“They go together, don’t they?” she asks carefully. “It looks nice.”
“Yeah, if you’re colorblind,” I say with a snort. “He’s not even planting them in a pattern, it’s all just random. I’ll bet good money none of those are annuals. We’ll have a half dead garden for most of the year, if they even take root in the first place.”
Mary hums curiously, brows hiking up even higher as she parks the car.
“You sound awfully bitter about some flower arrangements,” she muses. “Something got you worked up, or did you just develop a passion for perennials overnight?”
I scowl at Mary’s teasing, rushing to unclip my seatbelt so I can get all of this over with. The faster I can get away from Lucas, the better.
“I’m notbitterabout anything.” Except for having my heart broken, and being left behind, and Lucas’s insistence on acting like things are just peachy between us. “I just don’t like people who can’t do their jobs.”
I shove my door open before stepping out, hoping the way I slam it shut behind me will signal quite a firm end to the conversation.
This is Mary, though. I should know better. She’s like a dog with a damn bone.
“That’s a bit harsh,” she says, joining me at the trunk to pull bags of groceries out. “Don’t you think you’re being a little ridiculous? As far as I know, he’s been nothing but polite since he got here. Did he do something I don’t know about?”
Ha. “Polite” and “Lucas Cross” don’t belong in the same sentence together.
If I hadn’t gotten to know Mary’s particular brand of meddling, I’d think she was genuinely curious. As it is, though, I’m not stupid enough to think she doesn’t know why Lucas gets on my nerves so much. I place the bags in my hands back down in the trunk with a thud and turn to face her properly, hands on my hips.
“I know Dad told you about myhistorywith that asshole,” I hiss, wishing I could yell but knowing I need to keep my voice down. “He’s done plenty, and I don’t want to be around him. End of story.”
Mary just shrugs, leaning against the side of the car with an amused glint in her eyes and a grin teasing at the corners of her mouth.
“Just asking. Everett told me you two dated in high school, but he said you two broke off on pretty okay terms,” she says, her voice carefully light.
Pretty okay terms?Jesus fuck, is the old man blind? I cried myself to sleep for months after Lucas left me, my whole fucking life changed. Sure, Dad didn’t know the details of our plans, but it must have set something off in his head when I went to community college instead of going to Tallahassee.
“Oh, yeah, we were both just thrilled to break up,” I say waspishly. “It was a blast, best memory I have of our time together.”
Mary looks surprised at the vehement anger in my voice, but we don’t get a chance to talk further before a deep, rumbling voice cuts in from behind me.
Speak of the motherfucking devil.
“Can I help y’all bring those in?” Lucas asks, polite as can be. As he always is, despite my claims to the contrary.
“No, definitely?—”
“That’d be fantastic, thank you, Lucas,” Mary damn near shouts over me. “All the heavy bags are in the backseat, if you could get those.”
And then she’s off, arms laden with tote bags full of groceries, leaving me steaming with anger as I gape after her. Alone. With Lucas.
Goddamnit.
What the fuck is everyone’s problem? Since when do we just let people show up and just give them a fucking job? If Dad was feeling altruistic, why not find a couple people in town who needed jobs, that we don’t have some tortured history with?
Why did it have to be Lucas fucking Cross?
“What’s with the face?” he asks, with a teasing snort.
I hate him, I hate him, I fucking hate him.
“I don’t have a fuckingface,” I scoff.
He stares at me. I stare right back. We both blink, and my face goes bright red when I realize what I just said.
Lucas tosses his head back on a gut-deep, booming laugh.
