Accidental Shield (Marriage Mistake #6)(56)

Bryce whips the ball across the sand again. Savanny bolts after it a second time and throws his paws around it. Then Bryce tries every combination of words in the book to get the cat to pick it up with his mouth and return it, but it ain’t happening today.

How precious.

Suddenly, I have this weird urge to capture the scene, but not with the camera on my phone.

So I get up and head into the house where I find Flint in the kitchen, busy at his computer.

“Just in time,” he says, dragging his gaze over me with a smile. “I’m marinating some chicken breasts to cook up in a little bit. Hope you’re getting hungry.”

“Sounds good,” I say, smiling at how he always thinks of food first. “But later, maybe. I’m not exactly starving right now. I was wondering if you have some paper and a pencil?”

“Paper? Yeah.” He nods toward the small built-in desk between the kitchen and dining room. “Over in the top drawer, babe.”

“Thanks.” I find a spiral notebook and automatic pencil. “I’m going back outside to watch Bryce and Savanny for a little. Give me a shout if I can help with anything.”

He nods. “What are they doing out there? Heard him yelling his head off earlier.”

“He’s teaching Savanny to play fetch.”

“You’re shitting me.” Flint chuckles, this deep, resonant sound that goes through my ears like molasses. “Wait, you’re serious?”

I nod, trying not to break into a grin. “Yep. He’s a smart kid so...he knows the difference between cats and dogs, right?”

“Sure does. That’s Bryce being Bryce. Couldn’t tell you the number of times he’s banged himself up or taken crap from other kids trying to do the impossible. Every so often, it works,” he says with a wink. “But that’s my boy. Stubborn. How’s his big plan working out?”

“About like you’d expect. Bryce has to steal the ball from Savanny every time, but he’s sure he’ll get the little nugget bringing it back to him soon. Have to admire his ambition.”

“Always do,” Flint says with another hearty chuckle, turning back to his screen.

Always. That comment echoes in my head as I walk back to the lanai. It’s such a simple word, but it holds weight in my heart.

It’s hard not to admire the easy, respectful bond between father and son. So sure and effortless and strong, I think Flint might tear the head off anybody who’d dare suggest Bryce can’t accomplish anything he’s set his heart on. It shows how much Flint believes in him, too.

Screw amnesia. I know that’s as beautiful as it is rare.

I also wonder if I’ve always pondered things so deeply or if it’s just due to the fried egg state of my brain.

Back outside, my mind returns to the scene in front of me. I sit down on the steps leading down to the beach and start sketching Bryce and Savanny on the scratch pad.

Weirdly, it doesn’t take much thought. My hand just goes to work, sweeping across the blank white page, capturing what I’m seeing like it’s second nature.

Twenty minutes later, I’ve sketched up three different scenes of them in action.

Then the ball bounces off the wall next to me and ricochets back to the sand. I barely duck.

“Oh, sorry!” Bryce says, running over to retrieve it. Savanny beats him there, landing on the ball and sinking his fangs deep into the rubber.

I laugh at how Bryce has to work to steal it away.

“He’s a speed-demon, Valerie,” Bryce says, smiling as he hovers over my shoulder. “Never seen one run so fast in my life. Some of the strays around the island are pretty quick, but they’d eat his dust!”

“Yeah, he’s a special boy. Part wild serval. Don’t let it go to his head.” I flick my fingers at the cat as he looks at me, his wild eyes flashing in the fading daylight.

“Oh, right, Dad told me. I looked it up online. Way cool. Can’t wait to show Louie, he lives right down the—”

“We’ve met,” I tell him, biting my lip at the memory. “Nice kid. Should have him dropping off some popcorn soon.”

He steps closer. “So what’re you drawing?”

I flip the scratch pad around and show him.

“Whoa, that’s...that’s art, Val. Me and Savanny. Guess that’s what they mean by spitting image. You have to show Dad!” He grins so wide I almost believe it’s good.

But my cheeks flush at the thought of Flint looking it over. I can almost see those bright-blue eyes slowly assessing my work, then nodding warmly as he flashes another approving smile that could start a wildfire.

Holy hell.

“You know, it’s not quite done yet. Sort of a work in progress. Let’s keep this just between you and me until I say...okay, Bryce?”

He nods and motions like he’s zipping his lips shut, then lets the ball in his hand swing closer to the ground. Savanny sits on his haunches, recharging his feline batteries, lazily scratching at it with both paws.

I start drawing again, but my strokes aren’t as swift this time. My hand wants to draw more than what’s in front of me.

I’ve heard of automatic writing, this weird old-timely spiritual practice, but automatic drawing?

I keep going, slashing at the paper, brow furrowed, almost like I’m channeling a message from the Great Beyond.