CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LIZ
"What are you doing?" I ask when I watch Jovi march straight past my car toward his truck, Gavin hustling to keep his little legs moving fast enough to keep up with the man's long strides.
"The thing we came out here to do," he answers without turning back. "Going to the store."
I shake my keys in the air, making them jingle. "My car is right here."
Jovi reaches his truck and stops short of opening the door, finally turning back to face me. "Truck is easier. Car seats are still in it."
I make a face. I forgot about those. Another mark against me on the parenting front.
Regardless, the reason we took Jovi's truck when we went to Biscuit Barn was because my car still had stuff in the backseat.
But now, my car is empty. "A situation we should rectify sooner rather than later," I point out.
"I'm going to be the one driving with the kids on a daily basis.
Might as well get my car set up for the task. "
He shakes his head. "I'll make sure everything is ready for tomorrow morning's school run before I turn in tonight. For now, let’s just get going so we can get back before it gets late. I have horses to tend to, and you have two small bellies to fill come lunch and an empty pantry."
I place both hands on my hips, trying my best to keep my tone light as both children take an obvious interest in our exchange. "Is this some sort of boys against girls thing? Does it wound your fragile masculinity to be driven around by a woman?"
He barks a laugh. "Fragile masculinity?" Shaking his head, he opens the door. "You want to drive? Be my guest. I'll happily have you chauffeur me around."
I purse my lips, holding back a building desire to rant.
Instead, I close the distance between us and lower my voice when we're close enough to keep our conversation private from Remmi and Gavin.
Both of whom seem stuck in limbo between our opposing vehicles as we continue our standoff.
"What is your freaking deal, Jovi? I don't have time or energy to engage in this stupid power struggle with you.
Stop being so stubborn and get in my car. "
"No." His calm voice only serves to irritate me more.
"And while we're on the topic, I don't want you in it anymore either.
It's not safe. All I had to do was watch you move it from the front of the house to the carport for that fact to be abundantly clear.
I don't know how it survived the drive here, but we're not taking it to the store.
Hell, if I have my way, it's never leaving this driveway again. Unless it’s being towed to the junkyard. "
"Rude," I snap, too flustered by half of what he said to come up with something better.
He sighs. "Get in, Liz." He holds his key fob out for me to take. "Might as well get used to driving it since you'll be using it until further notice."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." When I don't move, he takes my hand and peels my fingers back, pressing the fob to my palm before curling my fist around it. "Stop acting like you can't make sense of what I'm saying. You're a smart woman and this is all pretty straightforward."
I swallow, unable to come up with another argument. At least not one I'm likely to win.
I'm not an idiot. I'm aware my car isn't in great shape.
It's old, and while I've kept up the maintenance on it, it's reached a point where major pieces need replacing.
And that hasn't been in my budget to do.
But there's no way in hell I'm taking over Jovi's truck either.
Well, not beyond this outing anyway. He's not wrong.
We need groceries and this day is quickly slipping away from us.
So, I huff, and give in.
Between the two of us, it only takes a minute to get both kids strapped in their seats and then we're finally on the road.
Cedar Hill is a small town in terms of population, but Serendipity Ranch sits on the outskirts, and getting to the grocery store takes nearly thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes of listening to Gavin's favorite audiobook.
Four and a half times. Because it's a short children's book.
Remmi is a good sport about it. A really good sport. I see her mouthing the words as it plays, having memorized the entire tale.
Jovi and I don't exchange a single word.
Nor do we so much as look at each other.
The no contact pact we seem to have made in the driveway continues when we reach the store and he takes it upon himself to secure us a cart.
I find myself tempted to grab one of my own, but even I can recognize that's stubborn, hyper-independent-psychotic-behavior. Not to mention, childish.
For a while we wander the aisles, adding items to our collection, both of us limiting out interactions to those with the kids.
Gavin sits perched in the seat of the cart while Remmi walks along beside me, holding my hand.
It's not lost on me the image we must portray, Jovi pushing the cart and me at his side, the kids between us.
It's bizarre. How normal the picture appears and how wrong it all is beneath the surface.
I'm still dwelling on the agonizing absurdity of it all when we turn the corner down the frozen foods section and come to an abrupt halt.
"Liz?"
It takes my brain a second to catch up with my eyes. But then, "Brennan?"
My high school boyfriend.
His body has filled out and his features have matured, but the boy I knew is still visible in his light blue eyes and the broad smile he greets me with.
"I had no idea you were back in town," he says, shifting his basket from one hand to the other to reach out and give me a one-armed hug.
When he steps back, his eyes cast down to where Remmi is still clutching my hand, then to where Gavin sits in the cart.
"I heard what happened. I'm so sorry." His fingers slide down my arm and cling to my fingers, giving them a soft squeeze. "If there's anything I can do—"
"Thanks, but we've got it covered," Jovi cuts in before he can finish making his offer.
It's the first I see Brennan's gaze move to take him in.
His broad smile turns forced and I remember that the two of them always seemed to have some sort of friction between them.
I never did figure out why. Never cared enough to find out.
I had my own issues with Jovi, so back then it felt like a common annoyance Brennan and I shared in.
Now, it rubs me the wrong way and I can't begin to unpack why that is.
"Jovi Daniels. I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you've found a way to involve yourself." The forced smile is accompanied by something that sounds an awful lot like a sneer.
Before Jovi can respond and this whole situation devolves from a friendly run-in to some regurgitated high school drama, I say, "Of course he's involved. Jovi is family." I'm not sure who's more surprised by my words. Jovi or me. So I rush to add, "Him and Trent have always been like brothers."
Brennan's smile shifts, turning genuine again as he redirects his focus to me. "If you're buying groceries, that mean you're going to be in town for a while?"
I nod. "I'm staying out at Serendipity."
"We both are," Jovi adds. "And one of us needs to get back to work a horse or two, so if you don't mind, we really need to return to our grocery list."
I shoot him a glare which he ignores. But Brennan notices and smirks. "Of course." His lingering fingers curl around mine one more time. "I'll call you." Then he smiles and releases my hand, not so much as acknowledging Jovi as he moves past us and leaves the aisle.
"Who wants ice cream?" Jovi asks the second Brennan has cleared the vicinity. An obvious ploy to distract me from laying into him about the way he treated the man.
Both kids start calling out flavors and it takes us at least ten minutes to settle on four, neither of which Jovi or I choose, before we can leave the frozen foods behind and stock up on produce.
By the time we leave the store, our cart is overflowing and we've spent nearly four hundred dollars. By far the most I've ever spent on groceries.
I remind myself that we needed more this time than I'll need week to week.
Even so, I'll need to make serious adjustments to my monthly budget to accommodate feeding three instead of one.
Add to that the difference in utility expenses when comparing a small apartment for a single woman to a house with three residents.
Water is free since we have a well, but I imagine the power bill will be considerably higher than I'm used to paying.
Panic tightens my chest by the time we reach the truck. Everything has happened so fast. I committed to this without fully considering what it would mean. If it would actually be possible. Especially with my income taking a hit in the transition.
I make decent enough money. Maybe I never invested any of it in my car, but I've been able to live comfortably, afford a nice apartment and travel plenty for both business and pleasure.
But is it enough to support a family of three?
Can I make it stretch enough over the next year until the horse business can be relied on to cover the mortgage and provide essentials for the kids?
I buckle Remmi in on autopilot, then meet Jovi at the back of the truck to load up the groceries.
"You're spiraling," he says under his breath as he heaves half the contents of our cart onto the bed in one go.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, reaching for as many bags as possible. My body moves on autopilot as if this has become some sort of competition, while my mind returns to the challenges ahead.
The fingers on my left hand are turning bright red, but I still try to hook them around the next set of handles when a much larger hand wraps around them and another to match starts unraveling all the work I did trying to outdo him. I don't fight him.