This Could Be Us (Skyland, #2)(112)

She grins, watching the students chew on the samples. “Any questions?”

Hands fly up all over the room, and I hover in the hall for another fifteen minutes listening to her field questions and entertain her daughter’s classmates. Finally they break and head back into their classrooms. I hang out around the corner, waiting for the crowd to clear. Eventually Soledad and Diane appear in the hall, wobbly cart in tow.

“I need to go relieve the librarian,” Diane says. “She’s sitting in for me at the front desk. I can find someone to help you get this stuff to your car.”

I step out from behind the wall as if I were just casually coming from around the corner.

“Ms. Charles,” I say. I know I’m bad at this stuff by the amused look Soledad shoots me. “Still here? How’d it go?”

“Great, I think.” She turns to Diane. “Don’t worry about finding someone to help me. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Diane shakes her head. “Oh, but—”

“I’m on my way out,” I say, stepping in to steer the cart out of Soledad’s hands. “I can help.”

“If you’re sure?” Diane asks, flicking a glance from me to the cart.

“I’m sure,” Soledad and I say in unison.

“Okay.” Diane looks over her shoulder toward the front desk. “I better get back, then. Thank you both for doing this.”

She walks off, and Soledad and I watch each other for a few silent seconds.

“How serendipitous that you happened to still be around to help,” she says, starting the walk to the car.

I push the cart and keep pace with her, following Harrington’s camellia-lined brick path toward the parking lot.

“You may not believe this,” I say. “But I kind of arranged to be around when you finished so I could see you.”

“No!” Soledad turns mock-shocked eyes on me, pressing one hand to her chest. “Mr. Cross. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re stalking me.”

“Seems the only way I’ll get to see you.”

She sobers, an apology etched on her expression. “I know it’s not ideal. I’m sorry. I—”

“You don’t owe me anything,” I say, parking the cart beside her Pilot. “It’s not like we’re in a real relationship, right?”

I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. She’s turned away from me, loading dishes into the trunk, and the slim line of her shoulders tenses. She pauses, dropping her arms and her head. The side-opening trunk door shields us from the school’s view, so I take a chance, gripping her arms gently from behind and bending to whisper in her ear.

“I’m sorry.” I pull her softness into my chest and fold my hands over her waist, leaning down to the curve of her neck. “I don’t mean to pressure you. You’re doing what feels best for you right now. I respect that. I just…”

Want you.

I don’t say it aloud, but the way her hands close over mine in front of her, the way she leans back into me, letting her head fall against my chest, tell me she knows. Tell me she feels it too. In her own time, she’ll know how we should move forward. I can be patient and give her that space.

The sound of quick breaths and running feet approaching makes us spring apart, but when Inez rounds the car, there is still suspicion in her eyes as she looks between her mother and me.

“Inez,” Soledad says, slamming the trunk door. “Hey. What are you doing out of class?”

Her daughter scowls, glaring at the two of us before tossing the apron to Soledad and turning on her heel.

“You forgot that!” she yells over her shoulder, taking off to run back to the school.

Soledad looks at the fabric clutched to her chest, then pulls it away and stares down at the vibrantly stitched message.

I’M THE COOL MOM.





CHAPTER FORTY





SOLEDAD


So how was school?” I ask, my tone bright and false-sounding even to my ears.

“Great.” Lupe serves herself some of the grilled chopped vegetable salad from the center of the table. “I got an A on that history test.”

“That’s amazing, honey.” I smile with genuine pleasure. “Studying really paid off, huh?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “Don’t forget I need to pay for that SAT prep class.”

“Right.” I start adding and subtracting figures in my head to make sure I’ll be able to handle even one extra expense. “We’ll take care of it.”

“I can get a job, Mom,” Lupe says, ladling some of the tomato bisque into her empty bowl. “I can help.”

“No.” I release a sigh and shake my head. “What I mean is not yet. I want you focused on school right now and all the extracurricular stuff colleges will be looking for.”

“What about this summer?” she ventures. “Deja and I thought about maybe working at Grits as hostesses.”

“I wanna be a hostess!” Lottie says, a lettuce leaf hanging from her mouth.

“Be eleven, Lottie. I’ll let you know when it’s time to be something else.” I turn my attention back to Lupe and spoon up soup from my bowl. “That might be a good idea, Lupe. We can talk about it later.”