"Oh, ha, ha. You're hysterical."
"Shall we?" he asked.
I slipped out the door and turned to lock it. The move put me closer to Brody and I could smell the hints of his cologne. It was different from the one he wore during college, but it still went straight to my head.
When I faced him, I actually let myself take in how he looked. Which was too good. He was dressed down in a pair of faded jeans and a white t-shirt. His dark hair was brushed away from his forehead and still damp from his shower.
He looked better now than he did at twenty-four on the day of his wedding. It wasn't fair.
"So what are you going to torture me with tonight?" he asked.
I grinned and told him the name of the movie I'd chosen.
"Nice. Should I be grateful you didn't choose something based on Jane Austen or a chick flick?"
"Chick flick? Really? You're better than that, Brody."
He shrugged. "I'm not sure what else to call them."
"Whatever the real genre is. Rom-com, romantic drama, that sort of thing. You have a daughter. You need to watch what you say."
He shook his head and laughed. "I'm not sure if I'm glad or terrified that I moved back to Farley with her."
"Just don't pass on any of your inherent sexism and all will be fine."
He stared at me with his brows raised.
"Down with the patriarchy!" I said, raising my fist just above my shoulder.
"And now I'm not sure if you're going to be a good influence or a corrupting one for Jacks."
"Good, of course. She needs to know that she can do anything, be anything, she wants to be. That she can earn what she wants, no matter her gender."
Once again, he placed his hand on the small of my back, something that usually drove me absolutely nuts, and guided me down the front steps toward his car. Strangely, instead of feeling herded, I had the sense of safety. That he cared. Which was ridiculous because I'd barely seen him in the last seven years.
"Has someone ever made you feel something other than that?" he asked.
I grabbed the handle on the car door a split second before he did and opened it. I leaned against the frame and looked back at him. "Not my family. And not you. But yeah. There have been times when I was treated differently from the boys in my college classes or at my part-time job while I was in school." I shrugged one shoulder. "It could have been a lot worse. I could have had parents that encouraged me to get married young and start popping out babies, that my only value lay in the roles as wife and mother." I realized how that sounded and continued quickly. "Not that wives and mothers are worth less. Just that I wasn't pushed into that. That wasn't all that was expected of me. There's nothing wrong with a woman having those goals, just like there's nothing wrong with a man having them. Shit, I'm making a mess of this explanation, aren't I?"
Brody's eyes were oddly intent as he looked at me. "No, I understand exactly what you mean. And I just decided that I wouldn't be upset at all if Jacks picked up your attitude."
I grinned at him before I climbed into the car. "You say that now. Wait until she's fourteen. Or have you forgotten what I was like?"
"Dear God, you're evil to wish that upon me," he grumbled. He waited until my feet were inside the car before he shut my door.
But I was pretty sure he heard my laugh as he walked around the car to the driver's side.
Less than five minutes together and this night was already entertaining.
* * *
As soon aswe got to the theater and found seats, I realized this was a truly horrible idea. Brody drove us to a movie theater near the Dallas area and the armrests lifted up between the seats. Which he promptly did, claiming it would be more comfortable.
As soon as I sat down, my arm brushed his and my thigh made contact with his leg. Eleven years ago, seventeen-year-old me would have been in a state of bliss.
But twenty-eight-year-old me felt like she was coming out of her skin.
At Brody's insistence, we both got drinks, but he asked if we could share popcorn. I hadn't argued because he refused to let me pay for any of it. He'd even grabbed a pack of Raisinettes.
