Rusty Nailed
Page 61

“Whoa, what does that mean?”
“I don’t know yet. We just talked about it for the first time today and I don’t know all the details.” I filled him in on the details I did know: the six months she’d be gone, what I’d likely be doing in her absence.
We settled across from each other with our dinners.
“Well, it’s obviously a tremendous opportunity for you. Congratulations,” he said.
I couldn’t figure out what he wasn’t saying.
“Thanks?” I said, making it a question.
“It’s a huge deal. I’m proud of you,” he answered, stabbing at his Salisbury steak. He didn’t look up at me.
“What’s on your mind, Simon?”
“It’s just—you’ve been working so hard. And so much. I thought things were going to slow down a bit for you now.”
He only said everything I’d been thinking, but it bothered me to hear someone else say it. I balled up my napkin in my fist. “I can’t turn down a huge opportunity like this. No one gets a chance like this at my age. And I love my job—how could I ever say no?” I chewed my potpie angrily. “And as far as us not seeing each other, that’s kind of how we’ve always been, right? We’re used to that. I mean, we used to be used to that—you used to be gone more often than you weren’t,” I said pointedly.
“I’m home now, though,” he said back, just as pointedly.
I wanted to scream, “But no one asked you to do that!” And then I was horrified that I’d even think such a thought. Who the hell complains about that when a boyfriend’s as incredible as Simon? Case in point: the tool belt and the multiple orgasms I just enjoyed not thirty minutes ago.
But I said nothing about that. No, I went right ahead and opened up another jar of pickles. “Plus the money is going to be incredible.”
“We’ve got plenty of mon—”
“You’ve got plenty of money—not me. There’s a difference.” I pointed my fork at him. “Speaking of which, we need to talk about the car situation out there, while you don’t have your hands in my panties.”
“What’s wrong with the car? Don’t you like it?” he asked, truly not getting it.
“I love the car. How could I not? But you can’t just buy me a car.”
“I think I just did.”
“I know, and it’s incredibly sweet. And incredibly kind. And incredibly expensive, and I incredibly don’t need it,” I said, standing up to throw away my potpie.
“Caroline, come on. You loved driving Jillian’s car. Don’t tell me you didn’t.”
“This isn’t about whether I love the car, Simon. It’s about you buying me a car.”
“Dammit, I wish I’d been outside when you pulled up. I had this whole thing planned out, and I think if you’d—”
“Simon, there’s a brand new-car in the driveway with a red bow on it! I think I see what you were trying to do. And it’s incredibly sweet, but it’s just too much!” I sat back in my chair, at a loss. Was I out of line here?
“I don’t get it.” He sighed, standing up and throwing his dinner into the trash can. As he turned back to me, I saw total confusion in his eyes. “When I was thirteen, my dad bought my mom a new car. She came home from the grocery store one day, and bam—there it was. Red bow and everything. And she said all the same things you’re saying. It’s too much, you shouldn’t have done this—everything. And my dad kissed her, handed her the keys, and said, ‘Let’s go for a drive.’ And that was it. She gave in.” He leaned against a sawhorse, dragging his hands through his hair. “You know why? Because she knew how much it meant to him. Everything he did was to make her happy.” His voice deepened toward the end, sounding rough and a little choppy.
His blue eyes were huge, and I could see his jaw clenching. He cleared his throat. Twice. Then he swallowed hard. Shit.
“So keep the car, don’t keep the car, whatever. I just wanted to do something nice for you, because I could.” His voice wobbled a bit, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I was in front of him, pulling him close and wrapping his strong arms around me. I held him tight. A minute later, I felt him hang on. Sweet boy.
What the hell was wrong with me? Picking a fight with my favorite person on the entire planet.
I pulled away just a smidge, placing my hands on either side of his face. I kissed one cheek, then the other, then his eyelids. My lips came away just the tiniest bit damp. I cringed inside, but all he saw was my smile.
I backed away and started pulling on my jacket. “You’re leaving?” he asked.
“Yep, and you are too,” I said, handing him his coat. “Let’s go for a drive.”
There is nothing like a Wallbanger grin. It gets me every time.
Just before we left, I heard the telltale rattle of glass. Racing, Simon beat me to the dining room and snatched up Clive, who was halfway through the rusty old casement window again. I checked Clive over, then slammed the window shut.
“I’ll keep the car if you fix that damn window,” I said, pointing my finger at Simon. He nodded and I turned my finger on Clive. “And if you do that again, you go on catnip detox. Permanently.” He rolled his eyes at me.
Then Simon and I went out for a joyride in my new effing convertible, which I admit, was totally sweet. The things you do for love.
• • •
It was late, well after three in the morning. We’d been lying in the dark talking for what seemed like hours. It was as if once I started, I couldn’t stop telling him everything.
“And now this thing at work—I mean, how in the world could I ever say no to this? It’s such a great thing. If I had to do this on my own, do you have any idea how long it would take to try and build my own business? It’s not enough to just be a great designer; there are very talented people who try to go it alone all the time, and it just doesn’t work for whatever reason.”
He nodded, rolling over to be closer to me as I talked it out. It helped.
“But now, to be offered the chance to basically help run things? Permanently? It feels amazing. That Jillian has that kind of faith in me, you can’t know what that feels like. It’s a lot more work, sure, but I can do it. I’d have to be crazy not to, right?”
He just showed me his teeth. He knew better than to answer that one.