“How sweet,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm even though … it really is sweet. And thoughtful. Considering the situation, would I rather the asphalt go to waste? His explanation is totally reasonable. Yet I am personally feeling anything BUT reasonable.
My relationship with Pat is a life-sized game of Risk, and I cannot let him win this offensive. It’s way too much ground to give up. Honestly, he has no idea how close I am to waving a white flag of surrender.
But every time I think I’m ready to lay down my arms, I remember the searing pain I felt losing Pat before. I remind myself how long I waited for him that last night for our final goodbye, how stupid I felt when I realized he left without saying goodbye.
I think about his quickie Vegas marriage to Booby McUnderpants, not all that different from his quickie marriage to me. Who’s to say he won’t change his mind about me in a few days or week?
But I feel like I’m having to work really hard to make these arguments convincing. My reasons to resist are becoming smaller and smaller the more time I spend with Pat. They are like a flimsy prop set for a movie, about to blow over with a strong wind.
Pat has changed. I see it in his patience with Jo, and even with the way he deals with my surly attitude. The special connection we had years ago is only stronger, deeper. Still, I’ve spent years building up my protective walls, not just for me but for Jo. It’s my job to keep us safe behind these walls. They’re sturdy. They’re important. And here I am letting Pat bulldoze his way right inside.
Part of me wants to step back and just let him on through. But I can’t rush my heart.
I’m completely overwhelmed with what’s going on right now with Jo. I don’t know if I have the emotional bandwidth to truly consider the relationship with Pat or make a rational decision I won’t second-guess later. There’s too much else at stake, too much on my mind. Until things with Jo are more certain, I can’t even consider letting myself fall for my husband.
And so I put my hands on my hips and steel my voice. “No more big things, Pat. I mean it.”
He totally ignores this. “I had an interesting conversation with Billy, by the way. He mentioned that you two dated?”
I narrow my eyes, feeling heat build in my chest. “You want to talk about past relationships right now? Maybe I have terrible taste in men.”
Pat’s voice lowers. Did he get closer somehow? I swear I can feel the heat of him burning into me.
“Could be. Maybe you should test that theory.” His eyes drop to my mouth. “Want to see how I taste, Lindybird?”
And I totally do. I want nothing more than to grab this infuriating man and yank his mouth to mine and battle this out without words.
“Get a room!” Chevy calls, and Pat rocks back on his heels, groaning.
“One of these days, I’m going to pay that man back for all of this.”
“I’ll gladly help you,” I say, stepping back. Pulling myself together, I manage to slow my heart to regular, human levels. “Thank you for the driveway. Even though you shouldn’t have done it.”
I stomp away from Pat before I can lose any more ground or think any more kissing thoughts.
Tank intercepts me as I reach the new circular drive in front of the house. His arms stretch out for a hug, and I can’t refuse him. Tank hugs are starting to edge ahead of Chevy hugs, especially now that Winnie’s brother is on my naughty list.
“Did Pat tell you about our mishap downtown?” he asks. “I hope it wasn’t overstepping.”
“It was,” I tell him, “but it’s also very kind. Thank you. What do I owe you?”
Tank waves me off. “Consider it a wedding gift.”
Before I can respond, Jo bounds over. She drags Tank toward the house. “Come see what Patty did in my room!” she squeals.