Deacon
thought he’d treat his lonely, widowed mother to a Chinese takeaway.”

He doesn’t reply, and we stand in an awkward silence
until the stall is flooded with people.

The kid’s cakes sell out first; the monkey faces go
quickly, as do the treasure map vanilla cupcakes and the strawberry cakes
decorated with jellies. When the parents realise I’ve gone all out and made
decadent cakes, they go quickly and I have to send Kip back to the shop for the
rest of the cakes before we sell out.

            “How’s it going?” I turn to see Brad
looking at what cakes are left.

            “Good. I’ve got some more on the way if
you want to wait.”

            “I will.” He smiles and I crouch down to
stroke Sasha when I realise he’s got her, “When’s he off home?”

            “Tonight, hopefully.”

            “Okay boys!” Ms. Peyton shouts, walking
through the crowds of people to stand on a podium in the middle, “I need teams
for the annual tug of war! Mr. Reid has already volunteered as team captain,
anyone wish to head the challenging team?!

            “I will!” Kip shouts, thumping the
crates on the table and waving his hand in the air.

            “Please tell me
you’re
the
volunteering Reid brother.” I say to Brad as he looks over the new arrivals and
smiles.

            “Nope.”

Chapter 27

 

Deacon

 

 

The constant rain of the last few days
gives way to a break in the clouds and sunshine in time for Sunday’s fete, and
I’m on the way there with Brad, who’s fortunate enough to have Sasha for the
day. She’s skipping along, the pink lead dangling from Brad’s hand and I shake
my head.

“You can't use your own lead for her?” I
ask.

“Funny,” he cackles in response and
looks at his hand, “I didn’t even notice that before.”

“I’m sure it’s part of Rach’s
cock-blocking plan.”

Crazy bitch. Their relationship was
enough to put the strongest-willed men off the opposite sex for life. I know,
from going to school with her, and her making herself way too available when
she was dating my brother, that she’s a few sandwiches short of a picnic
basket.

“And what about your master plan?” He punches
me in the shoulder, “You think Kip will get any in a bed that been marked your
territory?”

He laughs; he’s clearly getting his
kicks from my predicament.

“Jesus, I didn’t piss on the sheets.”

“How did you get it anyway?” We stop,
waiting for Sasha to stop scratching at his legs, “Where did the fiancé sleep?”

“On the sofa.” I say with a lot more
gloating than I was hoping for, “I won because technically I’m family. Didn’t
even have to ask. I got there first yesterday and Esteban gave us the talk. Said
he wasn’t comfortable with London-Boy sleeping upstairs.”

“Sweet.” He grins, managing to peel the
dog from him, “At least Riv’s on your side.”

“Yeah. He’s on the side lines with his
foam hand and a banner.”

Brad laughs, but I’m not sure if I find
it funny. The whole situation is out of control; Jenna didn’t seem too keen to
get rid of him when I spoke to her earlier, and it worries me that she still
doubts what’s going on between us - it’ll be harder for her to call off her
engagement the longer she’s in it.

 

“Deacon?” I stop still, hearing the
dancing steps behind me and curse when Brad laughs and continues walking.

“Liz.” I turn around in time for Lizzie
to hug me her hello, “I thought we were done talking.”

            “Don't be such a man.” She
playfully slaps me on the chest, and I just pray Jenna is nowhere near us, “My
aunt saw you with Bradley. She wanted me to ask you about the tug of war.”

            “What about it?”

            “Will you do it?”

            I shake my head and carry on
walking, unsurprised when she quickly catches up and skips along next to me.

            “No.”

            “Please?” She grips the top
of my arm, but I pull out of her hold. This needs to stop, “if we get another
load of skinny dads doing it, it’ll be a big flop.”

“So ask someone else who isn’t skinny.”

She rolls her eyes, “If people know
you're doing it, it’ll be like a personal challenge. We’ll have them queuing to
go up against you.”

“Great.”

“Please just say you’ll do it. It’s just
tugging on a rope,” she strokes her hand down my arm, “I’m sure you’ll rock
it.”

She reaches for my jeans and I step
back, needing to get out of this situation and wondering why this street isn’t
as busy as I want it to be.

“Fine, as long as you back off, I’ll do
the fucking tug of war.”

She claps her hands and screeches that
annoying sound that makes my teeth grind and I find it unusually easy to
continue walking and not look back as she dances away.

 

“Thanks for that,” I say to Brad when I
notice he’s on the corner of the street waiting, “glad you got my back.”

“Always, little brother.” He thrusts the
pink lead into my hand and scarpers before I have time to fight him over it.

           

 

~

“Okay boys!” Ms Peyton squeals as she
climbs up on the makeshift stage in the middle of the crowd, “I need teams for
the annual tug of war! Mr. Reid has already volunteered as team captain, anyone
wish to head the challenging team?!”

“I will!” Comes an annoying familiar
voice and I look over to Jenna’s stall and see Kip waving his hands in the air
like an idiot.

Brad is over by the stall with the dog
and laughs at the expression on Jenna’s face. Yes, apparently her fiancé and I
are going to be on opposing teams in a display of macho-man strength. This can
only go wrong for me; I either lose and look like an idiot in front of the
newcomer who just won't go away, or I win and look like the villain for
embarrassing him. Either way, this ends badly.

“The game is on in fifteen minutes, sign
up boys!” Ms. Peyton cries and the crowds gather around the stage. Lizzie was
right.

I take the time I have to go over to the
cake stall, arriving at the same time as Jade, who’s helping Jen with selling.

“You can't stay away for five minutes?”
Kip asks, glaring at me.

He pulls Jen into him by the waist and I
hear the breath escape her in a rush from the force. She makes no secret of
trying to pull away from him, and I try to control my anger.

“I fancy a cake,” I keep my eyes on his
arm around Jenna, “I worked up an appetite last night making sure your fiancé
was fed and comfortable.”

I get the desired effect, and he lets
go; I watch Jenna rub at her hip and look back to Kip and notice he’s squaring
up to me.

“You're kidding, right?” I laugh, “Mate,
don't embarrass yourself.”

I brush some crumbs off his posh
polo-neck top and walk away.

“Tell me again I need to accept that
he’s in your life.” I hear him say as I walk away and my smug smile evaporates.

So he has said something to Jenna; I
thought she was being paranoid when she said he knew. I grimace, hoping I
haven’t just made things worse for her, before Ms. Peyton grabs me and pulls me
towards where the tug of war is being set up.

           

The crowd is already gathered in the
centre of the fete and I’m standing towards the middle of the rope, feeling
like an idiot for agreeing to do this. The last thing I want to do is draw any
attention to myself.

“Deac?” Jonas asks, tapping me on the
back and taping some red tape around his wrist. The colour of the team opposite
me, “Don't think I’m being an arse. I think he’s a stuck up rich boy and I’ll
be glad when my sister kicks him to the curb. But I’ve got to make life easier
for her.”

“J, it’s cool. I don't want to do this
anyway.”

 

We shake hands and he takes his place in
his team. It doesn’t matter than he’s on the team, if he’s thinking of Jen; but
I’m glad I got Brad and Steve behind me. At least if we lose, I won't be the
only one embarrassed; none of us are small guys and we can take the humiliation
together. Everyone gets into position, and I wish team leaders went at the
back, because I’m six feet from Kip and clearly he’s still got a vendetta
against me; he’s taking this way too seriously.

“Ready?” Someone shouts. I think it’s
Ms. Peyton’s husband, “Three, two, one, go!”

I try not to be competitive, but it
consumes me as I watch Kip try with all his might to floor me. Instantly, I
couldn't care less about embarrassing him, or being the bad guy; the
gratification of beating him is worth being told off by the family for making
him feel stupid. If he thinks he’s strong enough to pull Jenna about that’s his
problem, but I will beat him.

I grip the rope tighter, feeling it bite
into my hands, and bend my knees, pulling as hard as I can. The crowds are
shouting their encouragement and we’re working as a team, giving a little and
then pulling back together and I feel the other team slacking. My feet are
slipping on the grass, but I won't let go. Ignoring the burn in my hands I dig
my heels in and give one last pull, watching Kip lose his footing and fall to
the floor, the rest of his team following suit.

It’s an incredible feeling, watching him
fall, but as the rest of my team celebrates winning, I’m rugby tackled to the
floor and take a punch for not seeing it coming. I try to push Kip off me but
he’s trying to pound the shit out of me. I manage to shove him in the chest and
he falls back. By the time we’re back on our feet a crowd has circled us and a
couple of boys are holding us back.

“Stay away from Jenna!” Kip shouts. No
hopes of anyone thinking the game just got out of hand now.

“Can you hear yourself?” I shake the
others off me, I wasn’t the one who started the fight, “If you’ve got self
esteem issues you should deal with that. We’re friends. Get over it.”

I turn and walk away, not listening to
the whispers around me, but Kip practically runs past me and back to the stall.
I’m only going over there because my mum’s standing next to Jenna, with that
I’m-your-mum-and-I-want-to-kill-you look on her face, and has my wallet and
keys. Jesus, this guy is pathetic; if he’s worried about Jenna and me, that is
no way to deal with it. He’s losing his mind.

“Jen, we need to have this out.” He
says, grabbing her wrist as she’s trying to serve a kid.

“We’re not doing anything here, Kip.” She
pulls her hand away, lets the boy have the cake for free and walks away from the
stall. We both take an instinctive step towards her but she turns on her heels,
“Don't you follow me.”

           

‘Where are you?’
I text Jen when the
fete starts to empty out, and I notice she hasn’t come back.

She doesn’t reply, so Brad and I clear
up her stall and get everything put away. I take the few leftover cakes back
with me to Mum’s, avoiding a run in with Kip, or Jenna if she’s trying to
ignore me.

“Are you staying for dinner,
sweetheart?” Mum asks when we get back to hers and I sink into the sofa with a
beer.

“Yeah,” I answer, because if Jenna
doesn’t reply I want to be close enough to go round and ask her what her
problem is. I didn’t start the fight, didn’t even throw a punch, “I’ve got to
be up early tomorrow though.”

Mark rang me earlier; I’m needed at the
hospital tomorrow. I was hoping to get some work started on the shop; I’ve got
everything Jenna picked out on Thursday being delivered tomorrow, but the boys
are having problems with the RSJ and I need to go over the suitability checks
before we can get the external walls and footings in.

            “I’ll get dinner on early
then,” Mum says, hanging up her jacket and going into the kitchen.

I follow her in there without saying
anything, and she hands me some potatoes and a peeler. She does something next
to me with fish, and unasked questions hang in the air.

“Mum?” I ask, scraping the peeler along
the potato.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. For you. When
Dad died.”

She drops her knife; she obviously
wasn’t expecting me to say that.

“Deac, why would you apologise for
that?” She keeps her back to me while she washes her hands and dries them, but
I see she’s upset when she looks at me and takes the peeler away.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Come.” She beckons me to follow her and
we step out into the back garden, heading straight to the bench I watched her
and my dad sit on many nights, talking about their day, “What’s this all
about?”

“I was a jerk.” I confess, sitting down
next to her, “I’m just sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Don't ever apologise for that.” she
takes my hand and sniffs. I know she’s crying again, but I can't look, “People
deal with...death, in different ways.”

“Yeah, but I was horrible. The Rivera’s
were there for you and I should have been.”

“Sweetheart, you were twenty one years
old, do you think you should have looked after me? It’s the promise I made when
I knew I was having you and Bradley. Don't ever apologise for being yourself
and dealing with things how you felt comfortable.” I open my mouth to argue, “No
buts. I knew you’d come back to me, once you’d dealt with the big changes in
your life. I’m not surprised it’s Jenna we have to thank for it.”

“What?”

“That day when I interrupted you in the
shop to talk about her?” she asks and I nod, “I told her what you were doing to
each other wasn’t right. You were horrible together, and for the first time
since you were born a mere six months apart, you brought the worst out in each
other. But now...she’s brought you back to me.”

“Wow.”

“You miss him, don't you?” She asks,
pulling a tissue out of her sleeve and wiping her nose.

I nod, “Yeah. I do.”

“Me too.” Mum stands up and holds her
hand out for me. I take it and follow her back inside the house, “Let’s make
dinner and watch ‘Enter the Dragon’.”

“Dad’s favourite film?”

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