“Not until ten. I’m done at two. Want to go for a ride in the afternoon?”
She smiled, rolling over.
“Mmm. You know how much I love that booty. But hot damn, this is my favorite side of you.”
She laughed. “Good to know. I’d love to go on a ride tomorrow afternoon. Want to come over to dinner on Sunday? It’s at Tate and Matt’s this weekend. She’s feeling a little better, but Polly Chase is making a turkey. For kicks, because she’s weird. But wonderful. Like freshly baked bread.”
“She sort of is. But scary. I just fixed her Lincoln last week. She’s good for business.”
Beth giggled. “I know I shouldn’t laugh. Polly is pretty amazing, actually. She’s good at so many things. But she is the world’s worst driver. It’s cute how all her sons scramble to find ways to give her rides so she won’t get behind the wheel. When they cart all the kids around, Edward drives the big van.”
“I don’t know about Sunday.” He was trying to spend at least one night a week with his parents. He stopped by daily as well, but dinner was a way to keep an eye on his dad, to see how this new treatment was working. And to watch his mother too. The stress was taking a toll on her.
She shrugged. “If you decide you can make it, come over. You know it’s not fancy or anything. Bring Buck with you or the kids will be sad.”
Buck barked under his breath.
“Like he’d have it any other way.”
“Bring your parents if you like.” The hesitation in her voice tore at him.
“I’ll see. If I can make it, I’ll see if they can too. I can’t promise, but I’ll try.”
She didn’t say anything else.
He pulled her close, nuzzling her neck until the tension in her spine lessened. He’d talk to her about it once this treatment worked. When they were on the other side of this mess.
Chapter Eleven
“I can’t believe you got me my very own helmet.”
The way she smiled up at him made him warm inside.
“Well, I mean. I had an extra one. I just wanted you to have one for when we went out on a ride. We’re not going to be able to do this for several months once it gets rainy and cold.”
“Yes. But you made it all customized. You’re adorable. Did you know that?”
“I can shoot an M16. I’m not adorable.”
She laughed, clearly delighted. “You totally are.” She snuggled up to him as they stood in line to get their food. “Denying it only makes you cuter. So there. Catch 22. I win. End of story.”
He kissed the top of her head, keeping her close.
“I’m so hungry.”
“Is that your way of telling me you aren’t sharing your rings?”
She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “Joe, who shares rings here? Get your own. I might let you have a bite of my fried peach pie. Maybe. You could get an apple one and we can share.”
“Please. You’re cutthroat when it comes to pie. I’m having a shake anyway.”
When they got to the counter she was ready. “Chili cheese dog, rings, fried peach pie and a large tea.”
The lady behind the counter approved of her proficiency with a quick nod before she looked to Joe, who gave her his order, and added a fried apple pie because he knew she’d want a bite anyway.
They settled in a table, a pile of food between them. Not much talking happened for a few minutes until she sat back with a happy sigh.
“I don’t even know who invented fried pie. But God bless ’em.”
“You have a pie problem.” He grinned.
“I know. I should probably go to some twelve-step program. But then I’d have to give up pie. I can admit I’m powerless over it and all. That’s the easy part.”
“Why pie?”
“It’s Tate.” She paused, and he knew she was struggling with something. But in the end, Beth waved a hand. “She’s magic in the kitchen. She got me hooked. But the Sands makes a pretty mean pie and cobbler too. In a pinch.”
“There’s a story.”
She met his gaze, held it. “If you want me to share, you have to share too. That’s how it works.”
He sighed. “This isn’t the place.”
“Oh it’s never the place. Or the time. I’m beginning to get tired of it. You’re giving me a complex. Are you afraid you can’t trust me?”
“No. It’s not that. At all. I just…it’s complicated and I don’t want to talk about it. My dad is dealing with health problems. You’re making way more out of it than it warrants.”
She looked him over, clearly disappointed. And truth be told, he was pretty disappointed in himself for ducking her question. But he had so little time that was free of the mess with his father. Was it so wrong to want to keep that out while he had Beth all to himself?
The rest of their lunch went fine. She teased him here and there. Held on as they rode back to Petal. But there was a distance between them. Of his own design. Once it was there, he realized just how much she’d worked to fill it before.
The sun was setting by the time they rolled back into town. He pulled up at her place.
“Want to come in? There are some good movies on cable. I was going to watch one and eat popcorn. You can even go get your son to bring him over. I noticed he liked popcorn.”
He snorted a laugh. “That dog loves everything. Popcorn. Carpet lint. Whatever.” He paused. “Yeah. I’ll be back in a few.”
She smiled, rolling over.
“Mmm. You know how much I love that booty. But hot damn, this is my favorite side of you.”
She laughed. “Good to know. I’d love to go on a ride tomorrow afternoon. Want to come over to dinner on Sunday? It’s at Tate and Matt’s this weekend. She’s feeling a little better, but Polly Chase is making a turkey. For kicks, because she’s weird. But wonderful. Like freshly baked bread.”
“She sort of is. But scary. I just fixed her Lincoln last week. She’s good for business.”
Beth giggled. “I know I shouldn’t laugh. Polly is pretty amazing, actually. She’s good at so many things. But she is the world’s worst driver. It’s cute how all her sons scramble to find ways to give her rides so she won’t get behind the wheel. When they cart all the kids around, Edward drives the big van.”
“I don’t know about Sunday.” He was trying to spend at least one night a week with his parents. He stopped by daily as well, but dinner was a way to keep an eye on his dad, to see how this new treatment was working. And to watch his mother too. The stress was taking a toll on her.
She shrugged. “If you decide you can make it, come over. You know it’s not fancy or anything. Bring Buck with you or the kids will be sad.”
Buck barked under his breath.
“Like he’d have it any other way.”
“Bring your parents if you like.” The hesitation in her voice tore at him.
“I’ll see. If I can make it, I’ll see if they can too. I can’t promise, but I’ll try.”
She didn’t say anything else.
He pulled her close, nuzzling her neck until the tension in her spine lessened. He’d talk to her about it once this treatment worked. When they were on the other side of this mess.
Chapter Eleven
“I can’t believe you got me my very own helmet.”
The way she smiled up at him made him warm inside.
“Well, I mean. I had an extra one. I just wanted you to have one for when we went out on a ride. We’re not going to be able to do this for several months once it gets rainy and cold.”
“Yes. But you made it all customized. You’re adorable. Did you know that?”
“I can shoot an M16. I’m not adorable.”
She laughed, clearly delighted. “You totally are.” She snuggled up to him as they stood in line to get their food. “Denying it only makes you cuter. So there. Catch 22. I win. End of story.”
He kissed the top of her head, keeping her close.
“I’m so hungry.”
“Is that your way of telling me you aren’t sharing your rings?”
She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “Joe, who shares rings here? Get your own. I might let you have a bite of my fried peach pie. Maybe. You could get an apple one and we can share.”
“Please. You’re cutthroat when it comes to pie. I’m having a shake anyway.”
When they got to the counter she was ready. “Chili cheese dog, rings, fried peach pie and a large tea.”
The lady behind the counter approved of her proficiency with a quick nod before she looked to Joe, who gave her his order, and added a fried apple pie because he knew she’d want a bite anyway.
They settled in a table, a pile of food between them. Not much talking happened for a few minutes until she sat back with a happy sigh.
“I don’t even know who invented fried pie. But God bless ’em.”
“You have a pie problem.” He grinned.
“I know. I should probably go to some twelve-step program. But then I’d have to give up pie. I can admit I’m powerless over it and all. That’s the easy part.”
“Why pie?”
“It’s Tate.” She paused, and he knew she was struggling with something. But in the end, Beth waved a hand. “She’s magic in the kitchen. She got me hooked. But the Sands makes a pretty mean pie and cobbler too. In a pinch.”
“There’s a story.”
She met his gaze, held it. “If you want me to share, you have to share too. That’s how it works.”
He sighed. “This isn’t the place.”
“Oh it’s never the place. Or the time. I’m beginning to get tired of it. You’re giving me a complex. Are you afraid you can’t trust me?”
“No. It’s not that. At all. I just…it’s complicated and I don’t want to talk about it. My dad is dealing with health problems. You’re making way more out of it than it warrants.”
She looked him over, clearly disappointed. And truth be told, he was pretty disappointed in himself for ducking her question. But he had so little time that was free of the mess with his father. Was it so wrong to want to keep that out while he had Beth all to himself?
The rest of their lunch went fine. She teased him here and there. Held on as they rode back to Petal. But there was a distance between them. Of his own design. Once it was there, he realized just how much she’d worked to fill it before.
The sun was setting by the time they rolled back into town. He pulled up at her place.
“Want to come in? There are some good movies on cable. I was going to watch one and eat popcorn. You can even go get your son to bring him over. I noticed he liked popcorn.”
He snorted a laugh. “That dog loves everything. Popcorn. Carpet lint. Whatever.” He paused. “Yeah. I’ll be back in a few.”
