Chapter 17 #2
When Bobby’s sister turned thirteen, he would’ve been twenty, a man who was overprotective of his sis, from how he speaks about her.
Then what did that say about Ty? He was a man at twenty-two and twenty-three, respectively, when I overdosed and went for a joyride with a guy his age.
“What other questions do you have?”
“That’s it.”
He moves his hand from my knee to my thigh. His palm is warm and heavy. Awareness grabs my insides. My body heats. He caresses my skin over my dress, his fingers dancing closer to my inner thigh.
I do this clear-throat-small-cough thing and cross my legs. His chuckle fills the cabin. Bobby tips his head at the small brown bag on the seat between us.
“Eat.”
I’m not hungry, but I eat because he commands it. I’m surprised my brain isn’t revolting, and I’m not telling Bobby to take his commands and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.
I’m finding out he’s full of surprises, and discovering new things about me when I’m with him. I also eat because it was thoughtful of him to call ahead and place an order for my favorite iced drink and pastries—an éclair and a cookie with pink frosting.
“All good?” He shoots me a smile that blinds me.
“Yes, thank you. Want some?” I hold up the éclair.
“Nah, babe. All yours.”
“You don’t like sweets?”
“Oh, I like sweets. Your pussy juices will be sweet on my tongue when I eat you out later.” He jerks his head at my half-eaten éclair and the pink cookie poking from the brown bag. “Eat up, buttercup.”
My face flames. I finish my éclair and cookie in silence. Bobby’s arm slides under my hair, and he pulls me close with his hand on my shoulder. I scoot closer to his heat. With one hand on the steering wheel, he massages my shoulder, then my nape, and hums a tune.
I don’t recognize it. “It’s beautiful.”
“Miss You Like Crazy. Natalie Cole. My mom’s favorite song. She played it when she longed for the man she couldn’t be with.”
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
“He’s”—I clear my throat—“he’s gone?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m sorry, Bobby.”
“Me too.”
We pass a large sign that says Welcome to Cambridge.
Large houses are set back from the road, and there are endless fields of wheat. The sky is clear without a cloud in sight. I lean forward, but not enough that Bobby’s hand falls from the back of my neck. I stare at the rolling hills and the stretch of winding road.
“Beautiful, right?”
I like the happiness in his voice more than the sadness from when he brought up his parents.
“It is.” I lean back with a smile. “Would you ever live out here?” I sweep out my arm at the view.
“I’d miss the city.”
“What do you like about Alexandria?”
“Anonymity. Everyone knows about everyone’s business in small towns. They’re a minefield for gossip and hard feelings. It isn’t easy to get away from that. In a big city, no one cares. They’re too busy dealing with big-city problems like making enough to afford big-city living.”
“Is this from experience?”
“Something like that.” He tightens his hold on my neck. “What about you? If you had to choose, would you move back to Montgomery?”
I shrug. “Big cities are nice. So is Dumas. To be honest, I’m not sure.”
He squeezes my neck, then lets go. “And that’s okay. You have your whole life in front of you. Why settle?”
Yes, why settle? Except my chest hurts when I think about being far away from Bobby, with the world as my playground, while he’s settling down in Alexandria with a beautiful wife and a family.
“You see your father, or does he only call you from prison?”
“My earliest memory of him was when I was ten,” I admit. “The prison my dad’s at is in Ravenna, and that was a long drive for my mom. Her car wasn’t reliable, so . . .” I shrug. “We saw him once a month.” Then a new SUV appeared in the driveway, and we saw Dad once a week.
Back then, I didn’t understand what a dangerous and important man my father was. Mom said work gave her a bonus for doing a great job, and she used the money as a down payment for the SUV. That’s what I overheard her telling Ty.
“And now?”
Bobby glances out his window. We’re passing by Delridge’s town center. His lips quirk at the corner. Is he recalling our time there, visiting the shops and Sweet Creations Two? I sure am. I lean my head on his shoulder. He drops his gaze to me. His smile widens.
“I try to see him every other week when I’m in school. I see him more often during breaks.”
“Does your brother go with?”
“Separate. It’s a longer drive for him from Montgomery than me from Dumas, and he has a busier life between running his tattoo business and taking on shifts at Red Dahlia.”
“Do you wish you saw him more?”
“I have brunch with him and his friends every other Sunday. That’s enough.”
“Because he’s persistent and likes to bring up your shortcomings?”
I evade his question using his line. “Something like that.”
Bobby laughs. “Nice, Ever. Very nice, sweetness.”
I straighten my spine and smile. I love making Bobby laugh.
For the rest of our drive to Bryne, we’re quiet, each in our own thoughts. When we finally pull up to the farmers market, I know I made the right decision.
There isn’t anyone mine or Bobby’s age. Everyone looks to be closer to my mom’s, were she alive.
“Wait for me to get your door.”
I do as Bobby asks. He gets out, and not in a hurry, as if he wants to prolong our time together, Bobby walks over and opens my door. Before I can hop out, he cinches his hands on my waist and lifts me out of the truck.
Bobby sets me on my feet, but not before he dips his head, lingers on my pulse point, and smooths his mouth over my skin. He inhales. “Fuck, you smell good enough to eat.”
The words that come out of my mouth next are scandalous, and my face heats. “Eat me out later? Like you promised?” I clamp my hand over my mouth.
There’s low laughter from him. “Looking forward to it,” he says in this sexy rumble that has my insides quivering and heat pooling between my thighs.
He takes my hand and shuts the truck door, and we proceed to walk around the stalls set up in a huge parking lot with massive screens. I must be staring. Bobby angles his head and says next to my ear, “Drive-in movie theatre.”
“They exist?”
“This is the only one in the state.”
“Wow.”
“This will be our next destination.” He stares at the screens with a contemplative expression. “We’ll make out in the truck. You can hold on tight to me when there’s a jump scare. Or bawl your eyes out on my shoulder at the point in the movie when all seems lost.”
This guy . . . Smiling, I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have thought you were into movies.”
“I am.” He tips his chin at the screens. “Yes to seeing a movie with me, sweetness?”
My insides melt. I can vividly see us making out in his truck as a movie plays in front of us. Can see myself hanging on tight to him during a scary scene and crying on his shoulder at the part when all hope is lost.
“Yes, I would love to see a movie here with you.”
His face softens. His eyes shine. “Thank you, sweetness.”
“For what?”
“For making me a happy man.”