Slow Ride (26 page)

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Authors: Erin McCarthy

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General

BOOK: Slow Ride
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Oh, my God, he was in love.
The realization shocked him to the core. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been in love before and that it would show up now, in this form, was more than a little unnerving. He felt like he couldn’t breathe all of a sudden. “So what the hell do I do, Johnny?”
“Well, you could turn tail and run. That I don’t recommend. You could put a ring on her finger. Which I think is rushing it. Or you could just enjoy spending time with her, stop worrying and thinking about it.”
That made sense. “That’s true. So I should just enjoy it? Not try to define it or whatever?”
“Did you change genders when I wasn’t looking? What man sits around trying to define his relationship.” His uncle shook his head. “Christ.”
Between his uncle and his friends, he was pretty much being told he was a girl. That was comforting. “What’s wrong with wanting to know where you stand?”
“You’re making me uncomfortable.” His uncle was actually shifting in his chair. “For crying out loud, what is it that you want?”
“I just want to know that she’s not going to date anyone else.” Forced to cut through his confusion, Diesel was instantly relieved to know that was exactly what he wanted. He didn’t need a declaration of love just yet because he wasn’t sure he was ready to share
his
feelings. Nor did he want to skip five steps ahead and contemplate marriage.
But he did want to know she wasn’t going to be getting boned by anyone else, because that just might make his head explode.
“Then tell her not to.”
“Tell her? What decade are you dating in?”
“Well, okay,
discuss
it with her.” His uncle rolled his eyes and waved his hand. “Just figure it out soon because you’re starting to get on my nerves.”
He could probably do that. He could casually broach the subject with Tuesday, feel her out about being exclusive. “First you want me to date, then you tell me I’m getting on your nerves?”
Johnny grinned. “Guess there’s no pleasing me.”
His aunt came out onto the deck just then, four ice cream bowls precariously balanced in her hands. “Tell me about it.”
But despite all his grumbling at him about being a real man, Diesel noticed how his uncle stood up immediately to help his wife, taking two bowls from her and giving her a soft kiss.
He had to admit, he could see himself with Tuesday that way.
Yep. In love. Jesus, how had that happened to him?
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
 
TUESDAY
was feeling incredibly awkward at dinner with her mother, which irritated her. Never in her whole life, even in her angsty teen years, had she been uncomfortable around her mother. Now all she could think about was her mother and Tom Richards falling into each other’s arms, grateful all obstacles had been removed from their being together.
It made her want to throw up a little in her mouth.
“Are you okay?” her mother asked, tucking into her salmon.
Tuesday hadn’t even touched her chicken parmesan, which definitely wasn’t like her. She even passed on the bread, and she was a girl who loved a good carb. “Yeah, fine, why?” she asked defensively, then hated how the tone of her voice sounded.
“You’re just quiet, that’s all. You seem like something is bothering you. Does it have anything to do with Diesel Lange?”
“No.” That she could say in all honesty. Diesel was . . . good. In fact, just hearing his name made her feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. It had been years since any man had done that to her. Since like junior year in college. It was embarrassing at the same time it was actually really nice. She enjoyed his company, both in bed and out.
“Do you like him?”
“Yes, or I wouldn’t be dating him.” God, she sounded snippy.
But her mother didn’t get angry. She just frowned. “Is this about Dad? Do you want to talk about it?”
Tuesday put down her fork. Her appetite had disappeared entirely. “You know I’m not big on talking about my feelings.”
“That’s not true. You like to talk about your feelings, you just don’t like to admit weakness.” Her mother smiled at her knowingly.
Tuesday pulled a face. Trust her mother to both know her and to baldly point it out to her. “Okay, fine, that’s probably true. So how am I supposed to ask you about Tom Richards without showing how pathetic I am? I mean, you should be able to hang out with whoever you want.”
Her mother stared at her blankly, her water goblet in her hand. “What? What about Tom Richards?”
“Do you like him?”
“Well, of course I like him or I wouldn’t be going to lunch with him. He’s a friend.”
“Just a friend?” Tuesday realized her words were ground out and that her nails were digging into her leg, but she had to know. She needed to get this over with.
Understanding seemed to dawn on her mother. “Ooh. Did you think that I was interested in Tom as more than a friend? That it was a date?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Tuesday, Tom is just an old friend. He lost his wife five years ago so he understands what I’m going through. He’s actually very recently remarried but he said it took him a long time to open up to the possibility of being with someone else. I feel the same way. Right now I can’t even imagine it.”
A lump had lodged itself in Tuesday’s windpipe. She felt both immense relief and guilt for thinking anything otherwise. Then a different kind of guilt for realizing she wouldn’t have been happy for her mother if she had found solace with another man. All the way around, it made her feel like a horrible person and daughter.
“I’m sorry. It just freaked me out, and you used to always say Tom was the one who got away.”
“That was just to tweak your father. Tom’s a good guy but he never lit my fire, if you know what I mean.”
She did. Lord, did she ever. “Okay. I’m sorry. It’s just so soon and I was being selfish.”
But her mother waved her words off. “You’d have a right to be angry if I started dating again this soon. It’s only been a month, good grief.” She passed the breadbasket to Tuesday, who took it without thinking. “So when do I get to meet Diesel?”
Realizing that somehow she had taken a piece of bread she hadn’t wanted and was buttering it, Tuesday marveled at how mothers could manipulate the hell out of you. “I don’t know, Mom. I’m not sure we’re that far along in our dating to meet the parents.” Which, now that she said that in the plural out loud, she realized didn’t apply. Her mother was the only parent between the two of them. There was something really sad and unfortunate about that.
“How do you feel about him?”
Did she have to talk about it? Couldn’t she just keep the way she felt locked inside her, where she could check on it secretly? “I like him.”
“You like your dentist. Tell me about him . . . what’s he like. What do the two of you do together?”
They had sex. A lot. But that wasn’t it. They laughed together. “We grilled out. We play with the dog. We went to putt-putt golf, which he hated, but did anyway. I forced him to go wine tasting, which he also hated. And he made me go to the shooting range, which I actually really enjoyed and that probably irritated him.” Come to think of it, she irritated him a lot. But he seemed to like it. “We’re going to the movies tonight. Just normal stuff.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It is.”
“So do you think it’s becoming serious?”
Why did that question always have to come up? Why couldn’t it just be that she was having fun in the now? Tuesday didn’t want to think about the future, she didn’t want to think about what would happen if she admitted that she was falling in love with Diesel. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he dumped her? What if she thought she’d found something special and she was wrong? That was all too damn risky. It was better to keep a tight lid on her emotions and just have fun. Hold back. Call it a crush and roll with it.
“I don’t know. It hasn’t been long enough to say one way or the other.”
The waiter leaned over her just then, dressed in black and white, his name as Italian as the pasta on her plate. She normally loved this restaurant, with its hushed atmosphere, warm stucco walls, and hearty food. But this whole dinner had made her anxious, and her stomach had the knots to prove it. Even though the outcome of her mom’s lunch with Tom had been what she would have hoped for, it still made her feel bad. Now she didn’t want to talk about Diesel.
“Don’t allow your grief to prevent you from enjoying this relationship.”
Here they went. Tuesday chewed the piece of bread she’d bitten off and tried desperately not to roll her eyes. Couldn’t her mother just understand she didn’t want to talk about it? And when she did, she’d let her know.
“Mom. I love you. I appreciate you. But don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” She suddenly wanted a glass of wine, but she resisted the urge to flag down the waiter.
Bracing herself for another round of questioning or more advice, Tuesday shoved her pasta around on her place.
But her mother just stared at her for a long moment then said, “I know you’re fine. You always are. But I want more than just ‘fine’ for you.”
Suddenly, those words knocked the fight out of her. Tuesday’s shoulders slumped and she was horrified to realize that tears were in her eyes. “It’s too soon to be more than fine. And yet, here I am totally laughing and enjoying myself with Diesel. That’s not right.”
Her mother reached across the table and patted her hand, her dark eyes filled with love. “Of course it’s right. Do you honestly think your father would have wanted you to be miserable indefinitely? You know he wanted you happy. And you know he respected Diesel quite a bit. He would be thrilled.”
She would not cry. She would not cry. So she just nodded so violently her teeth clanked into each other.
“Now let’s order some tiramisu and gloat over the fact that we don’t have to fight the battle of the bulge.”
Tuesday gave a laugh, followed by a deep breath. She could do this.
All of it.
 
 
DIESEL
had thought he would feel awkward picking up Tuesday now that he knew the truth about his feelings for her. I mean, come on, he had just admitted to himself he was in love. The big
L
. That didn’t happen very often. It was a big freaking deal.
He should be nervous. But the truth was, the minute she got in his car and smiled at him, wearing a short summer dress that showed off her long legs, he was immediately at ease. Well, not all of him. A certain part was instantly at attention.
Especially when without hesitation she just leaned over and gave him a sweet, delicious kiss, filled with both passion and tenderness. It wasn’t how she usually greeted him. So far, his initial moments with Tuesday usually involved sarcasm and/or demands. But he had to say, he liked this a whole hell of a lot.
“Now that’s a hello,” he told her when she finally pulled back.
She just gave him a soft smile. “What’s up?”
“My dick.”
“I was trying to ignore that. Because if I pay attention to it, we’ll never make it to the movies.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” That’s what Netflix was for.
“No, I suppose not.”
She didn’t say it with any flirtation. In fact, she seemed a little distracted, so Diesel let it drop. He backed his car up out of her driveway. “I can hold out until after the movie. So how was dinner with your mom?”
“It was okay. I confronted her about her lunch date with Tom Reynolds and she told me he’s recently remarried after having lost his first wife. They were just sharing grief stories.”
He would have thought she’d sound more relieved than she did. “Well, that’s good, right? Your mom isn’t dating.”
“Yeah, but I’m still a shitty daughter. I should have been happy if she was happy.”
She was way too hard on herself. “I don’t think anyone would be cool with their parent jumping right back into dating a month later. You can’t beat yourself up for having totally natural feelings.”
“Yes, I guess.” But she didn’t sound convinced. “What are we seeing?”
“They show classics at the drive-in. I thought we could see
The Exorcist
if you’re cool with it.” She didn’t strike him as the kind of woman to be afraid of a horror movie. He could pretty much guarantee she’d already seen it.
“That sounds romantic.” She rolled her eyes at him. “But actually, that’s fine with me. I love that movie.”
Of course she did. It was amazing to him how well he felt like he knew Tuesday already after just a few weeks. “You never said you wanted romantic. You just said you wanted to see a movie.”
“Isn’t it obvious that all women want romantic? Even when they say they don’t?”
Was that a trick question? “I plead the fifth on the grounds that I might incriminate myself.”

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