Forever After All - Kaylee Ryan Page 0,25
in and kiss her. I almost do, but I think better of it. I know that my sister and Stephanie are close by. I settle for touching the tip of her nose with my index finger before turning and heading back up the hill.
That’s how the rest of the afternoon goes.
The girls take a few turns on the rope to get cooled off, but they spend the majority of their time soaking up the sun, and I’m sure talking about my sister's engagement. As far as the guys and me, we do what we do best—goof off on a warm, sunny afternoon. My eyes wander to McKenna often. It’s damn good to have her home. I can feel the change in me with her here, and I can’t wait to see what happens next.
Chapter 8
McKenna
I’ve spent the last three days with my nose buried in a book. I’m so close to my dream of becoming a lawyer, I can taste it.
Me.
I’m going to be a lawyer.
I’ve dreamed of being just like Gramps since I came to live with them. His knowledge of the legal system kept me with them. He saved me from my drug-addict mother. I would say parents, but dear old dad eventually bailed. Apparently, I ruined his life. Gram and Gramps have paid for countless therapy sessions for the messed-up insecurities and feelings I have toward my biological parents. My grandparents are my parents; they raised me and showed me love. I shudder every time I think about how my life would have turned out had my grandparents not fought for me.
“McKenna Dawson, Attorney at Law,” I answer the phone.
“Mac,” my best friend replies.
“Hey, Lara.” I’d know her voice anywhere.
“Good to see you’re practicing. Are you hiding from me?” she inquires.
“No. Why would you think that?”
“I haven’t seen you since the lake on Saturday.”
“That’s because I’ve been buried in books. Studying my life away for the bar exam.”
“I know. McKenna, you’ve got this. You’re wicked smart, but there is such a thing as studying too much.”
“Are you feeling neglected?” I tease.
“Yes. I am. You and me, we’re going to the Silver Star tonight for dinner and drinks.”
“What time?”
“Seven.”
“Okay.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Mac,” she sighs. “I’m picking you up. I’ll see you at seven.”
“Is this a date?” I joke. “You know I don’t kiss on the first date.”
Her laughter greets me through the line. “Stop it,” she splutters. “I’ve missed you so much. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“See ya then,” I say, ending the call.
“Did I hear you right? You have a hot date tonight?” Grams asks.
“No. Not unless you count dinner and a drink with Laramie?”
She nods. “That’s a date with an old friend. The best kind, in fact.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I think getting away from all of this”—I motion to the dining room table where my books are all spread out—“might do me some good.”
“I think that’s a great idea. You’re going to burn yourself out. Your grandfather says you know the information. He said you did great when he was quizzing you last night.”
“Yeah, well, Gramps is biased.” I laugh.
“I think he’s both.” She grins. “Speaking of,” she says as Gramps walks in the door, “what are you doing home so early?”
“Court was canceled, so I thought I’d come on home and see my girls.”
“Good, you can tell this one she’s going to overload that brain of hers,” Grams teases.
“She’s right, you know. Go on, get out of here. Get some fresh air.”
“Are you getting sick of me, Gramps?”
“I’ll never have enough of you, but I would like to spend more time with my wife.” His eyes crinkle at the corners. “It’s time for me to sit back and enjoy life and let my granddaughter take over the reins.” He winks at me, and my chest swells with pride and love for them.
“Are you really going to trust me with your legacy?” I ask him. I know this is what we’ve always talked about, and a part of me still feels as though I’m not worthy. That little girl in me who was told she was a mistake is still inside me.
“McKenna—” He releases his hold on Grams and comes to stand next to me, bending to wrap his arms around me. “The office isn’t my legacy, sweetheart. You are.”
Hot tears prick my eyes. I nod as it’s not possible to speak with the golf-ball-size lump of emotion clogging my throat.
“Now, now, enough of that. Don’t be crying