Even though I hadn’t packed any of the clothes Cruz had bought for me and insistently dressed in my own stuff, I toned it down for the sake of Bear and gave my hair a break from the spray and my nails a vacation from the acrylic.
Sure, Mom and Dad were their usual selves toward me, and Trinity was a real pain, running after Catherine Costello the entire time, sucking up to her, cooing over every pair of earrings, shoes, or caftan she put on.
But overall, I had a good time. So when our trip came to an end, a big chunk of my happiness stayed on that ship.
As soon as we were poured back to earth and concrete, the two families got into logistics mode.
“Honey, Wyatt and Trinity are renting a car. They can drive you and Bear home. You don’t mind, do you, Wyatt?” My dad turned to him.
Wyatt, who had a bratty, almost childish pout, a dashing face but none of the charm and charisma his brother possessed, kicked a stone in the parking lot. “It’s a bit of a detour, but anything for my sis-in-law and Bear.”
Yeah. He definitely lacked something in the magnetism department.
“I’ll give them a ride,” Cruz volunteered.
“Oh, Cruzy, there is really no need.” Catherine put her hand on his arm. “We can drive them back. I’m sure you want to stop at the clinic before you get home.”
“Multitasking is my forte.” Cruz walked over to Bear and me, and my heart leaped like a fish out of water.
Every time he’d been nice and sweet to me publicly, butterflies wreaked havoc inside me. I didn’t know why. He was nice and sweet to everyone.
Probably because he was nice and sweet to everyone.
Cruz picked up my suitcase, carrying it toward his Audi.
Mrs. Costello said noooooo in slow-mo.
“Shotgun!” Bear fist-bumped the air.
Cruz chuckled. “Maybe next time, son.”
Son.
The idea of anyone calling Bear that made me want to cry. Then again, everything made me want to cry when I was next to Cruz.
This is good, I told myself. That means you don’t truly like him. No love story starts with ‘she couldn’t help but want to bawl every time he was in the same room…’
“That’s nice of you.” I offered Cruz a polite smile, like we hadn’t ridden each other’s genitals and faces three times a night every night for the past seven days.
I couldn’t quite bring myself to thank him.
I didn’t know why.
It just felt crucial to me to come off as a woman who didn’t need him and didn’t take much interest in him, either. None of the needy, overenthusiastic variety he was used to dealing with.
The drive back to the bungalow passed pleasantly, with Cruz and Bear talking about video games and me staring out the window, watching the landscape slide by, and forcing myself not to pretend we were a small but happy family unit.
I’d spent so many years not allowing myself to fantasize, that starting to do so with someone who was both within reach and so far away was a bulletproof recipe for a mental breakdown.
I had to guard my life.
My heart.
And most of all, my panties.
No more babies, Tennessee Turner. You’re getting out of this town in a few short years, not deepening those roots.
When we pulled up in front of my rickety house, Cruz cut the engine and turned to Bear.