Page 70 of Tough Love
“What do you think I should get?” I ask him as he climbs into the driver seat. “Hot pink? Purple?” I smirk, watching him out the corner of my eye.
He sighs, smiling as he turns the engine over. “Whatever you like, babe.”
He pulls out of the parking space, oblivious to the fact I stare at him in awe. He’s never called me anything other than my name before now, and the moniker leaves me with a little fuzzy feeling in my chest I quite dig.
“I don’t even know what sort of car to get.” The sun peeks out from behind a cloud, colours splitting off in a kaleidoscope as the rays hit the residual drizzle on the windscreen. “Do I get a hatchback? A sedan? A station wagon?”
“Get a four wheel drive,” he states, checking the way is clear before easing us onto the highway into the city. “Something high.”
“Why?”
“So I know you can see everything that’s coming, that you’re safe.” He glances over, his gaze raking a hot trail down the length of me. “Compact cars get hidden, and they crush easily. I wouldn’t feel right knowing you two were getting around in one of those.”
Okay then.I turn away so he doesn’t catch my giddy grin at his clearly dominant display of concern over my welfare. It’s … nice to be cared about like that, to know that somebody worries about me, even when I’m not with them.
“Fine,” I answer. “But if it’s going to be some massive tank, it at least has to have reversing sensors.”
He chuckles, reaching out for my hand as we cruise among the weekend traffic. “Deal.”
Three hours and one Happy Meal later, we finally find “the one.” I bounce on the balls of my feet, eager to get into my brand-new Kia as the salesman removes the seat protector and dealership mats.
Thanks to the fact I was paying in cash, and that I had a rather intimidating man on my side, we managed to knock three thousand off the pricewhilegetting a full tank of gas and twelve months’ registration thrown in.
I need to take Evan shopping more often if these are the kind of deals he produces.
“Can I come with you?” Briar asks.
“Not this time, buddy.” I’d rather get used to the new vehicle without having to worry about his safety as well. Besides, if Evan gives him a lift back to Kath’s, then that means I have more chance of convincing him to stay for dinner.
Yep. Using a kid for my own end game isn’t beneath me, it seems.
“Can we go somewhere tomorrow?”
I reach out, relishing the feel of Briar’s small hand as he links his with mine. “Sure. We could do a special run to my house if you like?”
“Okay.”
I haven’t talked to Briar about the shift yet, unsure how to approach it if he doesn’t take it well. Kath’s lease is paid up until the end of the month, a little under a week away. Our time’s running out fast, and I haven’t even started listing her things online for sale yet, let alone decided what to keep.
Evan emerges from the offices, having hashed out the final details with the clerk. Usually, it would peeve me off having a guy come in and take charge as though I was incapable of doing this myself, but today? It’s kind of cool pretending we’re a unit and this is how things always are.
I smile as he approaches, admiring how fine he looks today in a pair of distressed denim jeans and a tight grey T-shirt. The man looks good in anything: work uniform, suit, civvies.
The emo clothes he wore in school.
“All sorted.” He reaches out as he stops beside me, looping an arm around my shoulders.
Briar nestles in against my legs, resting his shoulders against my stomach as he plays with the McDonald’s toy in his hands.
“I think we did well,” I say, admiring the car I’ve already mentally picked accessories for.
“Yeah, we did.” Evan tightens his hold, pulling me to his side as he places a kiss on the top of my head.
I admit it: I’m totally in love with this guy. My previous concerns? Gone. Worries over whether he’d hurt me again? Vanished. And what’s more? It scares the shit out of me.
There’s so much change yet to come with bringing Briar home and settling us into our routine. So much unknown. So many hurdles. I don’t know if I can handle any heartache that might come from this if things don’t work out.
“Stay for dinner?” I plead.