Now was a terrible time for me to fall at his feet and explain it wasn’t that I wasn’t into him, it was that I was a complete and utter nut-less idiot （oh, the irony）。 I’d also just spent four hours in a jail cell.
Sure, every now and then people who used to work with my father stopped at my cell to tell me the allegations were not going to hold water and that at worst I’d be out of there by tomorrow morning, but still…
My reputation in Fairhope had taken yet another blow, and I’d have to start sucking up to my parents if I wanted to salvage my relationship with them.
“Now’s as good a time as ever.” Cruz barely touched the steering wheel when he drove, which I found both sexy and scary. “I have to pay a visit to the Duggars to make sure baby Bella is all right, and that leaves me an entire hour of giving you a piece of my mind.”
“I can’t wait to see her.”
I placed my elbows on my knees, lying unabashedly. I liked the Duggars well enough. They were blue collar, which meant they didn’t judge me as harshly as the rest.
But I certainly had bigger fish to fry than seeing their recent addition.
“She’s very cute. Looks like an alien.”
His face opened up when he talked about the baby, and my womb clenched. It was the first time in thirteen years that thing had given me any indication it was still inside my body.
Huh.
“Do you want kids?” I played with the hem of my uniform.
“Sure,” Cruz said. “A bunch. Do you want more?”
“No,” I said, feeling even more disheartened. “I can’t imagine myself with a new one, now that Bear is a teenager. It’s so much work.”
“He’ll help you out.”
“Kids cost money,” I pointed out.
“Maybe the next one will be with someone who sticks around.”
“Life taught me not to count on that.”
His jaw ticked, but he bit down on his tongue.
Fifteen minutes later, he took a right off of Interstate 74 into a cozy town that could double as Fairhope. Massive old trees, an old church, a charming Main Street, and a small creek welcomed us.
He pulled up by a small, white-bricked coffee shop with overflowing flower pots, opened the car door for me, and helped me out. I knew we must have looked strange as we entered the small shop.
Me, in my tacky pink diner uniform, and him, looking like someone’s respectable hot daddy with a few hidden kinks.
Nonetheless, the waitress who came to take our order—an Americano for him and a cappuccino for me—didn’t bat an eyelash when we sat down.
Cruz cut straight to the chase. “Tell me what happened.”
I told him about Gabriella and Mrs. Holland.
About how they insisted I’d serve them. How much they stressed that she was allergic to peanuts—something I doubted anyone in Fairhope didn’t know at this point, seeing as she advertised it as if she’d won the Nobel Prize—and how I definitely hadn’t added peanuts to the sundae.
“Coulter backed you up on that. So did Trixie.” Cruz dipped his head for a moment to check his bulky watch. “Even Jerry seemed skeptical, and he says the customer’s always right, even when Mrs. Underwood claimed she saw traces of her beloved late dog Brutus in one of your burgers.”
“Sounds like everyone in town is caught up-to-date with my latest scandal.” I rubbed my forehead, thinking about poor Bear and how his mom always managed to make headlines. “How mad are my parents?”
“That’s irrelevant, because you’ve done nothing wrong, and anyone with a working pair of eyes and a vague sense of what’s been happenin’ in town for the past month can tell you that. Now, here’s how it’s going to play out. I’m going to lay down the rules, and you’re going to abide by them and do as I say, because frankly, I’m starting to think you’re ready to let them pin an attempted murder charge on you just to avoid your parents and sister getting mad you.”
I licked my lips, waiting for more. I couldn’t argue a cork-sucking thing he’d just said. I was in danger.
Cruz graciously received his Americano, took a slow sip, and continued.
“We’re going to go back to your parents’ to pick up Bear and then head over to my house. Before we leave, you’re going to tell them we’re together, that you’re moving in with me, and that they are not to meddle in your personal affairs anymore. You will not try to explain yourself about Peanut Gate. You will not seek their approval or give them any excuses to draw you into discussing it further. You will inform them of these changes and we get the hell out. Then you will wait for them to come apologize to you. Because, sweetheart? If you don’t start demanding some respect ‘round here, no one’s going to give it to you.”