“You okay?” Brenda asks as she pops her gum.
My entire body jerks and I turn my head to look over at her. She’s standing at her cash register, her gaze flicking from me to Mark, then back to me. She knows something is going on and she’s trying to figure it out.
I like her and everything, but I have no desire to tell her why Mark creeps me out. She doesn’t need to know I’m dancing, if found out, then the whole town would know by lunch. Inhaling a deep breath, I give her a fake smile.
“Yeah, I just have a lot going on.” At least I’m not completely lying to her. I do have a lot going on, a hell of a lot.
She grins, her gaze staying on mine. “Anything to do with that handsome man that’s been picking you up lately?”
Nodding, I walk over to my register and log in for the day, busying myself so that I don’t blurt out every single detail of my personal life out in the open. “It does,” I agree before I turn my cash register light on.
“Good. You deserve a good one after Joey,” she announces.
Cringing, I hope that nobody in here heard her. Joey seems to finally be getting his stuff together and I don’t want it to get back to him that I was talking badly or anything.
I honestly wish him nothing but the best. I hope that he continues to succeed, as long as he leaves me alone and stops threatening me.
Thankfully, Brenda drops the topic and we spend the rest of the day busily checking out customers. I’m not surprised to see Hutton come through my line with a huge smile on her face as she empties her buggy onto the belt.
“Heard you were moving,” she sings under her breath.
Unable to stop the smile from appearing on my lips, I nod my head. “Y’all don’t have to come and help me.”
She shakes her head as she finishes putting her items on the belt. She pushes her buggy through to the end of the aisle so that I can put her bagged groceries inside. I scan and bag as we talk, an art that I perfected years ago.
“Laurie and I will be there. She needs to get out of her house and her head anyway. It will give her a chance to breathe.”
“Is she okay?” I ask with a frown, knowing that she’s newly pregnant.
My heart jumps with the thought that somehow something has happened to her baby.
Hutton shrugs a shoulder. “She will be once she lets that man in. He’s been trying so hard and she just keep shutting him out.”
I open my mouth to ask if it’s Ford, since I heard the rumors that they had been seen leaving a bar together a few months ago, but then I snap my lips closed, deciding that small town gossip is what causes huge problems. I know that, I’ve seen it destroy families and lives in the past.
That’s how my parents were destroyed.
An image of my mother and father flash in my mind and it makes my heart ache just as much as it did a decade ago when everything fell apart.
“Jesse just needs to swoop in, throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to a secluded cabin for about a month and show her exactly what she needs.”
Blinking, I must look as confused as I feel. Hutton tilts her head to the side. “Oh, Jesse is the father, if you didn’t know.”
Without even thinking, I open my mouth and am unable to control the words that fall from my lips. “It’s not Ford?”
Hutton’s mouth turns up into a wry smile. “Life would probably be a little easier if it was, only because Ford lives here and isn’t traveling as often as Jesse does. But no, it’s Jesse and even if she doesn’t want to admit it, I know that she really, really, likes him.”
“I hope they work out then. Everyone who falls for someone should find their happiness with them,” I murmur.
Hutton gets this dreamy look in her eye and I know that she’s gone somewhere else, somewhere with Beaumont in her mind. She shivers and then her gaze turns to mine as I give her the grocery total.
“So, tomorrow evening?” she asks.
I don’t have a night off for two more days so I tell her that I can do it then and she nods. “The three of us will knock it out in one evening, that way you can be done driving back and forth,” she offers.
“You really don’t have to—”
Hutton holds up her palm. “Yes, we do and we will. We’re family now, Tulip.”
She turns from me without giving me a second to respond and I watch as she walks away, pushing her buggy in front of her. I don’t notice Mark sliding up to my register, I don’t feel his gaze on me, not until Hutton is out the door.
He doesn’t say anything. He watches me for a moment, then creepily turns and walks away without saying a single solitary word. A shiver rolls over my body, but it’s not because of a delicious thought like Hutton’s was, instead it’s a shiver of fear.
LOUIS
I can’t get Tulip off of my mind. Not while I’m doing cardio, not while I’m sparring, not while I’m eating. Nothing takes her out of the forefront of my headspace. I know that I shouldn’t be obsessing over her, but I can’t fucking help myself.
My phone rings and I groan at the name on the caller ID. Normally, I love hearing from my mother, but the past year her reasons for calling have shifted. She no longer calls just to see how I am. Now she calls to ask me for things, without actually outright asking.
I try to deposit money into her account on a regular basis to ward off her needing to ask me for any, but for some reason she’s needed more than I’ve given her, probably more like her man needs more.
“Mama?” I answer as I stab a piece of chicken breast with my fork.
It’s my midday snack and I glance at the clock knowing that Tulip is going to be rushing through the door soon to get ready for Headlights any minute.
I want to at least say a couple words to her before she leaves, so as much as I don’t want to, I know that I’m going to have to rush my mother off of the phone soon.
“He’s left me for good this time,” she sniffles.
Closing my eyes, I hate how sad she sounds and I hate the fact that although she’s sad, I’m goddamn elated.
“He was usin’ you, Mama. He just found someone else to use is all,” I explain, for the umpteenth time.
There’s a moment of pause and she clears her throat. “She’s twenty years younger than me,” she snaps.
Clearing my throat, I’m not sure how to broach this topic. My mother doesn’t usually talk about her personal life, typically because I hate every man she’s had since my father. She has not been a good judge of men, at all.
“Men do that sometimes. Doesn’t say much about you, says more about him,” I say.
She snorts. “How old’s the girl you’re seeing?” she asks.
I can hear it in her voice immediately. There’s a slur and I know she’s been drinking. I can’t remember my mother drinking a drop before my father died. Maybe I’m just blocking that part out, but afterward, she turned to the bottle, the same way that I did, when she was depressed. She’s never truly come out of it either, which I feel has a lot to do with her choices in men, as well.
“Doesn’t matter, Mama,” I murmur.
There’s a moment of silence and I think that maybe she’s hung up on me or passed out. Hearing her inhale a deep breath, she releases it with a sigh. “I just don’t want to be alone,” she breathes.