by Ann Aguirre
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked, parking behind me in Rob’s driveway.
“He might yell at me. I’ll get over it.” Truthfully I couldn’t picture it. I already felt like a bitch, as if I was chucking his kindness back in his face.
“If you say so.”
The back door of his garage wasn’t 100 percent secure if you knew how to jiggle it. I let myself in and hit the button on the garage, then put Tessa Green-tea safely away. Pondering for a moment, I tucked the keys inside the visor. Should be safe enough. After checking to make sure the place was secure, I pushed the panel and ducked out the front to my mom’s waiting car. It wasn’t cold, so she had the windows down, and the air smelled damp and green, the trees all around just starting to bud.
“He’s really got some gorgeous property. The house needs some work, though.”
From the outside, I agreed. He’d been focused on the inside, making it beautiful and livable, so the paint was chipped and peeling, the gutters needed to be cleaned after the long winter and the roof would probably need to be replaced in the next year or so.
“Let’s get out of here before he catches us.”
Laughing, my mom drove us to the dealership, and we didn’t see Rob’s red truck along the way. I was beyond excited when we got there. The final paperwork was ready, so I signed off, took the documentation and the keys and practically sprinted out to claim my beautiful, pre-owned Honda Civic, nicely nondescript in charcoal-gray. But the garage guys promised me it was reliable, and if it turned out they were lying, well, I knew where to find them.
My mom circled around the car once and gave an approving nod. “This is a really sensible purchase.”
“Dammit. Now I have buyer’s remorse. I knew I should’ve bought that old DeLorean on eBay instead.”
“If you want, I can ask Stuart about car insurance for you.”
“That would be great, thanks.”
“Not a problem. Don’t make any plans for next weekend, all right? Stuart and I are hosting a...thing. It would mean a lot to me if you came.”
My gaze flew immediately to her left hand, which was ringless. I raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? Something you’d like to tell me?”
“There might be an interesting announcement.” She glowed at me.
I couldn’t remember ever seeing her look that way, even before my dad went broke. “I’ll be there. Just tell me where and when.”
“Thanks, honey. It’s next Saturday at eight. We rented a private room at the Grove. Are you coming home or...?”
“I’d better stop by Rob’s. I’m not trying to hide this from him, I just didn’t want to have the ‘returning your truck—it’s fine, keep it,’ discussion. This way, it’s a done deal.”
“Okay, good luck.”
He was home by the time I got to his place, just climbing out of his truck. Usually he’d showered by the time I arrived, so I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of him sweaty and dirty after a hard day’s work. His hair was a little shaggy, grown out for the winter. Rob was the kind of guy who got, like, three haircuts a year, two of them during the warmer months. At the moment, he had the beginnings of a beard, and I was inclined to encourage him to grow it.
I swung out of my car. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, yourself.” His gaze went to the Civic. “Can I figure Tessa’s back in the garage?”
I nodded and told him where to find the keys. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”
“Not a problem.” Maybe he was too tired to argue; that could be good for me. “You want to come in?”
Huh. That was a decidedly cooler greeting than I usually got from him. By now he’d ordinarily have grabbed me and kissed me, said something adorable, sweet or both. Before, you said I didn’t need to call before stopping by.
“Not if you’re busy.” Pain splintered outward, starting with a weird, awful tightness in my chest.
“It’s fine, come on.” He headed for the door, unlocked it and wiped his boots on the mat outside. Before stepping onto the polished hardwood, he pulled them off and left them outside.
My shoes weren’t as filthy, but I took them off and left them on the rug just inside. Holy shit. The living room was done, completely finished, painted and furnished. Rob’s taste ran to simplicity, but he had phenomenal style. A soft ecru rug centered the room, allowing the floors to shine in darker contrast. He’d added a chocolate-and-caramel-striped sofa and a plain brown love seat. Clearly he’d made the coffee table himself, and it was a gorgeous piece with flat surfaces above and below for magazines and remotes, then drawers below, likely for hiding stuff, like afghans or snacks. I’d picked out the paint for the walls, but I couldn’t have imagined how nice it would look all pulled together. No pictures yet, but the whole downstairs was done.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. The place looks fantastic.”
He folded his arms, unresponsive to my praise. “We’re just full of not telling each other things, huh?”
“Is this about the car?” I tensed, gearing up for our first real argument.
Before now, I never stuck around long enough to have these awkward moments, where we stepped on each other’s feelings and then had to figure out how to make it right. My instincts told me to run. Huh. So maybe it’s not just guys who bail. Somehow I kept the awful swirling in my stomach from driving me out of the front door.
“You’re the smart one. Figure it out.”
That pissed me off for, like, ten reasons. “Maybe I should let you cool off.”
He let out a sigh. “No, we have to settle this. It’s been a long, crappy day, and it’s harder than I expected at work without my dad. And then I come home to...this. You want the truth? This hurts, Lauren. I mean, you didn’t talk to me or ask me to inspect the car before you bought it. That’s the one thing I know about—fixing things. I can’t do a lot for you as a boyfriend, and it makes me feel like a worthless sack of shit when you cut me out. It’s not that I don’t want you to have a car, I just want to feel like my opinion matters.”
I never thought about it that way; I only saw it as asserting my independence, taking care of myself so Rob didn’t have to. The ache in my chest intensified. It would be better if he were mad, but the look—a raw mixture of pain and sadness—in his eyes said I’d made him feel just like everyone else, as if he wasn’t smart enough for me to solicit his input.
“So...you just wish I’d taken you with me to look, is that right?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
“But...you said it was a waste of money. I didn’t want to argue.”
“You think we’re never going to butt heads? That’s not how this works. If you’ve made up your mind, it doesn’t matter what I think. It’s your money and your call.”
“I’m sorry. In hindsight, I should’ve asked you. But...that seems like a super couple-y thing to do, and...I didn’t know you were my boyfriend.”
He actually flinched like I’d smacked him in the face. Oh, shit. You made it worse. “What the fuck do you think we’ve been doing? I went to your work, remember, and set your boss straight, made it really clear that you’re off-limits.”
The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt Rob. Tears threatened, and I hadn’t cried in front of anyone besides Nadia in years. I chewed on my lip, trying to control the meltdown. This time, though, it wasn’t panic. I’d thought an anxiety attack provided the worst feeling in the world, but nope. Knowing I’d trampled all over his feelings like a thoughtless asshole—that was the pit of hell.
“I thought that was just...you doing me a favor, getting Davies off my back.”
“No.” He spoke the word flatly. “Look, when women hit on me, I tell them I’m taken. Is that wrong?”
I pushed out a shaky breath, fighting the tightness of my throat. “It’s not. I just
didn’t know, when did you clarify? I’m really sorry I hurt your feelings about the car, but you can’t expect me to guess where we stand. I wasn’t in any hurry to pin a label on it. Hell, I like being with you, even when you’re mad at me.”
Before he could respond, I went on, gathering steam. “And dammit, Rob, you need to get it right out of your fucking head that you have to do anything to be with me. It’s not a contest. I’m not ranking your performance. This will never, ever work if you don’t accept the fact that you’re enough for me, exactly as you are. In fact, right now, you’re kind of being an ass, and the best part is finding out you’re not this endlessly patient, perfect person, because I am so incredibly screwed up, yet you still seem to see something good in me.”
“You are all the good,” he said softly.
Hot tears trickled down my cheeks, alerting me to the fact that I’d lost control, but it didn’t shut me up. I didn’t even wipe them away. “And okay, this is how crazy I am. Deep down, this mess makes me happy because it means you trust me enough to show how you feel, because I know damn well you never let people know they’ve hurt you. So by fighting with me, you just inducted me into a VIP club with a membership of me.”
With rough hands, he tipped up my chin and kissed away my tears. Then he wrapped his arms around me. Another girl might’ve protested the dirt and sweat, but it was so good to be close to him. I settled in, winding my arms around his waist and listened to his heart for a few moments in silence, wondering if he thought I was completely nuts.
“You scare me to death,” he whispered.
“Why?”
“Because of how you’ve cracked me open, how well you see me.”
“It’s mutual, you know. I’ve never fought with anybody before. Not like this.”
“Nadia?”
“It’s not the same. When we hurt each other, we don’t fight. We stop talking, and when we’re tired of it, one of us offers sweets as an apology and then we skate past it.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “I never felt sorry for my sister before.”
“Huh?”
“She’s missing out on you.”
“Are we okay?” My knees literally felt shaky. I had no idea how people withstood tumultuous relationships full of moments like this.
“Yeah. Congrats on the car. I’m sure you did a great job finding a reliable one. You’re right, I was kind of being an ass about it. Like you need me to help you do that.”
“Need and want, remember, Rob? We had this talk. It’s not weakness to let an expert offer guidance. I should’ve realized that.”
“Expert might be the wrong word.”
“Quiet, you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Still holding me, he eased back enough to gaze into my face. His eyes were like twilight, dark and full of shadows. “What you said about just wanting to be with me...I’ll work on that. I can’t promise to change my head overnight, but...I’ve always had to earn everything. So it’s hard not to look at you and see this amazing girl I have to bust my ass for.”
“It’s just the opposite. In fact, why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll make dinner. I’ve been dying to get in your sexy new kitchen.”
“So it’s my appliances you’re after?”
“Definitely.”
Teasingly, I smacked him on the ass as he walked away, and he shot me a look so smoky that I almost followed him up the stairs. Down, girl. You promised. I was a better baker than cook, but during my mom’s breakdown, I’d learned by necessity to fix a few things. Rummaging in his pantry and fridge convinced me that chicken and rice would be easiest, if not the fastest dish. I thawed the chicken in the microwave, then layered it with rice, mushroom soup, water and cheese. He also had the makings for salad, so I threw that together.
I was on the couch when Rob came back down. “Where’s my food, woman?”
“In the oven. Can you last another forty-five minutes? If not, we can have salad now.”
“No, I’ll be fine. But you’re really far away.”
Smiling, I moved down the couch and snuggled against his side. I hadn’t been here since he finished the living room, so we’d never done this before. Cuddling in bed inevitably led to sex, so there was a quiet beauty to these moments: his arm around my shoulder, Rob flicking through channels on the remote. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it seemed like there was a new layer of intimacy and understanding between us.
“Keep next Saturday free, by the way. We’re going to an engagement party.”
He grinned. “You’d tell me if it was ours, right? Unlike the car.”
“Don’t even joke.”
“Who, then?”
“My mom and Stuart. She didn’t confirm it, but I can’t imagine any other reason they’d be throwing a fancy party at the Grove.”
“Good guess,” he agreed. “Are you okay with it? With your dad and everything—”
After thinking for a few, I nodded. “I like Stuart—he makes my mom happy. And it’s not like I’m a kid who’ll be stuck with him trying to parent me.”
He seemed to accept that. “So I’ll need a suit?”
“Probably. I can’t wait. I might wear that red dress you remember so fondly.” Provided I could still wriggle into it. Drinking wasn’t a sport that left you fit and trim.
“Evil.”
We watched half an hour of TV before the timer went off and I went to check on dinner. I opened the oven, pleased to find everything had come together in the simple, one-dish meal I remembered. While Rob relaxed, I set the table. In the back of my head, it seemed like we were playing house, though why I didn’t feel that way when he cooked for me, I had no clue.
“It’s ready.”
After dinner, we snuggled on the couch for a couple of hours. I could tell he was too tired for sex, and oddly, that was okay by me. In fact, I had the urge to take care of him. When he rolled his shoulders and winced, I tested his muscles with a questing hand.
He groaned. “I’ll be fine in a few days.”
“I can make it better tonight.” Without waiting for him to move, I crawled behind him and perched on the arm of the couch. At first it was like massaging a block of wood, but as I worked out the knots, he relaxed into my hands. I did his neck, back and shoulders, kneading until my hands hurt. Worth it to see his face look like this.
“I now believe in Santa Claus,” Rob murmured.
“Why’s that?” I kissed the top of his head with a tenderness that scared me.
“Because I’ve been asking him for you for years, and you’re finally here.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Thanks to a week of eating salad and protein bars, I did wriggle into the red dress. Back when I bought it, I thought it was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. Even five years later, it didn’t seem dated, mostly because it was a retro design; I still loved the sweetheart neckline, the slim straps so I didn’t have to worry about a special bra and the beaded silver band that cinched in my waist. Made of sexy red satin, the gown suited me, and the cocktail length showed off my cute red shoes with the dainty crisscross around my ankles.
I twirled, checking out my hair and makeup in the mirror on the back of my bedroom door. I’d put my hair up and pinned the curls in place with silver and crystal hairpins, adorned with lacquered red roses. Since this was basically everything I’d worn to the party that night, I hoped that I lived up to Rob’s memory. Certainly I had higher expectations of him than the date whose name I barely knew even then. When he rang the bell, I trotted carefully down the stairs to let him in.
“Wow,” Rob said.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Let me get my wrap.” One of my casual, puffy jackets wouldn’t suit this outfit at all, so I had a silver pashmina. Fortunately, it was deep enough into spring that the nights weren’t bitt
er cold.
I couldn’t remember seeing him so dressed up before, but he looked incredible in the stark tones he’d chosen: black suit, white shirt, red tie. “You’re so handsome.”
“Thanks. Ready?”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
He set a hand on the small of my back to guide me to the truck, then he opened the door and lifted me in. For a few seconds, he stared at my mouth. “Am I allowed to kiss you?”
“Absolutely.” I lifted my silver evening bag. “I can redo my lipstick, if the package lied and it smears.”
Smiling, he bent down and kissed me lightly. “I won’t risk it. Where’s your mom?”
“Stuart picked her up earlier. They’re finalizing a few arrangements at the Grove.”
Rob closed the door, went around the truck and got in. “Do you know how many people will be there?”
“People from his work, hers, friends and family. I don’t think the private facilities will hold more than fifty guests, so it can’t be too big a party.”
That was the only thing keeping me calm. I didn’t have to worry about meeting new people; I just had to look happy for my mom—easy enough, even with my issues. Yet since I was facing the occasion sober, it was hard not to be a little nervous. Rob distracted me by speculating what kinds of tiny food would be on the menu, so I didn’t fret as much on the way there. Tonight, there was valet parking at the Grove, so he swapped his keys for a ticket and escorted me inside. A host in formal attire guided us from the front door to the back parlor; the doors were closed and a gilt framed sign proclaimed BARRETT-LEE ENGAGEMENT PARTY.
“Told you,” I whispered to Rob.
The guy opened the door for us, and my mom waved in excitement when she caught sight of me. “So glad you’re here. How does everything look?”
I took in the old-fashioned elegance of the patterned carpet, tables covered in white linen. A heavy crystal chandelier shone overhead, reflecting off the small dance floor. From the white roses to the flutes of champagne, the whole room was gorgeous and romantic. Even Stuart had risen to the occasion in a black tux, and he looked every bit as happy as my mom.
