He fires up the engine and navigates us down the drive and onto the road. He lets me stew for a few minutes before he asks, “What level of crisis is this? Ice cream run? Shoe shopping? I already have a wife whose mind I have to read; I would appreciate not having to read Mateo’s wife’s, too.”
“I’m not his wife,” I tell him glumly, leaning my head against the side of the car and watching the trees as they pass.
My tone must effectively convey the level of and reason for my blues today. Adrian nods and sighs to himself, but he doesn’t bug me anymore.
So, we drive around. I don’t think we’re really heading anywhere, but then he pulls into a parallel parking spot at some south loop storefront. I take in the sombrero decal on the window and the name of the place.
He brought me to a taco joint.
I smile faintly at him in the rear view mirror. He shoots me a wink and climbs out, walking around to open my door.
“Thanks,” I murmur as I climb out of the car and step past him.
He shuts the car door and heads toward the restaurant to open that door for me, too. “Tacos make everything better.”
—
Three tacos and two margaritas later, I am feeling much better about life.
“You know what,” I tell Adrian, grabbing my giant margarita and taking a drink. “Not being pregnant is awesome. I couldn’t have a margarita if he got me pregnant.”
“Look at that silver lining,” he says, a bit dryly. “What’s the joy of parenthood compared to having a three dollar margarita with your dinner?”
“Exactly,” I say with enthusiasm, like he’s legit agreeing with me. “And it’s not like I don’t get to enjoy their babies. I adore Rosalie. And I’ll adore this baby. Who cares if I never get any of my own, right? That’s not such a big deal.”
His eyebrows rise and fall, but he does not offer further comment on this.
I don’t need him to, anyway. He just has to be an ear for me to fill up with my problems.
“Sharing is hard sometimes,” I inform him, firmly planting my drink back on the tabletop.
Adrian nods. “Westley would agree with you. I can’t relate, personally. I’m a grown-ass man; I don’t share.”
Nodding a bit dolefully, I say, “I bet that’s nice. Don’t get me wrong, I’m used to sharing. I don’t even mind it mostly, but this makes my heart hurt.”
“Meg shouldn’t have told you.”
“It wasn’t on purpose, she just slipped up.”
Adrian rolls his eyes. “Sure she did.”
I glance at him, but I don’t put much stock in it. The Morelli men are all suspicious of everyone’s motives, and Adrian is no exception. I’m sure it benefits him to be cautious for his job, but this is… well, actually, managing us probably is sort of part of his job.
“Last time he got her pregnant, it was before we got together. For some reason I convinced myself…” I trail off, shaking my head. It sounds too stupid even in my head, so I can’t let the words out.
Adrian nods, seeming to understand.
“Do you think she’ll ever change her mind?” I ask, suddenly meeting his gaze. “Do you think she’ll ever let me have his baby? I thought she would have already changed her mind by now.”
Appearing reluctant to weigh in on this, he eases back in his chair. “I think it’s not really my business.”
At that, I have to roll my eyes. “Please, everything in this family is your business.”
He shrugs like he wishes he could help, but can’t. “I don’t understand how you guys manage this whole sharing thing to begin with. The way you feel right now, that’s probably how she feels when she thinks of you having his baby. You’re feeling like this because he got her pregnant and he’s already done it before. Do you think Meg is going to voluntarily put herself through that for the sake of your happiness?”
No.
I droop when he frames it like that.
Meg is never going to let me have his baby. Not ever.
I suck down the rest of my drink. “I need another margarita.”
Adrian is checking his phone at this point. He shakes his head. “I think you’ve had enough.”
“Adrian, I don’t get a baby; I need a margarita.”
Since he can’t argue with that, he sighs at me and goes up to order another.
By the time I finish that one, the ache is effectively numbed. Hanging out with Adrian is nice. We normally don’t hang out by ourselves because Elise is a dragon if she thinks anyone’s trying to inch up on her territory, and even though it’s absurd, she trusts me least of all. I’m not allowed to have any fun friends, so if I want to play, it’s really just Mateo or Adrian. Mateo isn’t here, plus he’s on the naughty list tonight for impregnating Meg. And Adrian bought me tacos.