Chapter 41
The house I pull up to is swanky as hell. My drive to Lexington was uneventful, and I made good time. Now though, I’m held up by a gate that requires me to type in a key code. My mom texted the code to me before I left, but I thought it would be for an apartment building or something.
This is what happens when I don’t stalk an address on Google beforehand. I end up gaping at the place like a peasant brought to the castle.
As I pull up the long drive, a mansion of a house appears over the hill.
“Well, Mom,” I murmur to my steering wheel, “you’ve done well for yourself this time.”
That’s the thing with Nicole Dunn and her many loves. I never know what they’re going to be like. The men have come from all walks of life. One year, she’ll fall for a lawyer, the next for a struggling musician. She’s not interested in their financial status, but more in the way they make her feel.
When that honeymoon glow eventually wears off, her beau will do something she deems as unforgivable, and she’ll move on.
That’s a skill I never thought I’d appreciate learning from her until I found out the kind of man Daren was.
Because of Mom, I know how to move on.
Will I be able to move on from Arthur?
I shrug the thought away.
This is a hot fling, not a yearslong relationship. If I could handle the ending with Daren, then I can certainly manage letting Arthur go.
Because I’ll have to. The guy has his sights set on a soulmate that isn’t me.
Some woman who gives him sparkly butterflies when they kiss. A woman who won’t cause a major rift in his family.
When the glow wears off Arthur and me, we’ll part ways, and the Kraut family will heal from the wound that is Robin Dunn. Someday, I’ll only be an uncomfortable memory to all of them. Not even in Green Valley anymore because why would I stay when Thomas is going to take over the shop I want?
Spying my mom standing outside the gigantic front door, I shove away the thoughts that are gloomier than they should be and clutch at the joy of seeing her. The smile I want to wear comes easier, especially when I climb out of my car and get a big hug.
“Look at this,” I say into her Chanel-scented shoulder. “Did you get a raise at work?”
“Ha-ha. My daughter, everyone. The comedian!” She steps back to clutch my shoulders, beaming down at me. “I’m glad you decided to come.”
I shrug. “It’s been a while.” Since before Daren and I split. A few weeks before the weekend when I lied to him about visiting my mom because, apparently, these trips were the perfect time to get his dick sucked by Trinity.
I ready myself for the slam of pain at the thought. But there’s nothing more than a mild, dull twinge. The same sensation I feel when I remember friends I used to have and lost touch with. Big parts of my life that are over.
But not necessarily parts I want to go back to.
“Too long,” she agrees. “Are you hungry? Jeremiah has a personal chef. But don’t worry; she’s not pretentious or anything. Although she might have gone a little light-headed when I told her your favorite food was frozen pizza.”
“Mom.” I drag out her name in a petulant whine because I know she loves to pretend I’m still a moody teenager. “It’s not my favorite. It’s just the food I consume most often.”
Mom smirks and slips an arm around my shoulders, hugging me tight to her side. “Well, you’ll have to put up with fresh brick-oven pizza for Melissa’s sake.”
We enter the house, stepping into a literal foyer. Like, there is no other purpose to this room than to be the first fancy thing you see upon passing through the front doors.
“Are you dating a prince?” I ask. “I told you I don’t want any royal nonsense. They have too many rules and too much inbreeding.”
Mom laughs, the sound airy and beautiful, just like her.
Most people assume we’re sisters. She’s always taken care of her appearance like a hobby. Brown hair the same color as mine sits in perfectly smooth waves without a touch of gray, and I honestly don’t know if she’s had to start dyeing it yet. I probably never will know. Her skin is clear and smooth, a pale shade because she makes sure to avoid sun exposure with ridiculously wide-brimmed hats. She’s adamant that sun exposure causes premature wrinkles. When she saw my tan lines after basic training—farmer’s tan, dialed up to ten—she sent me a massive jug of SPF 100. My platoon thought it was hilarious and gave me shit about it for weeks.
She always has a standing appointment at a spa—a habit born long before her current richie-rich boyfriend came into her life. Mom might crave falling in love and tying herself to someone, but there’s another side to her personality that requires her own money. Earning a nice paycheck gives her the independence to cut and run when needed. I can’t remember if she’s always been this way or if the men in her life hurt her too many times and she finally built herself the only kind of shield that allowed her to keep chasing love.
“He’s not a prince. Or a duke. Or a viscount. Or any other nobility as far as I know. Jeremiah works in tech. He made some good investments, and . . .” Mom trails off as her hand waves around the massive house.
The rug beneath our feet is so plush that I can’t hear my footsteps.
“You’re dating a nerd? Nice. Don’t think you’ve done that before.”
If there is a running strain of similarity between her exes, it’s that they’ve all got an air of suave confidence. Always the first to flirt with her. Charismatic and charming.
Kind of like Daren.
Nothing like Arthur.
“He really is,” Mom sighs, wearing a gooey smile. “You should see his computer setup. I don’t know how he can pay attention to so many screens at once. And there’s a home theater on the floor below us with every gaming system you could imagine. We spend hours in there some days.”
I stumble as we step through a doorway with no tripping hazards. “You play video games?”
If someone were to ask me, I would’ve bet good money she’d never held a gaming controller in her life.
“Oh God, no.” Mom laughs and waves a manicured hand at me, dismissing the idea. “I just like the cushy seats. He plays, and I knit.”
The surprises keep coming. “You’re knitting again?”
One of her exes said she looked like a grandma when she did. Something about the comment must have gotten to her because even after she broke up with him, she didn’t take her needles out again as far as I knew.
“I am. Jeremiah keeps asking for sweaters. And fingerless gloves. He says his hands get cold when he works at the computer for too long.”
By the looks of this place, the guy could buy his own sweater-making factory. No need for homemade goods.
I’m intrigued.
“Next time I come to town, I’ll make sure it’s when he’s here,” I offer. “So I can meet him.” I want to check out this man who has my mother knitting again.
But despite her new beau not sounding like a total stuck-up fancy pants, as his house would suggest, I’m ready to move on from romantic-life discussions. For now, I just want to hang out with my mother and forget there are relationships in the world that have inevitable endings.
Mom guides me into a bright kitchen, where a young woman with an eager smile greets us. Mom introduces me to Melissa. The chef has on casual clothes and an apron and can somehow hold a conversation while dicing vegetables with a wicked-sharp-looking knife.
“I set up a charcuterie for you two in the sunroom. And there’s a pitcher of sweet tea. Let me know if y’all want anything specific for dinner. If not, I’ll keep on with my original plan.”
“I leave the decision up to the master.” I hold my hands up in surrender, earning a chuckle in response.
“Thank you, Mel. Whatever you have in mind will be perfect. Robin doesn’t have any food allergies.”
We leave the chef to her work, and I continue to try not to gape at the size of the house as Mom leads me to a glass-enclosed porch that gazes out to rolling hills of grass and forest.
“Private chef. Mansion. Acres of land.” I wave toward the kingdom Jeremiah lives on. “No wonder you wanted me to come visit. You knew I’d never leave.”
There’s a hopeful glimmer in her eye that has me rolling mine. Shouldn’t have made that joke.
“I was kidding,” I hurry to add. “You know I love you. But it wouldn’t work.”
When we’re under the same roof for too long, my mom and I start picking at each other and bickering. There’s just something about our personalities that makes us clash.
Maybe we’re both too stubborn.
“I’m not going to push you...but keep in mind how big this house is.” She spreads her arms wide, as if to demonstrate. “You could go days without seeing me.”
“Is that your plan? Move me in without bothering to tell your new man because he probably wouldn’t realize I was here anyway?”
“Jeremiah would love to have you.” Mom settles on a cushioned lounge chair with a contented sigh. “I really think you two will get along.”
“We’ll see.” I’m not getting my hopes up. I’ve learned to be civil toward the guys Mom dates, but they rarely inspire me to be nice.
“And,” she continues, a touch of hesitation in her voice, “well, I thought with the Daren fiasco that you might want to get out of Green Valley.”
I try not to grimace, focusing on filling my plate with fruits and cheeses from the board Melissa left us instead. A fed Robin is a happy Robin.
“Breaking up doesn’t have to mean relocating.” The moment the words are out, in a harder tone than I meant, I wish I could take them back. Especially when Mom drops her eyes to her lap.
Whether I meant to or not, the reminder of her past technique for moving on from a man has solidified a tension born from resentment between us.
“Of course, you don’t have to leave Green Valley, if you like it,” she says, her voice careful. “It’s only that I thought you moved there for him.”
“I didn’t,” I say too fast. At her scrutinizing gaze, I amend, “Not only for him. If Green Valley Aviation wasn’t there, I wouldn’t have agreed to go.”
Back when Daren and I had only been together for a year, he’d finished his degree and was planning on moving back to his hometown. He wanted me to move with him. But I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t let a man dictate my life. As a compromise, I decided to visit with him over a holiday.
And I fell in love.
With Green Valley.
And with the Krauts.
I loved the intimate feel of the town and the boisterous gathering of all those men. They reminded me of a camaraderie I missed with some of my platoon from the military.
After that trip, and after speaking to Malcolm about working at the shop and getting a job offer, I told Daren yes.
I moved because of him, but not for him.
“Trust me, Mom. If I want to go, I will.” I pop a juicy grape in my mouth and follow it with a slice of sharp cheddar, not bothering to stifle my groan at the flavor.
Wow, rich-people cheese is delicious.
After I swallow, I add, “But I’m not about to go when I’ve still got my job.”
And not when I still have Arthur, I add silently. Thoughts of packing up and leaving town, leaving him, hurt somewhere deep in my chest.
But I don’t examine the feeling too closely because I’m worried what it might mean.
As if she can peer into my mind, my mother leans forward, a teasing smile on her mouth.
“And how’s living with Arthur going? He’s a nice man from what I remember. You two getting...close?”
“Mom, please. Let’s change the topic. No talking about men. Not your men. Not my men. No men.”
“Your men? You have multiple?” Her smile turns delighted.
I snort. “Of course. Why choose? There’s the man who massages my feet, the man who hand-feeds me, the one who brushes my hair, and of course the guy who can’t wait to get his head between my legs.” I scoop more cheese onto my plate before relaxing back on my own lounge chair.
Mom barks out a loud laugh, sounding like a wheezing donkey. That noise is the least elegant thing about her. I love her laugh, grinning at the familiar sound.
She catches her breath, twinkle in her eye. “Hmm. I think I need to visit Green Valley.”