“There she is.” He put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “And I’m serious. I’ve got your back this weekend. Nothing will give me greater pleasure than pissing in your ex-husband’s and bitchy sister’s Fruit Loops—or their healthy, organic, non-GMO, gluten-free, sugarless tree bark. Whatever their pretentious asses eat for breakfast.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that. “It will definitely be something pretentious.”
“Good. I’d be disappointed otherwise.”
She sighed and put her hand over his, some of the tightness in her muscles easing. “Thanks, Lane.”
He lowered his hand to the handle of her bag again and gave a quick nod. “No worries. We’ve got this.”
He turned to the car and rolled her suitcase behind him, her heart giving a completely unhelpful kick. This man could’ve been her friend, her lover. She liked him. He was a good guy.
But that was the problem.
Lane wanted more than she was capable of giving. Deserved more.
She couldn’t be that woman for him. She would always hurt him.
This weekend he’d see why.
Lane picked up speed, the engine purring like a big cat, as they turned off the two-way roads that cut through the bayous and the towering cypress trees and made it to the interstate that would bring them into the city. Elle kept her eyes on the scenery, trying to focus on anything but where she was going. She needed to remember her mother was ill. This was about her mom. Her sister and ex were just a sideshow. Hopefully, they’d be too wrapped up with wedding shit to bother with Elle anyway.
“Hold up,” Lane said, his voice startling her out of her thoughts. “You got them a wedding present?”
She turned to him. “Huh?”
He nodded toward her purse, which had come open at her feet. A present with silver and white wrapping stuck out. She reached down and tucked it back in before snapping her purse shut. “Yes. It’s the proper thing to do.”
“The proper thing?” He gave her a you-must-be-out-of-your-mind look. “What the hell did you get them?”
She adjusted her seatbelt and smoothed her expression. “A nutcracker.”
Lane’s eyes lit with amusement. “Nice. A metaphor to your ex?”
She smirked his way. “No, I’m not that subtle. It’s a straightforward fuck you. Henry’s allergic to nuts.”
A laugh burst out of him, one of those like she’d heard in the cafeteria. The hearty sound filled her like helium, making her feel lighter inside. He shook his head. “You’re something else, Elle McCray. Remind me to stay on your good side.”
She sniffed. “Who said I have a good side? Or that you’re on it?”
His smile turned smug. “I’ve seen you naked. I assure you, there are lots of good sides. Mainly the front and back. And I’ve been on both.”
She rolled her eyes but warmth crept through her, making her skin tingle. She knew
it was harmless flirtation, Lane’s way. But to her it felt like much more. It felt like an olive branch. He was showing her that at least for this weekend, they could leave the heavy stuff back at The Grove and be relaxed around each other.
They both got quiet for a few minutes, the interstate taking them over the Bonnet Carré spillway, a wide expanse of water that took the overflow when the Mississippi River and Lake Pontchartrain got too high. When she’d first moved here with her parents from Napa Valley, a local had laughed when she’d pronounced it in proper French. No, dawlin’, not that fancy. We say it Bonnie Carrie.
She’d felt like a stranger in a strange land. California had been home. But her parents had fallen in love with New Orleans on a vacation and the cost of living had tempted them here when she was fifteen. In Napa, they could live well. In NOLA, they could live like royalty. What did it matter that it completely uprooted their oldest child right in the middle of high school?
“So what’s my story?”
Lane’s question broke her from her thoughts. “What do you mean?”
“What’s the story we’re giving your family about me? I assume you don’t want to say I’m a professional surrogate.”
He said it casually but she knew that was still a raw wound. He should be able to say what he was. But she cringed inwardly at the thought of announcing that to her family and ex. They wouldn’t understand what that meant. They’d dismiss him out of hand.
Like she had.