I did suspect Catherine had an inkling.
She tried to corner me one time after dinner and casually asked me if I knew Gabriella, whom she referred to as her future daughter-in-law, even though any sane person could tell you the name Gabriella Costello simply had too many L’s in it.
“She’s my sister’s maid of honor,” I’d replied dryly, taking a sip of my iced tea.
“How interesting. One would think Trinity would have chosen you.”
I’d shrugged. “Trinity’s entitled to her decisions. Either way, I’m pretty sure Gabriella and Cruz broke up.”
I’d said that to remind her I wasn’t threatened, even though I really was. Not because I had any ideas about dating Cruz.
“I’m sure they’ll get back together. He cares about her so very deeply.”
“He sure does, ma’am.”
I wanted to tell her that it was not true. That it was me he cared about. That in another world, another time, we could’ve been a couple.
If I hadn’t throat-punched him.
If I hadn’t gone out with his best friend when really, it was him I was pining for, like the rest of the town.
I was such a cliché. Loving Cruz Costello was like having a Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise poster on your wall in the nineties.
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.
“Mind if I have a private word with your mother?”
“You’re not going to be mean to her, are you?” Bear’s hand halted on the door handle in the backseat. He looked between both of us, acutely protective of me.
My heart lurched.
“Scout’s honor.” Cruz lifted up two fingers.
I liked how he didn’t call Bear buddy or pal like Wyatt did. In a patronizing way I found irksome.
Bear nodded, and Cruz extended his hand to offer him a fist bump, which Bear reciprocated.
“You sure you’re gonna let me play in your game room?” Bear asked again, skeptically.
“And order us some pizza. Send me a text. I’ll let you know when I’m free.”
This conversation definitely shouldn’t have made my panties melt, but it did.
“I’ll be right in, Care Bear.”
“’Kay, Mom.”
Bear exited the car, rounding it to pop the trunk open and take out our suitcases.
Cruz turned to me. “I want to see you this weekend.”
“You see me every week.”
Play it cool. Play it cool.
“Don’t be cute.”
“I’m not being cute, I’m being a practical person. Whatever happened to you not wanting me to tarnish your name with my reputation and me not wanting to get on my family’s last nerve?”
Cruz opened his mouth to answer, but a rap on the passenger window made me jump in my seat. I rolled it down to find Bear’s thunderous frown staring down at me.
I’d never seen him so openly mad. Bear was the chillest kid on planet Earth.
“What’s going on?”
“He’s here.”
“Who’s he?”
Bear jerked his chin toward our front door.
I whipped my head to find Rob sitting on the stair leading up to our porch. He stood up when he saw that we’d noticed him, offering a lame, uncertain wave in our direction.
He looked a little better than he had the first time he came over about three weeks ago. The cast was gone now, and he was freshly shaved and sporting a suit.
“Cruz?” Rob’s face brightened, and he momentarily forgot he’d come here for the family he left behind. “Holy shit, man. Costello?”
“Rob!” Cruz put on his I’m-on-a-horse, Old Spice-handsome smile and slipped outside his car, rushing toward Rob.
The two men did the whole clap-on-the-back hug thing and laughed, circling each other, aging backward as they spoke. I didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this.
Cruz hadn’t spoken about Rob fondly—or at all—during the cruise. After a while, I’d naturally assumed he was Team Tennessee.