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“Okay, you can give me a ride but I’ve just texted one of my best friends and if she doesn’t hear from me in exactly thirty minutes, she will call the police. I should also mention that I have a twin brother in the Navy who will hunt you down and gut you like a fish if you try anything. Oh, and one more thing, you try to touch me at all and I’ll stab your junk with the knife I keep in my purse. Are we clear?”
He bites his lip, holding back laughter as he nods. “Crystal, sweetheart. My car’s this way.”
I follow him as he leads me through the parking lot to a matte black Camaro that makes my heart race for a whole other reason. Since I was a little girl, I’ve always had a thing for muscle cars and any guy that drives one, really. There’s just something about those bad boys and I’m sure my mother prayed I would grow out of it but to this day, this car gets me a little wet.
“Gorgeous car,” I say, running my finger along the hood. He grins as he opens the passenger door.
“Glad you like it. Your chariot awaits.” He extends his hand to the seat and I scrunch up my nose.
“Don’t do that.”
His brow furrows. “What?”
“That chivalry thing. You’re not selling it well and I’m definitely not buying it.”
He chuckles, shaking his head like he can’t quite believe the things that are coming out of my mouth and I wonder if my brutal honesty is too much for him. I walk over to him and brush past him as I slide into the car, enjoying the quick intake of air and the stiffening of his body. This is exactly what I needed after this past week.
As he closes the door, it crashes down on me – the realization that Mom is dead, the pain I was able to escape for a few hours and the guilt that I managed to go even one moment without thinking of her. God, what kind of daughter am I? Who flirts with someone one week after their mother died?
He slips behind the wheel and I suck in a breath, discreetly wiping away the few tears that managed to escape. The engine rumbles to life and I run my hands over the leather interior, appreciating the quality. All my boyfriends in the past were hard on their cars, driving the piss out of them, and living life to the fullest inside them but this one is damn near show quality.
“I’m Lincoln, by the way,” he says as he pulls out of the parking lot and I nod.
“Tate. But you obviously knew that already.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” He glances over at me. “Where am I going?”
I rattle off my mom’s address and he nods. We’re quiet for a while, my mind running with questions from the last few days. Each time we learn something new, it feels like a hundred more questions spill out and at this point, I think I’d like to just grieve in peace.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks as we near Mom’s house.
I nod. “Sure.”
“Earlier, you said this has been the worst week of your life. What did you mean by that?”
Sucking in a breath, I sit up straighter in the seat and clear my throat. “Uh, my mom died eight days ago.”
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he says and I nod, fighting back tears again. It’s nice but it’s just something people say and no one really knows how this feels unless they’ve lost a parent, too.
“My dad died when I was a kid,” he admits and I turn to him, surprised. “I know what it’s like.”
“Oh,” I whisper. “It’s a bitch, huh?”
He chuckles, nodding his head. “Yeah, it is.”
“Does it ever get better?” I ask, not sure that I really want the answer but I’ve never lost a loved one before and I hate not knowing. He sighs.
“I don’t know that better is the right word. Some days are easier and some days are like it just happened or I’ll think of something I want to tell him before realizing that I can’t.”
“That’s kind of what I figured,” I mutter as he pulls up in front of the house.
“Nice place.”
I turn and look up at the southern cottage. “Thanks, for the compliment and the ride.”
“Not a problem.”
Reaching out to grab the door handle, I look back at him. “Well, see you…probably never.”
