The Resurrection of Wildflowers (Wildflower #2)(21)

I square my shoulders. “I know that, but I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“I have a feeling you won’t want to talk about it ever. Why don’t we just go for a drive?”

“My mom—”

“Get out of here and leave me alone! I need my beauty sleep!” she yells in a croaky voice, overhearing us.

I glower at the man who towers above me. “Fine,” I bite out. “Lead the way.”

He saunters out first, and I almost slam the door shut and lock it behind him.

Almost.

The only thing that stops me is my mom’s demand for us to leave. I know her time is limited, but I can’t imagine how I’d feel in her position with people always hovering. She should be allowed to have some time to herself. Even if it’ll worry me sick.

“I want to be back here in thirty minutes.” I point a finger forcefully at the driveway to drive home my point.

“All right.” He walks backwards, hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts. “Then walk faster. We have twenty-nine minutes and—” he looks at the watch on his wrist “—forty-eight seconds left.”

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone more infuriating.

“Were you always this annoying and I was too dumb to see it?”

A flash of pain pierces his face, but he quickly schools his expression back into place. I can’t help but feel bad for letting that comment slip. I find it particularly difficult to bite my tongue around him.

He unlocks his truck, the scent of brand-new leather hitting my nose. He lets me climb inside but doesn’t shut the door right away. “Do you hate me, Salem?” He’s not asking it in a joking way. He’s serious, and worried to.

I duck my head, my blonde hair falling forward to shield my face. “No,” I admit softly. “I could never hate you, Thayer.”

He was my first true love—maybe my only one.

He’s the father of my child.

I don’t have it in me to hate him.

But that doesn’t mean any of this is easy.

“Good. That means there’s a chance.” His eyes are relieved. He closes the door and moves around the front of his truck.

I let his one comment go, not wanting to touch that. “Where are we going?”

He cranks the engine, turning the AC all the way up.

“Like I said, for a drive.”

“All right.” I look out the window at my mom’s house. The hydrangea bushes in the front are lush and full. I can’t help but wonder if the man at my side has anything to do with that. But I won’t dare ask.

We drive away and it isn’t long until we’re out of the town limits, cruising the roads.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” I prompt stupidly.

A tiny grin graces his lips. “And I thought you didn’t.”

“I’m locked in a car with you, I might as well speak.”

He rubs at his jaw. “Tell me something, anything about the past six years.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him why he cares, but I bite back the words. I’m being defensive and it’s stupid. I’m a grown woman now and I swore to myself I’d leave the past in the past, so I need to do a better job of actually practicing that. It’s just that seeing him, being around him, leaves me feeling conflicted. I hate being thrown off balance.

“Well,” I clear my throat, “there’s not a whole lot to tell.”

You know, except for the kid bomb I need to drop on you at some point.

I don’t want to keep Seda a secret from him. That was never the plan. I’ve imagined a million different ways of telling him and none of them seem right. I don’t think there is a right way to tell him. I just have to do it.

“Give me something. Anything.” He sounds almost desperate to know about my life without him.

“I lived with Lauren in Brooklyn for a while, got a job waitressing. Came back to Boston and lived in an apartment with Caleb when we got engaged. We ended up moving to California for him to finish school and start practicing law. Then he got a job offer back in Boston that was too good to pass up. That’s about it.” I shrug, my eyes glued out the window, ignoring his gaze on me.

“Did you ever go to college?”

“No.”

“What about jobs?”

I was a stay-at-home mom.

“Just some random things from time to time. Nothing really stuck.”

“You just … huh.” He scratches his jaw, contemplating.

“You really thought you were holding me back?”

“I guess even after your passioned speech, it made me feel better to think I’d cut you loose so you could do something with your life.”

A flash of anger erupts in my veins. “Just because I didn’t go to college or have a steady job doesn’t mean I haven’t done anything with my life.”

“Sorry,” he sounds sincere, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”

I sigh. “No, I’m sorry. I seem to be a tad defensive when it comes to you.”

He smiles over at me, his fingers flexing against the steering wheel. “A tad?”

“Okay, a lot. I’ll work on it.”

“I like your anger.”