Preston's Honor(52)

Or maybe it was me who had been the coward. Maybe it was me who needed to make a stand. Goddamn it! I raked my fingers through my hair, trying desperately to shut out the torment. I wished I drank. If I did, I could have spent the whole last year shitfaced. I could be three sheets to the wind right this second.

“Are you okay, Preston?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, just wool gathering.”

She nodded and without looking at me said, “Camille told me Hudson’s mother is back in town.” She shot me a quick glance, looking slightly uncomfortable as if it might not be a topic she should bring up. She took care of Hudson, though. She had a right to know about things that pertained to him.

“Yeah. She is.”

“Is that, um, good or bad?”

I sighed. “I’m not entirely sure yet. We haven’t really talked.”

“Are you going to invite her to Hudson’s birthday party?”

God, I hadn’t thought about it, but I guessed I’d have to. It would be cruel not to. There was no way she wouldn’t know her son’s own birthday, so it would be awful to leave her out. I had a hell of a lot of negative emotions regarding Lia, but I wasn’t going to be purposely vindictive. I certainly wouldn’t be giving her much notice. That wasn’t on purpose, though. If Tracie hadn’t reminded me, I might not have shown up. Nice. I’d text her later tonight.

Tracie nodded, focusing back on Hudson and biting her lip.

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.”

She glanced at me again quickly and her cheeks had colored slightly. A soft shade of pink that made her eyes an even more striking blue. “Are you and she going to try to work things out?”

How could we? There was no way back from where we’d been. Too much bitterness, too much animosity, far too much baggage and mistrust.

“No.”

She glanced away and then back at me shyly, nodding her head. “That’s . . . I mean . . .” Her cheeks colored even more. She was . . . pleased. I hated that my own words had brought me distress and a hopeless sock to my gut, but I didn’t know what to do about that. Never knew what to do about that.

“Tracie, do you want to go to dinner with me tonight?”

Her eyes widened slightly but she smiled. “Dinner?”

“Yeah . . . I . . .” I ran my hand through my still sweat-damp hair. “Just a meal.” Simple. Straightforward. Maybe exactly what I needed. Maybe it would help me find some answers.

“I’d love to.” And there was her smile. It wasn’t a smile I’d known since I was a boy. It wasn’t a smile I’d loved desperately with every beat of my heart. It wasn’t a smile that completely shattered my defenses. But it was a sweet smile. Tracie’s smile.

**********

The Mexican restaurant was busy on a Friday night and I wondered if I should have made a reservation. But when I told the hostess there were two of us for dinner, she smiled and told us to follow her to a table by the window.

I pulled Tracie’s chair out for her and sat down, glancing around. I’d never been here before, though I’d driven by it often enough, and was glad Tracie had mentioned it. It had a charming old-world feel that appealed to me and the lighting was bright enough to see the cleanliness of the surroundings while not being so bright that it didn’t also provide a calming ambiance.

The wall in front of our booth was covered in a colorful mural, depicting an outdoor scene in Mexico. The clothing the people wore and the presence of horses told me it was a depiction from the early nineteen hundreds. My eye was caught by a couple, the woman sitting on a low wall with her legs crossed demurely at her ankles, holding a flower to her nose while a man was on one knee before her, gazing upward with such naked adoration it snagged my heart for a second. The artist was good—I felt that look because I knew the emotions behind it, the gut-churning, soul-crushing need for a woman who was just it for you. I’d felt that way. For a moment, I felt true pity for the poor guy in the painting.

Tracie picked up her menu and gave me a shy smile and I managed a smile back, feeling slightly off balance at being so swiftly pulled back to the moment. Not only that, but the truth was, even though I’d enjoyed female companionship in college, I really never found anyone I’d been interested in dating. This was a somewhat new experience for me.

“Are you as nervous as I am?” Tracie asked.

I looked up from my menu, and she was looking at me shyly from beneath her lashes. “The truth is, I haven’t really dated much,” I said, voicing what I’d been thinking a moment before.

She tilted her head. “What about Hudson’s mother?”

I felt the heat rise in my face and hoped Tracie couldn’t see it under the tan I had from working outside all day. What did I say? We didn’t really date? The extent of our romance was twenty earth-shattering minutes on top of my farmhouse table? But that wasn’t true either. I’d loved Lia fiercely since we were children. “It’s complicated,” I murmured.

She stared at me for a moment before looking down at her menu.

“What about you?” I asked, desperate to change the subject. “Do you go out a lot?”

She shrugged. “With friends sometimes. But you may have noticed that Linmoor isn’t exactly hopping as far as a social scene goes.”