Chapter 27
Lauralee
“Are we almost there?” I ask, whining to playfully taunt him.
Baylor shoots me a look, his eyes dancing before a laugh bursts out.
“I stopped and got you beef jerky, strawberry candies, and a large blue raspberry ICEE that’s stained your lips.
” I flip down the visor in the car he rented to see if my lips really are stained blue.
I playfully punch him in the arm because they aren’t, but my tongue sure is.
“We’ve stopped twice for bathroom breaks, and you polished off a six-piece chicken nugget meal.
What can I do to make this drive less painful for you? ”
“Ice cream sounds good.”
His head bounces forward on his neck. “I don’t know where you put it.”
I pop my shoulders. “I’ve been burning calories like nobody’s business because of you.
” I grin, twisting my lips to one side. Last night was exhilarating and exhausting in the best of ways.
My muscles ached from the deliciousness of him taking me twice and then returning the favor once more for good luck.
That’s a th ing, right? Sex for good luck.
“Fair point. We did make the most of our wedding night.” His eyes return to the road, and he says, “Next stop I see that has ice cream, you got it, baby.”
I hold up the convenience store bag stored at my feet. “For the record, I’ve only snacked on the candies. I haven’t even opened the jerky yet. I got it just in case.”
“Just in case of what?”
“We get stranded and have to survive in the woods for days before being rescued.”
Chuckling, he says, “I don’t think it’s possible to get lost or stranded in the woods between Manhattan and the Hamptons.”
“We were raised in Texas. We come prepared. Have you been gone so long that you forgot your roots, Baylor?”
The silence draws my gaze to him as a myriad of emotions plays through his eyes as he glares ahead. Now I feel bad. He must feel me staring because he looks over and asks, “What?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“My feelings are fine.” His words are curt, and though it’s invisible, I see that mask I thought he left far behind our relationship slip back on.
“Sounds like it,” I snark even when I know better. I reach over and rub his leg. “I really didn’t mean anything by it. It just came out.”
“It came out because you believe that. You believe that I’m more New York now than Peachtree Pass.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted? You left and never came back. I would think you would be proud of the direction of your life. Maybe I’m wrong for jumping to conclusions.” Just as I pull my hand away, he captures it and brings it back to his lap .
“You’re not wrong. It’s no secret that Tagger and I had big plans, and those plans panned out.” He glances at me. “That doesn’t mean that our hometown didn’t shape who I am as a man or isn’t still part of me.”
Leaning my head back and angling my body, I face him. “You glide seamlessly between the two worlds, but eventually, you’ll have to choose one.”
“Why?”
“I’m there, Baylor.” I don’t know why I say it.
The thing that I tried so hard to repress, to never pressure him into deciding.
Lifting my head, I stare down at the rings on my finger.
I foolishly forgot that this isn’t real.
We aren’t. We said one night, and I’m dragging it into the next day.
I’m only supposed to play the part in the Hamptons.
Pretending to be in love with him when I really am.
I face forward again, and add, “Forget I said that.”
“Lauralee, don’t do that. Don’t close down on me.”
And as timing would have it . . .
I’m already closed off. “Don’t miss the stop,” I say, pointing at the small gas station coming up on my side of the road.
He pulls over and drives across the gravel parking lot to a spot in the front.
As soon as he shifts into park, he says, “I know you’re there.
I think about it every fucking day of my life, wishing you were here or I was there so we would be together.
I don’t have an answer that will feel satisfactory to you when you already think I’m doing this on purpose. ”
“I don’t. I don’t think you don’t want to be with me.
I think you feel caught between your career and .
. .” I don’t want to say it. It sounds childish, though it’s true.
“I won’t make demands of you.” A humorless laugh escapes me.
“I can’t anyway. You don’t work that way.
Neither do I. It’s one of the few things we have in common. ”
“We have more than that in common.”
“Like?”
His pause only reaffirms my statement.
But then he says, “We both love strawberries, and Texas sunrises rival the sunsets for best in show, but we’d choose the early morning spectacular every time.
” I catch my breath, afraid to make a noise in fear the mask that has slipped again will work its way back around his heart.
“When I look at you from the long side of the picnic bench, I see how much you care about me. I care about you more than you can imagine. You’re not alone in feeling you’ve found something special, something most people will never experience. ”
Is it fair to make him continue like this? Probably not, but I gobble it up heart and soul and swallow it down, savoring every word he says. “Which is?”
He pauses, his fingers still wrapped around the steering wheel and his knuckles whitening. As if it pains him to admit, he replies, “True love.”
“Well,” I start, the growing anxiety vanishing in an instant. “I have no comeback because I can’t argue with that.” I stretch forward, and say, “Does anyone else know what a romantic you are?”
“No. I’ve worked hard to conceal it, but you just bring it out in me.” When he grins, the world feels right again. I do just from seeing it.
Laying down my emotional weapons, I say, “I’m thinking one of those chocolate-dipped ice cream pops sounds good.”
He nods in silent understanding. I like that we both know when the war is over and peace is restored. “You want to go in with me or wait here?”
“I’ll wait here.”
“I’ll be quick.” Opening the door, he steps out, but before he closes the door, he makes sure to lock it. Protected and safe. Always with him.
Watching him walk away is quite the view, too. He gives fantastic backside, even better when he’s naked. My insides shiver in giddiness that he’s mine. Even if only for the time being.
I sit back, adjusting the seat belt from scraping my neck when Baylor’s phone lights up on the console. Tagger texts: Four rims and a new steering wheel showed up today. You can order all the parts you want. You’re still losing this bet, fucker.
Having no idea what he’s talking about, I glance up to see Baylor at the register inside. He waves the ice cream like he struck gold. Laughing, I wave back.
Another text pops up, causing my gaze to deviate back to the lighted screen: Pris said she thinks Lauralee is seeing someone. Is it you? Did you finally score to win the bet?
I read that again.
And then once more until Baylor exits the store and walks to the driver’s side of the vehicle. Bending down, he taps the glass and then points at the lock, which is fastened.
My gaze moves back to his phone just before the screen goes dark again. “ Did you finally score to win the bet?” loops in my head.
A tap on the glass brings me back to him . . . Am I just a bet? He did this for a car? I know what car he wagered, too. The only one that would be worth sacrificing me for in return—the 911. His mom’s car.
God, I’m such a fool for falling for him.
I feel sick.
“Open the door, Lauralee. The ice cream is melting.”
Glancing over, I say , “I don’t want it.”
His brows buckle together in the middle. “Why not?”
Wrapping my arms over my stomach, I try to keep myself from vomiting. He gets the hint I wasn’t intending and walks to the trash can outside the door to toss it. I push the button to unlock the door and then angle away from him toward my window.
When he gets in, he rubs my shoulder. “Feeling carsick?”
“Yeah,” I reply, deciding it’s easier to go with that until I can process what I’ve discovered. A bet. Just thinking about it brings me closer to tears.
“Do you want to sit here a bit longer or go for a short walk to get fresh air? We’re not far from the house. Less than an hour if you want me to drive to get there sooner. Tell me what you want to do.”
His voice is distancing as I fade into my thoughts. I summon the strength to reply, “Just drive.”
“Sorry you’re not feeling well.”
I roll my eyes, and snap, “I bet.”
“What?”
I don’t bother repeating myself. I need to figure out my next step.
Trapped in the Hamptons at his boss’s house isn’t ideal, but neither is paying for a car to take me back to the city.
Five hours . . . that would be a month’s worth of rent.
I sigh, realizing I’m going to be stuck, so I need to make a plan to get through the weekend. Anger is going to be my best ally.
Meeting his boss and his wife wasn’t as painful as I expected, and they were over the moon to find out we got married. With those formalities out of the way, we settle in upstairs in one of the eight bedrooms they chose for us .
It’s beautiful in buttery yellow and white with pale blue accents. More formal than I’m used to. This would get so dirty back home after a long day out on those dusty roads and ranches.
I finish touching up my makeup and brushing my hair in the bathroom, which I locked him out of so I could be alone.
I manage to zip up the white dress I chose for the party to go along with the Fourth of July theme, and because when I saw it yesterday as a wedding option, I knew it was better suited for today.
And since he was paying . . . I just wish I had known about this bet then. I would have kept everything.