Chapter 10 #2
My teeth clenched as I glared at his too-perfect profile, his stupid dimples letting me know he was enjoying every second of this. “You visit your family all the time without me, this shouldn’t be any different. Besides, we rarely see your family at this.”
I almost gave in to the urge to punch him when he looked at me that time.
There was honestly no reason for any man to look that good with one side of his face scrunched up.
And given the fact Gray made that face when he thought I was being ridiculous or was worried about my next reaction, he made it a lot.
“What?” I ground out when he remained silent.
“I might’ve told Hunter I was stopping by for lunch.”
My eyebrows lifted at the news. Gray had four cousins in the tiny town we were heading toward, not that I’d met all of them or their wives yet.
But even though Hunter was one of the ones I’d met during my many, many forced visits over the years, we’d never stopped by for lunch, and I really didn’t feel like this lunch was something I should be present for.
“You told him you were stopping by. Not me.”
“He probably assumed that included you since you always come to this with me.”
“You don’t know that,” I argued.
A gentle smile—my smile—flashed across his face. “Peach, it’s fine.”
“I hate that nickname.”
“You love it.”
“I really don’t.”
“Snookems is still up for grabs,” he offered with a mischievous grin, as if he knew he was pushing every one of my buttons, and was thoroughly enjoying it.
And, as always, I’d played right into it.
Frustration barreled through me as I fought the urge to sock him in the same shoulder he’d taken a bullet for me. “You’re a child.”
“Last I checked . . .” His head slanted in obvious denial.
An aggravated sound left me as I sank back into my seat, forcing a laugh from him that filled the truck and made the following silence even more apparent.
Like before, the silence was uncomfortable and charged as long minutes and miles passed before Gray hesitantly asked, “Do you really hate this?”
“The trips?” I clarified. At his answering hum, I admitted, “No, Gray, I don’t hate the actual trips.
But this isn’t about that. It’s that I shouldn’t go, because then you hardly see your family, and these events revolve around them.
It’s also about how much I hate that it’s a peach thing because I hate that you call me Princess Peach. ”
“These events are my family,” he agreed, his stare firmly on the road. When he continued, his voice was soft. “Which is why I’ve always wanted you there.”
My head snapped to the side, my eyes wide with surprise as that traitorous fluttering started in my stomach all over again. My lips parted, but I had no idea what I would’ve said, if I could’ve spoken at all.
Denied what he was saying? Asked for clarification before I could stupidly start obsessing over and overanalyzing it myself? Remind him I’d only seen a select few of his absurdly attractive family during all the times he’d supposedly “wanted me there” because of them?
Instead, I just studied him as doubt and longing fought for dominance inside me before the words, “And if I hated the trips?” tumbled from me.
Gray quickly glanced my way, taking in my face for longer than was probably safe, before focusing on the road.
Just when I thought he wouldn’t respond, he mumbled, “I’d still want you there.”
“Why?”
A stilted breath left him as he rested one of his elbows against the door and dragged a hand through his hair. “You say that like it’s hard to believe.”
“It is,” I said without hesitation as unwelcome memories from too many of these trips burst through my thoughts like some disturbing kaleidoscope.
Whether it was for the kind of events like we were headed to now, or just a random day trip with me, Gray had never taken anyone home, but he’d taken numbers.
Worse than that, though, were the women who’d practically turned feral around him, like he was a prize to be won, if they hadn’t won it already.
All while I’d been right by his side.
“Not that most of them seem to mind, but I doubt I help your chances of picking up the women you hit on, so why would you willingly want me anywhere with you?”
His jaw shifted irritably, but when he finally spoke minutes later, his voice was calm and controlled. “The last thing I have any interest in is picking up other women.” The tightening of his hand on the steering wheel was the only slip in his otherwise composed mask.
I noted that slip and his claim that every part of me wanted to believe . . .
I just didn’t know how to let myself.
Before I could spiral over another statement that thrilled and confused me, I forced my stare out the overcast window, focusing on nothing but the fields of corn and tall grass we passed until we were pulling off the freeway.
Despite how much I hated that Gray tricked me into these trips multiple times each year, I loved this town that truly gave Huntley a run for its money.
While Huntley was probably what people envisioned when they thought of small-town Texas—stunning, quaint, and bustling with incredibly kind people who seemed to know everyone—the town of Amber looked like it’d been taken from a movie set with how picturesque and idyllic it was.
They only had one traffic light, and whenever we stopped in on non-festival weekends, every single person stared at me and quietly gossiped like I was an anomaly in their town.
If anyone had described it to me, I would’ve been sure I’d be uncomfortable with that much attention on me, but I adored it.
Between this place and Huntley, I was starting to think I was more of a small-town girl than I’d ever considered.
Not that I loved this.
I drew in a steadying breath as Gray carefully wove through the insane amount of people heading toward downtown Amber for their weekend-long spring festival—the Peach Blossom Fest.
One of two festivals the town held, both of which brought in so many people and so much money for the town. The first was always held in early spring, right around the time the trees bloomed in the massive peach orchard that took up about eighty percent of Amber.
An orchard that was owned and run by two of Gray’s cousins.
“These events are my family. Which is why I’ve always wanted you there.”
I forced away Gray’s earlier words as we inched our way through the town because of the crowd, making my skin crawl as I fought back the restlessness that always accompanied large groups of people.
The Easter event the day before had nothing on this.
Pearson Farms had been packed, and for good reason, seeing as it’d been set up like an all-day experience—with vendors, food trucks, and games for the families. But Amber’s festivals were always on another level. There was more to do. More to experience. And more people to worry about.
“How do I keep getting roped into this?” I murmured when Gray parked the truck on the driveway of his oldest cousin’s bed and breakfast, just a street away from where the downtown area was blocked off for the festival.
“Because you secretly love this,” he said without any of the tease he normally would’ve delivered a line like that.
“No, I—that isn’t what I meant,” I stammered and mentally cursed the heat that rushed to my cheeks at the confident way he’d spoken. “I meant getting dragged to this the day after Briggs tricked me into going to that Easter festival with him.”
Gray’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before furrowing in a wounded sort of way. “What was that?”
I stilled as I thought over what I’d just said, not at all sure what could’ve made him have that reaction. “What?”
“You went to an Easter festival . . . with Briggs?”
“Yes?” I answered, slowly drawing out the word as I studied the growing frustration in his pale green eyes. “At Pearson Farms. Why?”
An exasperated sound left him. “You don’t”—Gray seemed to think for a moment before continuing—“see anything potentially problematic with that?”
“No,” I said firmly. “He called a meeting. Lainey promised to take Kaia there, but she hasn’t been feeling well, so that’s where we met.”
Gray’s head just bobbed before shaking irritably.
“What?” I snapped.
“Nothing,” he muttered as he opened his door to leave, the nonchalance in his tone at complete odds with the strain in the cab of the truck. But just when I was about to demand he explain, he slammed the door instead and twisted toward me. “He’s married, Mallory. You’re married.”
“Technically,” I reminded him.
“We’re still married,” he shot back. “But even if we weren’t, can you really not see how it might look to anyone who knows Lainey if they saw her husband and Kaia with another woman? At a festival on her family’s farm, no less.”
I tossed my hands out in front of me, nearly knocking my empty cup out of the cup holder as I did. “We were having a meeting.”
“You think that’s what it looked like?”
I stared straight ahead as I tried to consider how it might’ve looked. But, once again, I wondered if the way I’d been raised had made me wholly unprepared for this.
Because, even though Gray’s reaction and words had my gut twisting in worry, all I could think was that it was Briggs. It’d been a meeting. That was it.
“You knew,” I finally said, then looked at him accusingly. “You knew I’d been at a meeting with him. Wren told you—”
“No,” he said over me. “Wren told me you were there, which had already been a surprise to me. I hadn’t been able to figure out why you would be there.
” He pressed a hand to his chest. “But a lot happened right after finding that out, and I honestly kinda forgot you’d even gone there until just now.
And, remember, Chloe told me you’d had a meeting with Briggs. ”
A pained laugh burst from me, laced with resentment.
“Oh my gosh, stop.” I shifted away from him, only then realizing how closely we’d leaned toward each other during the short argument.
“Once again, you have no room to talk, Gray. You’re getting on me for having a meeting with our boss and friend, but what about you? ” I seethed.
“In just a couple sentences, you said, ‘Wren told me’ and ‘Chloe told me’ like it’s perfectly normal and okay for you to be getting your information from the women you’ve slept with or tried to sleep with?
” I waved a hand at him. “If you’re going to use the whole married thing against me, don’t forget it applies to you too. ”
“I never—”
“If it’s about either of them, save it,” I said as I opened my door and started stepping out of the truck. “I was there for too much with both of them.”
I shut the door behind me and stalked down the driveway, toward the groups of people heading to the festival. My emotions clashed and built until I felt ready to unleash every ounce of my pain and anger and uncertainty on the next person who so much as looked at me.
It wasn’t until I was lost in the masses, replaying our conversation for the third time, that I realized I’d grasped at any available thread to lash out at Gray with.
Not because I’d thought he was overreacting—though, he probably had been.
But because the same panic that had filled my chest yesterday had been quick to rise at the realization that he could see things I couldn’t and should’ve been able to, and I’d just .
. . reacted. But instead of giving into that panic I could still feel pressing against the walls of my chest, I’d fallen back to what I’d known . . .
Anger.
The fourth time through the conversation, I slowed to a stop as regret and shame burned low in my veins.
But even if it’d just been Gray and me alone somewhere, I’m not sure I would’ve known how to explain my reaction or what I’d said.
Not when it felt like one step into that conversation would lead me tumbling into all those weaknesses I was struggling to hold back.
It was the fifth time before I even registered the jealousy that had been woven into Gray’s berating.
Strange faces threaded past me as I thought of his features and tone again and again, sure I had it wrong, but that jealousy was all I could hear or see.
And it had all those traitorous longings fluttering to life all over again.