Page 29 of Beautiful Life
She explains her ridiculous assessment of the clown car. “They’re cute. And they seem like a happy little car. It’s not pretentious, it’s not snooty, it’s not even in your face. It’s just happy.”
“It seems happy?”
She doesn’t answer, but pulls into a grocery store parking lot, and like she was meant to drive a clown car, parks it with precision.
She doesn’t say anything, continuing to stare out the windshield.
I call for her. “Leigh?”
She turns but stays quiet as she pulls her lip between her teeth.
“Gem, come here.” I put my hand up to her cheek to close the infinitesimal distance between us in this ridiculously small space. “Does this car make you happy?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
Not wanting anything more than for her to be happy, I say, “You clearly don’t need my permission, but will you promise me you’ll always wear your seatbelt?”
Giving me a small smile while rolling her eyes like she thinks I’m ridiculous. “Yes, of course. I always wear my seatbelt.”
Because she’s close and I can’t help it—and because I want to show Brendon she’s mine and to stay the fuck away from her—I pull her in for a slow kiss. Finishing the kiss sooner than I want to, I pull back but don’t let go of her face. “Are you sure about the color? It’s baby blue.”
“It’s Denim Blue,” Brendon interrupts our moment from the back seat.
I move slightly to glare at him when Leigh says, “No, it’s the color of the sky. I love it.”
Looking back at her, I shake my head and kiss her quick before letting her go. We all settle back in as she takes off again in her new clown car. I decide to give a warning to all passengers. “All right, but if you don’t get a good trade, we’re going to another dealership. I don’t care if I have to drive you to Kansas City or Des Moines.”
I hear the beautiful sound of Leigh laugh from beside me at the same time Brendon grumbles from behind me. I look out the window as she drives us back to the dealership so I can negotiate her trade. She can drive it for a while until I can talk her into something bigger. There’s no fucking way I’m allowing any child of mine to ride in this clown car.
Chapter 8 – You’re Coming Back to Me
Leigh
I look beyond my suitcase lying on my bed at Gabby’s to see Tony standing across from me. His arms are crossed and he’s wearing track pants with a Final Four t-shirt, but his very unhappy gaze is directed at me. He’s not really standing, it’s more like he’s towering, and his hair is rustled from pulling his hands through it out of frustration.
Frustration stemmed from me. But not really me-me. From me leaving for the weekend.
“It’s a bachelorette weekend getaway. It’s going to be a three-day, two-night bachelorette party, Tony. It’s not like I can miss it. I’m her maid of honor and you definitely cannot come. I’ll be fine,” I explain for about the twentieth time—no exaggeration.
“What if you dream?” he bites, for the twenty-first time—no exaggeration.
I throw in my swimsuit coverup and the last pair of sandals I can squeeze and look over to him. He’s pissed, but he’s pissed because he’s worried. I’ve gotten to know him well enough over the past couple of months to know that.
I feel like I know him better than I know anyone as our weird, whatever-this-is-between-us, moves forward. And somehow, whatever-this-is gets better by the day and I find myself not remembering what it was like being alone. I felt alone all those years with Preston. But not anymore. I thought I would want nothing more than to be alone, but Tony hasn’t allowed it. As much as I don’t want to think about it, deep down I know I don’t want to be alone because being with Tony has been the best I’ve ever known.
But none of this makes Tony any less pissed at the moment.
Tomorrow is Friday and I fly out with Gabby, our friends Reagan, Lily and a gaggle of Carpino women. She has arranged a full weekend of fun and girl time at an all-inclusive spa in Sedona. Preston and I went on some nice trips during our miserable marriage, but they were stressful. When I was younger, Gabby’s parents took me on a couple vacations, but other than that I haven’t traveled much. My mom could barely afford fast food, let alone a vacation because she spent most of her meager income on cigarettes and booze. I’m looking forward to massages, facials, pool time, and fun with my friends and Gabby’s family.
“Tony.” I need to explain this differently than I have the previous twenty times. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamt? Had nightmares? I’ve had them a long time. Even before I lost,” my breath catches because I still can’t bring myself to talk about the baby. “Well, what I lost. They were different then, not as often, but that doesn’t mean I’m not used to it. I’ll be fine for two nights.”
“You’ve only had three since you’ve been with me,” he reminds me of something I already know.
I give him a small smile and remind him of his words months ago the first time he sauntered into my bed. “I know. Maybe we should consider it an experiment.”
He huffs, frustrated, and drops his arms. After looking at me—no, glaring at me—for long moments he strangely demands, “You’re coming back to me.”
I frown because I have no idea what he means. “What are you talking about?”
