“That’s my Cruzy,” my mother cooed, resting a hand on my shoulder. “So wonderfully forgiving.”
This went on and on for the entire three-course meal.
The conversation seemed to go in circles:
Wyatt and Trinity’s wedding.
When was I going to finally get married to Gabby?
Messy Nessy would need to learn how to settle and give Tim Trapp a chance if she wanted to get married, even though he had a BO problem, two ex-wives, and a sinking business.
All throughout, the only thing I cared about was that the older Turner sister looked miserable. So, when everyone retired to their rooms （both Tennessee and I got our own separate bedrooms）， I immediately made my way to her stateroom to check if she was okay.
I didn’t care if she didn’t want to see me. Someone had to show her they didn’t see her as a royal fuck-up—because she wasn’t. She was the best of the bunch of them.
I raised my fist to knock on her door just as it swung open and her mother came out. Donna Turner’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
“Dr. Costello! This is Nessy’s room. I’m guessing you are looking for Trinity and Wyatt’s room?”
“You’re guessing wrong.” I flashed my teeth in what I hoped was a smile. “I came to see Tennessee.”
“But…why?” She looked genuinely surprised.
“She seemed a little quiet over dinner. I wanted to make sure she was all right.”
I could spot my object of desire behind her mother’s shoulder, inside the room. She was hugging her arms and looking out the window. The room was pretty crappy. Not as spacious or new as mine.
“Oh, well. Just be careful. I can’t imagine Gabriella would be thrilled to know you’ve been spending so much alone time with another woman lately.”
Donna flashed a ditzy beam before strolling down the corridor, back to her room. I watched her go, reminding myself I wasn’t going to give up my good-guy reputation, and all the power that came with it, because of someone else’s problems.
I pushed the door open, not waiting for Tennessee to invite me in. I propped a shoulder against the wall, shoving my hands into my front pockets.
“What the hell happened out there?”
“What do you mean?” Her back was still to me, her timbre weak and idle. Like she’d mentally checked out.
“They treated you like a kid.”
“Maybe that’s how they see me.”
“Well, maybe it’s high time it stops. Respect has to be demanded, no one’s going to give it to you for free.”
“Is that what you came here to say?”
She spun on her heel, still hugging herself. Even though her eyes were dry, the lights were out behind them. The same girl who threw sass my way on a weekly basis at the diner was gone.
I wanted her back.
Not the ghost of her, which was standing right in front of me now, pretending everything was fine.
“Or did you come here to tell me how great Bear is, how you’d love to give him some guidance, to let him play your video games, or whatever this bull-blip was? Because I don’t need your assistance, either, Cruz.”
Funny, she seemed to be at a loss for words when her family berated her but had no trouble busting my balls for the crime of breathing in her vicinity.
“Nah, the kid’s got a dad who wants to be in the picture. I just know video games are expensive as hell.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“To ask you out for a drink. Right now. You need it. I need it. Your kid is with his grandparents. Let’s be grown-ups again. Just for an hour or two.”
She was tempted.
I could tell, by the way her hand fluttered over her plastic necklace, rearranging it over her delicate neck.
“You mean, at the bar? Our families could see us.”
“I’ll try not to come on your bare chest, then,” I deadpanned.
She suppressed a smile. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Not coming on your chest? Me, too. Publicly, anyway. But having a drink should pose no problem. Then we can go to my room and do all the fun stuff.”
“No, I don’t think we should be seen together, period.”
“Being my friend will give you a lot of pull in Fairhope. It’s the first step toward gaining respect.”
“Lord, you really are a nice guy, aren’t you?” She sniffed, exasperated.
“If it makes you feel any better, rumor has it we finish last.”
“Not last night, you didn’t.”