“You love us!” he called after me, braying like a jackass.
“I’m already regretting this trip to San Antonio with you,” I shouted back, shooting him the bird in front of the restaurant’s big picture window.
I had a feeling tomorrow night was going to involve nonstop teasing, and it would only get worse as we piled on the drinks.
I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
CHAPTER11
walker
On Saturday morning, I was ignoring texts from my father, who wanted me to go to the New Braunfels store to cover for a guy they’d fired.
It made my stomach hurt to disappoint him, but I was exhausted. Besides, I’d already promised to meet Beckett at Lupe to scope out the bunk bed situation, get the measurements we needed, and identify future projects.
It was just my luck that Leo was outside, waiting with Beckett, when I got there. I’d known he’d be around, of course, but after dealing with my mother yesterday I really couldn’t deal with one more person telling me how they thought I should live my life.
The minute Ozzie had left the shop, my mom had gone after me like a dog sniffing out a piece of dropped bacon.
“What’s going on between the two of you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
The accusation in her voice bugged the shit out of me, so I answered her question with one of my own. “What do you mean?”
Her nostrils went red, like she’d built herself up a head of steam. “Are you—” She stopped, looked around to confirm the office area was empty, then stepped in closer to me. Whispering furiously, she started, “Are you and the Cavanaugh boy…?”
She wasn’t even able to finish her question.
“Are we what, Mom?” I asked, feigning ignorance. The one advantage of wearing grease for a living and sounding like a Hee Haw stand-in was that people—even those who thought they knew you well—underestimated you.
“Are you having—” She took a fortifying breath. “—illicit dealings with that man?”
“Illicit dealings?” I asked, stifling my temper. “Mom, are you asking if I’m having sex with Ozzie Cavanaugh?”
She blinked rapidly, unable to handle the directness. I arched my brow.
“Well, are you?” she finally spat out.
“No, Mom.” I shook my head, more disappointed in my answer than in her question. “Ozzie and I are not having sex.”
Not yet.
I hoped that might change soon, though.
“Well, then.” The way her body went limp broke my heart.
It was one thing to know how the most cherished human in your life would react to your truth. It was another to have it confirmed live and in person. “You need to be careful how you act around that man,” she said. “Anyone walking in here could’ve seen something that wasn’t there and started a terrible rumor.”
I’d held my tongue, knowing my mom would perish on the spot if I’d told her how I really felt about Ozzie. Or if I’d told her what I’d be doing tonight.
My phone dinged again as I got out of the truck.
Dad:We need you to cover the New Braunfels store.
Dad:Haven’t heard from you, let us know when you’re on the way.
Dad:Junior? Are you getting these texts?
It was clear I’d have to deal with this one way or another, and there was no way I wanted to endure Dad’s limited texting skills, so I pulled up the phone app and hit the button.
