“What’s up, Mom?”
“Celine is making me eat tuna.”
Despite her annoyance, Drea laughed.“You called to complain about tuna?”How in holy hell was she meant to focus on tuna, when all she could feel was the imprint of Cujo’s hand across her breast and the whisper of his lips against her skin?
Here, in Cujo’s home, she could almost find herself again, could almost connect to the person she was before her mom got sick.That girl felt like she was within reach.
Patiently, she let her mom ramble, punctuating the conversation occasionally with an appropriate comment or well-placed murmur of agreement.She looked over to the door.Cujo was outside, and she wanted to be with him.
“So Celine said this afternoon we have to go and—”
“Mom, I gotta go.Please find a way to get along with Aunt Celine.”
“But what about the tuna?”Who gave a flying fuck about the tuna?
“Good-bye, Mom.”
She wandered out to the porch and found him sitting on the front steps, swirling a key ring around his finger.She sat beside him and he slid his arm around her shoulders.
“How was Rosa?”he asked, his fingers running up and down her arm.
“Worried about fish.”She tangled her fingers with his.
“Want to tell me what’s going on with you?”
It seemed too big a question.To tell him so many of the things that festered inside her, keeping her awake.How could she explain the fact she was days away from hitting the food bank?Or that she grappled with the dichotomy of the angry, sick Rosa dying without ever really getting to know loving, caring Rosa, her mom.
And there was the woman.“I can’t forget her.I dream about the gun, and us, stuck in that tiny closet.I also dream about her.If I had been at the front of the shop, maybe I could have done something.I won’t be able to rest until I know she is safe.”
They sat for a few more moments, until Cujo gently kissed her temple.
He handed Drea a set of keys.“Thought you might need a car while yours is in the shop.”She looked over at the little silver car.
“How much is it going to cost?”she asked quietly.“It could be months before I can pay you back.”
“I offer a great sex for cash payment plan, Drea.You can work it off.”
She glared at him, but he smiled at her, the blue in his eyes brighter than usual.
“Joke, Drea.I co-own the garage with my brother, Devon.That’s one of our loaners.No charge.”
The corner of her mouth twitched.“Do you own part of the tattoo shop as well?”
He shrugged.“Yeah.”
Drea chewed on her bottom lip.He wasn’t as lazy and laid-back as he seemed.She’d totally misjudged him.
He pushed a loose piece of hair behind her ear, and the heat from his thumb trailed along her cheek.“Call it a birthday gift.I missed it this year.”
“You didn’t know me when it was my birthday this year,” she said smiling at him shyly.
“Details, details,” he said, brushing her lips gently with his.
CHAPTER TEN
The party was in full swing.Trent was telling him about an idiot contestant on the show who had totally messed up a challenge, but Cujo was only half-listening.
He watched Drea as she fixed the flowers, pushed in chairs, and returned empty glasses back to the bar.And if he saw her do one more run to restock the candy station, he was staging an intervention.She should be enjoying herself, not working.
