by Selena Scott
Caroline really didn’t think that was true. A few days ago, she might have pressed Tre a little bit. Tried to figure out what he was hiding. But after that moment in his bedroom, she didn’t feel the same confidence in their relationship as she used to. He was just as sweet as always, but there was a just a shade of distance between them that Caroline hoped would dissolve in time. Maybe after she’d hooked up with Arturo, Tre would relax again. He’d realize that she definitely wasn’t going to throw herself at him again and he could feel secure in their friendship the way he used to.
It was yet another reason for Caroline to double down on her ‘seduce Arturo’ plan. That hopefully it would help her get her friendship with Tre back on track. She missed him. But she wasn’t going to beg for Tre’s company or for anyone’s. She was a lovely, desirable woman who needed companionship. Romantic companionship. And there was one person in this house who was willing to give it to her, no questions asked.
It was with that in mind that Caroline finished washing up her hands and turned to Tre.
“What song were you humming?” he asked her with a strangely annoyed expression on his face.
“Oh. Sorry! I hadn’t realized I was humming.” She colored. Her constant humming had always bothered Peter, too.
“No, it was pretty. I like when you hum.”
She blushed more.
“I was just wondering what song it was,” he finished.
She shrugged. “Sorry. I’m not sure.”
He was positive she’d just been humming a love song. His already bad mood instantly soured by a factor of ten. He did not want Caroline doing Arturo’s dishes and humming love songs.
“Caroline, darlin’,” Jack called from the table. “What’s your plan today?”
“Oh, well, Arturo still needs a lot of help. So, I’ll spend the day with him.” She floated over to the table and sat where Tre had just been sitting. “But I also noticed we need some things from the grocery store. So I think I’ll head over there midday.”
“I’ll go with you,” Tre heard himself say. He ignored all the faces that turned to him. All their smug, assholish expressions. “I need to pick up a few things.”
He didn’t need to pick up anything. But he couldn’t very well say that just hearing Caroline talk about spending the day with Arturo made him want to spit nails.
“Oh!” Her face lit up. “That’s great!”
“Totally great,” Celia agreed, smiling into her coffee.
“You girls gonna sip your tea all morning or should we get started on, I don’t know, practicing to fight a demon that’s trying to kill us?” Tre glowered at Jack and Jean Luc.
They just smiled right back at him.
CHAPTER SIX
As irritated as he was with his friends, Tre kicked some major ass at shifter practice. He wasn’t as big a bear as Jean Luc and he wasn’t as outright fast as Jack. But he was extremely agile. And he was faster on the shift than either of them. Tre was getting to the point where part of his sparring maneuvers was to shift back and forth between bear form and human form for whatever suited him best at that particular second. It was something that neither Jean Luc nor Jack could do and it irritated the hell out of them. Something that gave him quite a bit of satisfaction.
No one mentioned Caroline or Arturo the rest of the morning, which suited Tre just fine. He was sick of the topic, frankly.
By the time they called off practice, the sun was high in the sky and Tre was covered over in sticky sweat and dirt. Which was why, of course, he took a shower. Not because he was about to drive to town with Caroline. And his beard was itchy and on his last nerves. Which was why he shaved it clean. Not because they’d been teasing him about looking like a scrub. And the clothes he’d worn for the last two days were too wrinkled to be seen in public. Which was why he pulled on his nicest pair of jeans and the only button-up shirt he’d brought. Not because they’d accused him of being too schlubby to ever attract a woman like Caroline.
Even so, he wasn’t an idiot. He bypassed the kitchen, where he knew the group was convening, and went through the side door, meeting Caroline at the car.
“You look nice!” she chirped as she slid into the driver’s seat of their rental van.
Tre was buoyed by the fact that she had a little bit of a blush on her cheeks when she said that. “Thanks. So do you. But you always do.”
She blushed a little more and started humming to herself as she pulled down Thea’s long driveway. They had to drive through about twenty miles of nowhere just to get to someplace a little less nowhere where they could buy groceries.
The drive was long and beautiful as they twisted through the hills. Tre couldn’t think of one goddamn thing to say to her. Never a problem he used to have with her.
She seemed comfortable enough. Humming to herself and paying careful, Caroline attention to her driving. Tre, on the other hand, shifted around in his seat, unable to get comfortable. His button-up shirt felt weirdly constricting. He tugged at the collar.
“We should pick up some new shirts for you in town,” she said, looking over at him with a faint smile on her pretty face.
Tre furrowed his brow. Were his clothes really that awful? Was it just a universal truth that everyone knew except for him? He knew his vintage Ts with the logos on them had perhaps seen better days, but what were her complaints about this one? It was just a dark blue button-up! “You don’t like this one?”
“What?” She laughed, a sparkly little tone that rose up like bubbles from a wand. “That shirt is just fine! I mean, I don’t like it as much as I like your Princess Leia shirt. Or your chicken butt shirt. But that one is nice.”
So, she liked his joke shirts? “Then what’s the problem? Why do I need new clothes?”
“Tre,” she looked at him like she was checking to make sure he wasn’t joking. Her expression cleared when she saw he was truly confused. “All your shirts are too small these days. After all your bear practice. You’ve put on a lot of muscle.”
“Oh.” He couldn’t help the blush that worked its way up his neck and over his cheeks. He knew that were he to unbutton his shirt and look, he’d see the blush sweep over his chest and upper arms as well. He shifted in his seat and couldn’t deny now just how tight the shirt felt. He rolled his shoulders and yup, he was definitely pressing out the seams. “Huh.”
“You didn’t notice?”
He shook his head. “I guess not. I don’t spend a ton of time looking in the mirror.”
“That’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you,” she said, nodding sweetly. “Everyone I knew in Boston was very concerned with image. Peter especially.” She shifted her hands on the steering wheel and gazed out at the mountains in the distance. “When we were first married, he used to come home with presents for me all the time. Jewelry, purses, even shoes or coats. New phones. I thought he was so sweet, even though lots of the things he was getting me weren’t really my style. It took me a year or so to realize that he was buying me all the same things that the other wives at his firm owned.”
“He wanted you to blend in with them.” Tre had maybe never hated Peter more. Seriously, if you had Caroline Clifton on your arm, why the hell would you want to pretend she was just one of the masses? There was nothing normal or boring about the woman sitting next to him right now. He hated that Peter had made her wish there was.
“Unsuccessfully.” She laughed a sad little laugh. “It turned out not to matter what I wore or how much I looked like the other wives. They could sniff out my differences from a mile away.” She blushed and glanced quickly across the car at Tre. “In my head I used to call them the hyenas.”
He laughed and she shook her head.
“How terrible is that?” she asked him. “It probably should have given me a clue that my situation was so bad if I was secretly thinking of my group of ‘friends’ as a pack of hyenas.”
Tre shrugged. “Sometimes we don’t let ourselves see how bad things are because we’re
stuck no matter what. So why not ignore reality and just make the best of it, you know?”
“Exactly,” she nodded her head and her chestnut hair fell forward over her shoulder. “I think that’s exactly what I was doing. For years. I had nowhere to go, no way to leave. So I just rode it out and hoped one day it would change for the better.” She shook her head again and sighed. Taking a deep breath, her lower lip popped between her teeth as she glanced across the car toward Tre again. “Do you have experience with that?”
She’d asked him personal questions before. And he’d always neatly and kindly evaded answering any of them. But, to her mind, the stakes were lower now, because they weren’t going to be romantic. They were just friends. He’d made that clear. So now, maybe she was allowed to press on his personal stuff just a little bit more? She didn’t know the exact rules, but some little voice in her head was telling her to push. She was used to ignoring that voice at all costs. But something about Tre made her want to listen to that voice.
He said nothing and it took a good kick with the old courage boot to get Caroline to prompt him again.
“You seem like you have experience with that,” she said quietly.
Tre sighed and rolled his head to one side to look at her. The afternoon sun was playing angles across his lap, drawing a stark line of heat across the backs of one of his hands, resting on his knee. Caroline could see the dry skin at his knuckles that she always wanted to rub lotion into, the coppery catch of light of the hair on his arms. He always looked so warm to her. It was because of his coloring, she knew, but she would have sworn it was something else she was seeing. Like some sort of natural energy emanating out from him. As closed off as his habits and insecurities made him, he couldn’t help but bring her into his glow. Sitting there in the passenger seat, one elbow resting on the open window, his arm crooked up and tapping a rhythm on the roof of the van, the wind ruffling his hair, his button-up scrupulously buttoned all the way up, like so many Brooklynites did, well, she saw all of that as she glanced at him. But she also just saw his inner light. This red-gold glowing that she couldn’t explain. It made her want to curl up next to him, like he was a fireplace in the winter time. Caroline had spent so much of the last eight years married to a man who was categorically, systematically, naturally cold. She’d learned to take warmth where she could get it.
Now, on the other side of her divorce, she’d found a man who had warmth in spades, only he didn’t really want to give it to her. Caroline’s eyes pricked. That’s why she’d given up on Tre, she reminded herself. That’s why she was going for Arturo now. Because Tre didn’t want her and she was never going to attempt to convince a man into loving her again. It had almost destroyed her to do that with her husband. And Arturo didn’t necessarily have warmth. But he had heat. A sort of zinging, white-hot heat. She didn’t not like it. She was going to take it. She was tired of being alone. She was tired of being cold.
Tre didn’t answer her questions. And neither of them spoke again as they pulled into the Safeway.
Well, it stung, his inability to open up to her, to invite her into his warmth. But it was also exactly what she needed. Any of her remaining hope that Tre might change his mind was firmly booted out of the club. Caroline pictured herself as a bouncer, grabbing Tre by the scruff of his shirt and tossing him out onto some rainy sidewalk. She was done attempting to dig down to the heart of him with a teaspoon. She clearly didn’t have the right tools to get into Tre’s heart. And that was fine. Some woman would someday. He’d made himself clear. He didn’t want her. And that was fine. She had a man who wanted her. And she was gonna take him.
Tre was quiet as he followed her into the grocery store. He’d characterized the silence at the end of the car ride as companionable, but the way she was marching into the store and leaving him in the dust made him wonder if maybe he should have at least tried to answer her questions. He was extremely unused to anyone asking personal questions about him.
The automatic doors slid open and a burst of freezing air conditioning raised goosebumps over the exposed skin of her arms. Tre found he had a little trouble looking away from that pretty sight. “I think there’s a sweater in the car.”
She looked up at him.
“You look cold,” he told her when she just continued to stare at him.
Her eyes widened and she laughed, in what seemed to be a sad way. She just shook her head. “I’m always cold.”
He couldn’t help but feel like they were talking about two different things. She dropped those honey eyes of hers and held up the grocery list, tearing it neatly into two. She handed him one half of the list and a grocery cart.
“You do this half and I’ll do the other.”
“Oh.” She was trying to get rid of him? Tre swung his gaze up to her but she was already wheeling her own cart away, briskly striding into the store in a very un-Caroline-like way. “Alright,” he said to no one.
They met back around the same time at the checkout line and Tre was inordinately relieved that she stood next to him instead of choosing a different line. But his relief didn’t last for long when she turned to the older woman behind them and immediately struck up a conversation about the tabloid headlines.
The older woman laughed, clearly charmed by Caroline, and Tre found himself jealous of yet another person. He knew that distance was essential to preserving Caroline’s heart. He understood that. He couldn’t allow himself to hurt her. But he really missed the days when it had been his ear she was chatting into. He liked listening to her chatter and hum and ask questions and wonder.
She was still chatting to the woman behind them when Tre started loading their groceries onto the conveyor belt. He could barely believe how much food it took to feed their group. Eight was a lot of people. Though Arturo barely ate anything. Tre supposed Jean Luc more than made up for that. The dude ate enough for three people at any given meal. He supposed it took a shit-ton of calories to keep a person of that size running. It was like the difference between gassing up a Honda and gassing up a 747—
Tre’s blood froze solid as he realized what he’d just tossed from Caroline’s cart onto the conveyor belt. He’d unloaded three cartons of orange juice, a pack of paper towels… and a box of condoms.
He knew for a fact that they weren’t for Jack or Jean Luc because he’d been with them when they’d stopped at that gas station outside of Omaha and both men had picked some up. He knew they were sexually active, but there was no way it was humanly possible that either of them needed re-ups in less than a week.
Tre threw a few more items onto the conveyor belt before he couldn’t help himself. “Caroline,” he said woodenly.
She turned to him, pausing her conversation with the woman behind them.
“Can I see your half of the list real quick? I just wanted to check something.”
She handed over the list and Tre held it in one hand, scanning over it. His eyes flung to the back of Caroline’s perfect head. Condoms were not on this list. Which meant that they were a personal addition. Caroline’s personal addition. Which meant that she was planning on having a reason to use them.
“Coming or going, child?”
Tre jumped and looked up confusedly at the cashier who was impatiently waiting for him to continue loading up the belt.
“Right!” he shook his head, which did absolutely nothing to clear it. The rest of the transaction was a blur. Tre found himself loaded down with grocery bags and following Caroline out to the parking lot. His brain seemed incapable of processing, understanding, or moving on from one progression of information.
Caroline had bought condoms.
To use.
With Arturo.
Caroline. Condoms. Arturo. Caroline. Condoms. Arturo. Caroline. CONDOMS. Arturo.
Tre slammed into the passenger seat and sat like a rock.
“Tre!”
He jolted and turned to look at her. She was gorgeous and smiling and strangely fuzzy around the edges. Her vanilla scent w
afted across the cab of the van and laid itself against him like a head on his shoulder.
“Seatbelt,” she reminded him, her head cocked to one side. “What are you thinking about? You’re completely lost in your own world.”
Tre buckled up and shook his head. Caroline. Condoms. Arturo. “Nothing. I’m—I think I’m just tired.”
“I can understand that. You guys put yourself through some pretty grueling exercise. Not that we girls haven’t been working out, too.” Caroline chatted the whole way back to Thea’s homestead. Tre couldn’t help but realize, with yet another jolt, that she seemed light and excited. Much more like her old self than on the drive there. He had the sneaking, sinking suspicion that she was relieved and looking forward to something. Like she’d shed a heavy backpack and put on some brand new running shoes. She was sunny and light and very much peaceful. Like she’d made her mind up about something.
Caroline. Condoms. Arturo.
Tre felt sick.
He helped carry the groceries in a daze. The only thing that brought him out of his daze was Caroline leaving the kitchen. He couldn’t help but follow her down the hall. He was immensely, incredibly relieved when she went to her own room and not Arturo’s.
Tre sagged against the wall, pushing up his glasses to rub at his eyes.
“Dude. What’s going on?” Jean Luc asked from behind him.
Tre whirled and saw Jack and Jean Luc both standing there, eyeing him carefully like he was a bomb that might go off at any second. Well, they could, after all, read his emotions. Tre could only imagine what the hell he was putting out at that particular moment.
He glanced over his shoulder back at Caroline’s closed door before he strode the opposite way down the hall toward his own room. The two men followed him. Tre closed the door after them and watched as Jack flopped down on his bed. Jean Luc took his post leaning against the wall and Tre paced over to the window and back.
“Caroline. Condoms. Arturo.” Tre finally choked out the three words that had been circling his head like stars in a roadrunner cartoon.
