“You made it,” Ridge says as soon as I step out of my truck.
Things have been awkward between us. We haven’t really talked much since the night we got married, other than a few texts here and there.
Yet here I am, ready to move in with the man.
“I made it. Did you think I wouldn’t?” I sass.
He smirks at me. “Well, you were supposed to come yesterday, so yeah, it was a concern.”
I roll my eyes at him. “I don’t need another father. One was more than enough. I’m allowed to hang out with my friends.”
“I never said you couldn’t. You asked a question, and I answered. You know, this doesn’t have to be so difficult,” he informs me.
I deflate. Isn’t that what Aspen and Maggie had told me last night? I dictate how this goes. The way I act will change how comfortable I am here.
I smile. “I know. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moves to the back of my truck and grabs a box. It’s on the edge of my tongue to tell him I can handle it, but I don’t.
“So this is where you live?” I say, grabbing my own box.
“You’ve been here before. With Mustang.”
I shrug. “I barely remember it. I don’t think I stayed long,” I mumble.
“You left after five minutes. You said you left the stove on.” He gives me a look over his shoulder as I follow him inside the house.
“Okay, so I didn’t want to spend time with you. Sue me,” I jest.
“That’s all going to change now, huh? I hope not all of it, though. I actually enjoyed some of your antics.”
I snort. “Yeah? Like what?”
He sets the box down, waiting for me to do the same.
“Remember the Fourth of July parade when you hid from me inside the Kellman’s trunk?” he asks.
I frown. I do remember it, but I didn’t know he knew about it.
Then it dawns on me.
“You are the reason the keys went missing? I was stuck in that trunk for three hours while Jimmy and Ron tried to get me out.”
He chuckles, wiping his hand down his face. “You were so desperate not to see me, so I thought I’d take care of it for the rest of the night.”
I smack his chest. “You asshole. I missed the fireworks.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but you weren’t down at the bonfire drinking with those so-called friends of yours either. You know Gerald got third-degree burns that night jumping over the fire drunk.”
I vaguely remembered hearing that.
“So? I’m not dumb enough to jump over the fire,” I remind him.
“No, but sometimes the people you hang out with can influence the things you do without knowing it.”
I think back to that group of friends. Three of them are in jail, while two went to college but flunked out. I never considered it before, but would I have ended up the same had I kept in touch?
“Maybe. Or maybe you were a buzz kill. It’s why I avoided you, you know. I was sick of you dragging me out of parties.”
