My hands twitch and a little moan slips out before I come fully wake. A hard shoulder is under my cheekbone, and there’s a knot in my neck. I lift my head and groan. It’s Monday morning, but I’m not in my bed, and I’m definitely not in the bakery.
“Let me get that for you.” It’s Cruz I fell asleep on. He covers the back of my neck with his warm hand and massages. This man can work his magic in all sorts of ways. I let my eyelids drift shut.
The smell of a sanitized environment surrounds me, and the lights above us shine bright through my eyelids. Mom’s in the Billings ER, and Dad is sleeping on an ungodly uncomfortable chair next to her.
I was with them long enough to get an update, then I came out to the waiting room with Cruz. Mom’s supposed to get discharged soon, and instead of having Clem miss work to pick us up, Cruz said he had no issues bringing us home.
A pressure swells in my chest, pushing out and filling all the nooks and crannies. He didn’t want me to scam a free drink forhim. He acted as if my past experience wasn’t my fault. And he didn’t leave me when I couldn’t sleep with him, again.
Last night was a whirlwind. I fielded calls from Clem. Mom’s head hurt and I didn’t get much time to talk to her before the doctor stopped in. Dad kept me posted about what was going on. Blood draws, CAT scans, pain meds, and then waiting. Cruz has been by my side through it all, getting me water, snacks, and shoulder rubs.
I should be worried about how much time I’m out for work, but I can’t. I’m grateful I could be there for Mom, and even gladder Cruz is with me.
“Can I get you something to eat?” he asks.
I rub my eyes. A raccoon could beat me in a Who Wore It Better contest. Before Cruz and I left the bakery, I changed into a loose shirt and shorts, but I still have my platform espadrilles on. I have to look ridiculous.
I let out a dry laugh. When he looks at me, eyes full of questions, I shake my head. “You’re offering to buy me a meal, and I look like hell.”
“Are you running a pity con on me?” He smiles as he asks, and he speaks softly so no one else can hear.
How am I at the point that I can talk about this part of my life so glibly with someone? “Most definitely, but I feel like it’s too much work for too little payout.”
“Pretty bold of you to get your parents in on the scam.”
Another chuckle spills out of me. “My bad. I’ll work solo next time.”
He presses a kiss to the side of my head. “I’ll go find a breakfast burrito or something. I can get something for your dad if you want to run one to him.”
A message buzzes through on my phone.
Dad: We’re almost out of here. Mom’s hungry. Can you grab her some food?
I show Cruz the text.
He stands. “Four breakfast burritos coming up. Coffee?”
“Yes, please. That’s probably half of Mom’s headache if she still has one.”
I watch his denim-clad ass when he walks away. He’s hardly slept and his swagger makes it look like he’s ready to go out and do hours of chores. That man has not given up on me, and I’m so glad I wasn’t alone all night.
While waiting, I finger-comb my hair and twist it into a loose braid. By the time Cruz returns with a bag of food and a carrier full of coffees, my mom is getting wheeled out by my dad. A nurse walks next to them.
“I’ll get the chariot.” Cruz winks at my mom. Her smile is wan, but appreciation shines in her eyes.
The warm pressure is back in my chest, filling every niche possible.
“So that’s him?” Mom says when we’re outside in the fresh air, waiting for Cruz to pull around. “Your dad’s had a lot to say.”
“Ihave a lot to say about him.” Finally, there’s something good I can share with them beyond the bakery. “I’ll have to tell you.”
“I hope you do.”
A few minutes later, Cruz pulls up and helps Mom into the back seat and I get in next to her. All the way back to Huckleberry Springs, Dad chats with him in the front while Mom dozes. I let my weariness sink in and admire his profile. The way he held me while we danced. There was no hip thrusting or shaking of my ass, and he cradled me tenderly against him.
While I can’t take my eyes off Cruz, Dad asks my date all about growing up in Bozeman, and Cruz politely skims over the most dramatic parts of his childhood, dwelling on his time working at the Bailey Beef ranch and learning the ropes of distilling instead.
When we reach their house, Cruz doesn’t dump and run. He’s Mom’s support, helping her inside. She must really be out of it if she’s not pestering him with all the questions she slept through Dad asking. Then Cruz waits with me until Clem arrives to stay with our parents, and he drives me back to the bakery.
