Chapter 56
One of the most devastating things about the infamous night of confronting Daren and his philandering ways was knowing the end of our relationship also meant saying goodbye to the Krauts.
At the time, I couldn’t fathom how I might stay close to the family of a man who hurt me so bad.
But I guess all I had to do was go and accidentally fall in love with his cousin.
“Was this a real invite, or am I going to be a shock that everyone has to just go with? Because you know your family doesn’t just go with things. And I don’t want you to get into a brawl and bloody up that nice shirt.”
Arthur told me about the dust-up he had with Daren while I was gone. We told each other a lot of things as we lay, wrapped in each other’s arms. The normally stoic postman got almost chatty once I told him I loved him.
“Although if you do get blood on your clothes, that is the one kind of laundry I know how to do. Because of menstruation.” I glance over at Arthur, where he’s silently watching me from the passenger seat and letting my mouth run. “Also, I promise not to bring up menstruation around your family. I know how scary tampons are to you big, tough men.”
Arthur’s beard twitches. “Don’t scare me none.”
“Hmm, really? So, if I asked you to go buy me a box . . .”
He shrugs. “I’d buy you a box. Plus, a box of doughnuts.”
“Hell, Arthur.” I gently slap his chest. “You’d better stop it before I fall even more in love with you.”
That gets his cheeks turning a ruddy color I adore, and for a moment, I forget about being nervous.
But then my eyes return to the Kraut house, and my muscles tense. A heavy hand lands on my thigh, offering a reassuring squeeze.
“Everyone wants you here,” he assures me.
And I believe him. Because he’s Arthur and he doesn’t have it in him to lie.
He would just grunt instead.
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
I meet him in front of the car and grab his hand. Because I love him and not because I’m scared.
The Krauts have never and will never scare me.
When we push through the front door, noise hits us even though the gathering is a room away. The sounds meld in an indiscernible mess as they pass through my hearing aid, and I plan to rely on my right ear for most of the night since this gathering will probably rival Genie’s for noisiness. Arthur takes the lead, and I let him, figuring it’s his family and he knows best how to handle them. In the kitchen, we find a full house—Sherman, Jensen, Fred, Marvin, Daren, and tucked in the corner with Stewart is a nervous-looking teenage girl. I wonder if this is her first time here with everyone. Guess it can be jarring.
“We’re here,” Arthur announces, and seven sets of eyes turn our way.
As the room goes quiet and they look their fill, Arthur tugs me against his chest, then wraps an arm around my shoulders. Claiming me in front of them all.
“Hey.” I wave. “I brought doughnuts.” Holding up the peace offering, I wait for the verdict.
“Are you two fuckers in love?” Fred asks, a mock frown on his face. “How am I gonna get my turn then? I’m next in line.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Arthur mutters low, but he’s right next to my good ear, so I understand him fine.
“The line begins and ends with Arthur. Accept your doughnut consolation prize before my mailman decides he’s gonna deliver his fist to your gut.” I shove the box in the eldest Kraut cousin’s chest, and he lets out a dramatic oof before giving me a grin.
“Fine, fine. Welcome back to the family.” He leans over and plants a loud kiss on my cheek before dodging Arthur’s swing.
And I try not to tear up at the casual show of affection.
“Robin! Meet my girlfriend, Cala.” Stewart drags the girl over, and she pushes a set of glasses up her nose before offering me a timid wave and a hello so quiet that I can’t hear it, only read the word on her mouth.
The Krauts will either eat this girl alive or adopt her like a bunch of bears befriending a baby deer.
“Hi, Cala. You might need to speak up a bit with me.” I turn my head to gesture at my hearing aid. Although she could use the practice for this bunch too.
“Oh, sorry!” Her cheeks color, but her voice rises a few notches. “Nice to meet you. Stewart told me a lot about you and your shop. I’ve never been in an airplane before.”
The hesitant curiosity in her voice has me leaning forward. “Do you want to go up? I can take you for a flight. Anytime.”
“Hey, what about me?” Stewart pouts.
I stare at the teenager, brows raised. Is he actually interested? “You’ve never asked.”
“I . . .” He trails off, looking thoughtful, and then a grin too charming for a sneaky seventeen-year-old to be allowed to have spreads across his face. “You’re right. Robin, could you take Cala and me flying sometime?”
Somehow, I manage to look and sound casual when I agree. Meanwhile, inside, I’m jumping up and down with excitement.
More people want to go in the plane with me!
Maybe I let Daren’s disinterest in flying color how I thought his family would respond to an invite. I should’ve given them all the option. Should’ve told them I love to fly and have people join me.
I need more practice in the open-and-honest department.
As if my thought of him called him into being, Daren appears through a break in the crowd, leaning against the kitchen wall, holding a beer, his eyes on us. In the brief glimpse I catch of his eyes, I spy something I doubt he wants me to see.
Pain.
Then, he shutters his expression and offers me a smile that looks more like a grimace.
I let out a sigh.
Seeing him hurt doesn’t bring me joy, like I thought it would all those months ago. Because as much as he pissed me off, a part of me is grateful to Daren. For bringing me to Green Valley, then screwing things up so I could discover a path to something—someone—better.
Although a normal breakup conversation would have been a less dramatic way to achieve a similar conclusion.
But . . . would it have?
I’m not sure I would have let myself think of Arthur as a romantic prospect, and he’s too loyal of a guy to pursue his cousin’s ex if the guy hadn’t betrayed me in a massive way. Technically, he didn’t even make a pass this way either. My need for revenge forced us together.
Without Daren royally screwing me over, I’m not sure Arthur and I would’ve found our way to each other.
Not that I plan on laying that all out for Daren or even thanking him. He doesn’t get a pass on his bad life choices.
But I don’t regret how things turned out.
Squeezing Arthur’s hand, I step out of his hold and tilt my head toward Daren. “I’m going to have a quick chat. That okay?”
Even though I don’t plan on letting him dictate my life choices, I want to be a good partner. One thing about Arthur’s desert of a love life before me, I’ll never have to worry about being jealous of exes. He doesn’t have the same luck, obviously, and I don’t want to stress our new relationship.
Arthur lifts my hand to kiss my knuckles and gives me a nod.
And a grunt.
God, I love his grunts. When he goes to drop my hand, I grab his, tug it to my mouth, and press my lips against his fingertips, the skin rough from guitar strings, lifting weights, and sorting mail.
“Back in a sec,” I promise, then stroll around the kitchen table and out to the back deck, where I saw Daren disappear.
I find him there, digging through a cooler of beer. It’s New Year’s Eve, and the evening is cold. I hug my flannel jacket closer. Okay, it’s my boyfriend’s jacket, and I temporarily stole it because I thought pretending to be Arthur would make this day easier to navigate.
“Hey,” I greet him.
Daren’s head pops up to stare at me with wide eyes, and then he ducks his chin, focusing on the beer selection. “Hey,” he says back.
Seeing him like this, deflated, I conclude, once and for all, I’m not interested in revenge anymore. I want all the Krauts to be happy. Even Daren.
So, instead of pointing out how he brought this on himself, I say, “For what it’s worth, I don’t hate you. I did, but not anymore. And I hope you find someone who loves you the way I love Arthur. And I hope you figure your shit out so you can treat them the way they deserve. Because if you don’t, I’ll help them egg your house.”
He huffs a strained laugh, still not meeting my eyes. But he extends his arm, offering me a can of my favorite beer.
“You not hating me is worth a lot,” Daren says. “But I’m not going to find another you.”
I shrug and crack the seal on the can. “Then, I suggest you don’t look for another me. We didn’t work.”
Before he can respond to that, the back door opens, and I turn, expecting to find Arthur has given us as much time as he’s willing.
But the man who comes out on the porch is a different Kraut, and the sight of him has my throat getting thick.
Jensen Kraut glances to his son, then down to me.
A smile, as wickedly charming as his son’s, spreads over his mouth, and he opens his arms. “Where’s my hello hug?”
Cautiously, I approach the big man, then let his beefy arms wrap me up tight. I barely manage to suppress tears.
“Glad you and Arthur could make it,” he says. “Come on. I need you as a taste tester.”
And with an arm around my shoulders, Jensen leads me away from his son and back to the crowded kitchen.
The rest of the evening is filled with warmth, laughter, and ruthless teasing. By the time we finish eating and settle around a bonfire in the backyard, I’m shocked not a single brawl has broken out. The Krauts are almost a civil bunch this gathering. Maybe they’re putting on a show for Cala. I’ll have to warn her.
Even though there’s plenty of chairs, I end up sprawled in Arthur’s lap. He’s basically a seat warmer, and the chill of the night can’t reach me with his arms holding me close.
“Oh no. It’s quarter to ten!” Marvin smirks at my boyfriend. “Better get a move on before you turn into a boring pumpkin.”
The group chuckles, but Arthur makes no effort to get up.
“We’ll stay,” he announces.
Everyone sits in silence for a beat, and then there’s cheering and laughter and, “Can you believe it?” Fred passes out another round to celebrate Arthur finally breaking his bedtime.
“You sure you want to stay?” I ask him, meeting Arthur’s eyes and watching how the fire reflects in them. “After ten, it’s all just winding down. Don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting time.”
He holds my gaze, his large palm rising to cup the back of my neck, and he pulls my forehead in to rest against his.
“No time with you is a waste. When I’m with you, I’m living.”