“Sure,” Cruz said. “A bunch. Do you want more?”
“No,” I said, feeling even more disheartened. “I can’t imagine myself with a new one, now that Bear is a teenager. It’s so much work.”
“He’ll help you out.”
“Kids cost money,” I pointed out.
“Maybe the next one will be with someone who sticks around.”
“Life taught me not to count on that.”
His jaw ticked, but he bit down on his tongue.
Fifteen minutes later, he took a right off of Interstate 74 into a cozy town that could double as Fairhope. Massive old trees, an old church, a charming Main Street, and a small creek welcomed us.
He pulled up by a small, white-bricked coffee shop with overflowing flower pots, opened the car door for me, and helped me out. I knew we must have looked strange as we entered the small shop.
Me, in my tacky pink diner uniform, and him, looking like someone’s respectable hot daddy with a few hidden kinks.
Nonetheless, the waitress who came to take our order—an Americano for him and a cappuccino for me—didn’t bat an eyelash when we sat down.
Cruz cut straight to the chase. “Tell me what happened.”
I told him about Gabriella and Mrs. Holland.
About how they insisted I’d serve them. How much they stressed that she was allergic to peanuts—something I doubted anyone in Fairhope didn’t know at this point, seeing as she advertised it as if she’d won the Nobel Prize—and how I definitely hadn’t added peanuts to the sundae.
“Coulter backed you up on that. So did Trixie.” Cruz dipped his head for a moment to check his bulky watch. “Even Jerry seemed skeptical, and he says the customer’s always right, even when Mrs. Underwood claimed she saw traces of her beloved late dog Brutus in one of your burgers.”
“Sounds like everyone in town is caught up-to-date with my latest scandal.” I rubbed my forehead, thinking about poor Bear and how his mom always managed to make headlines. “How mad are my parents?”
“That’s irrelevant, because you’ve done nothing wrong, and anyone with a working pair of eyes and a vague sense of what’s been happenin’ in town for the past month can tell you that. Now, here’s how it’s going to play out. I’m going to lay down the rules, and you’re going to abide by them and do as I say, because frankly, I’m starting to think you’re ready to let them pin an attempted murder charge on you just to avoid your parents and sister getting mad you.”
I licked my lips, waiting for more. I couldn’t argue a cork-sucking thing he’d just said. I was in danger.
Cruz graciously received his Americano, took a slow sip, and continued.
“We’re going to go back to your parents’ to pick up Bear and then head over to my house. Before we leave, you’re going to tell them we’re together, that you’re moving in with me, and that they are not to meddle in your personal affairs anymore. You will not try to explain yourself about Peanut Gate. You will not seek their approval or give them any excuses to draw you into discussing it further. You will inform them of these changes and we get the hell out. Then you will wait for them to come apologize to you. Because, sweetheart? If you don’t start demanding some respect ‘round here, no one’s going to give it to you.”
I listlessly ran the pad of my index finger over the rim of my cappuccino mug, mulling this over. On the one hand, there was nothing I wanted to do more than what he’d just offered.
On the other hand, I was scared sheetless he was going to wake up tomorrow, or the next day, or next week, or next year and realize that I wasn’t good enough for him.
Once the novelty of having the girl he’d crushed on in high school wore off, he’d see that what he had left was a skittish, overly-sarcastic woman with her life in tatters, her career nonexistent, who was still atoning for what she’d done to her parents.
Besides, if I did what he asked me to do—I might not have parents.
“Talk me through what’s going on in that head of yours.” Cruz leaned back in his seat, his eyes following my every moment carefully.
“I’m afraid my family may turn their backs on me if I do that.”
“They may, and in the short term, that might mean not talking to them. But in the long run, you’re all going to figure it out, and they’ll know to stop messing with you.”
It was easy for him to say.
He wasn’t a single mother.
He didn’t rely on my mother for babysitting, on my father for teaching Bear everything he needed to know about becoming a man, and on Trinity for taking Bear shopping.
He wasn’t worried sick about where he’d spend his next Christmas if things went south.
Or ripping a family apart, and the kid in it, a kid who’d had a complicated childhood to begin with.
“But what if that doesn’t happen?” I slumped in my chair. “And what if you decide to dump me next week when another dazzling Gabriella storms into town?”
“We’re playing what-ifs now?” Cruz arched a thick eyebrow.
“All I’m saying is that I’m the one with everything to lose.”
He let out a cynical chuckle. “Yeah, Messy Nessy. You’ve made it real easy to date you, goin’ around collecting scandals like stamps over the past several years.”
The worst part was I knew that if he gave me one final nudge toward his plan, I’d have gone for it in a heartbeat. I would throw caution to the wind and give it a try, even if it meant going against my family.
But as it happened, Cruz was done playing games. He didn’t seem as eager to give out reassurances as he had when we first started…whatever it was we had going on. And I couldn’t grab hold of his aloofness.
I had no one but myself to blame.
Still, I hung onto my pride with bloody fingernails. With everything I had in me, my feet dangling into the abyss of humiliation. If we did this, if I gave up on everything and went with him, and he dumped me, I would never be able to show my face in this town again.
And I’d lose my family in the process.
“What’s it going to be, Tennessee?” Cruz asked, his face impassive, his shoulders tense. He stole another look at his watch. That’s right. He still had to pay the Duggars a house call. “You in or are you out?”
“Do I have to tell you right now?” I gave him a little haughty snort, like I was wildly amused by his theatrics.
I didn’t like to be cornered. I especially didn’t like to be cornered by people who had more power and control over the situation than I did.
“’fraid so, sunshine.”
“You realize it’s not fair.”
“What I’m realizing is that not even a woman I’ve been pining for over half my life is worth this roller-coaster, tenth-grade dating bullshit. I’ve been honest, candid, and committed. You blew me off time and time again. I’m done.”
“In that case, take me to my parents’ house.”
“To tell them we are moving in together and to shove their prejudice up their asses?”
For the first time today, I saw the same boyish, eager glint in his eyes, that made people addicted to his presence.
“No, to pick up my son and go home and try to salvage what’s left of his reputation, if I can manage that.”