Paul Colton whispers something in her ear, and she forces a smile while giving him a hug. She knows how to comfort people.
“They’re requesting that only the close family and friends go to the cemetery,” Maverick says, coming to stand beside me as I watch Tria go to hug her aunt and uncle.
“That’s wise. The cemetery won’t have enough room for all these people.”
Maverick smiles as he looks around at the two-story church that is almost filled to maximum capacity. One thing is for sure; the Colton family is loved.
Tria moves behind the family, and I make my way toward her after offering a few awkward embraces to a couple of people who surprise me. I really suck at this.
Hazel eyes meet mine, and I smile at her, or at least I think it’s a smile. She looks around before veering off her path and finding my side on the way out the side entrance and into a massive lobby area. Still moving away from the crowd, we head toward one of the uncrowded exits.
“Do you need a ride to the cemetery?” I ask lamely.
“I’m not going. It’s the close family and friends only, and I wasn’t really that close with Thomas. I feel like it’d be better to let the ones who loved him the most grieve him with each other.”
I almost feel relieved to know she wasn’t as close to him as I thought. She’s close with Paul and Margaret, so I only assumed she had been close to Thomas, too.
“You were so quiet on the way home. I was worried.”
Her sweet smile does something that makes me feel stupid—stupid enough to not see the door until I slam into it. She tightens her lips, refraining from laughing at a time like this, while I grip my aching forehead and mutter a few curses. Motherfucker that hurt.
“Damn door came out of nowhere,” I grumble as she heads outside. I follow, eyeing the door one last time, and she walks down the barren sidewalk.
“I was quiet because I didn’t really know what to say. I never do at times like these. I’m always worried about saying or doing the wrong thing, and it was a shock. I knew he was sick, but I guess you never see mortality for what it is until someone dies.”
And I don’t have a clue what to say to that. She’s not the only one who lacks the right words for the right moment.
“Where are you parked?” I ask instead.
“I rode with Mom and Rain. Mom is going to the cemetery, and Rain is leaving with Dane. So it looks like you’re taking me home, or I’m getting a c
ab.”
I grin down at her as she leans into me, and my arm goes around her shoulders.
“I tried calling my dad to let him know, but he ignored my call. It did a two-ring thing before going straight to voicemail.”
“Think he’ll come to check on the family he’s been a part of for so long?” I ask mildly, trying to find a way to say the right things.
“No. I don’t think he will. He only gets more selfish every day.”
Again, I have no idea what to say. I hate to sound spoiled, but my parents never had any severe marital problems that stressed me out. So it’s impossible to relate to what Tria is going through.
My car is a block away, but she apparently knows which direction I parked in. Right now, I don’t care if anyone sees me holding her to me, but no one is within view of the church from this angle. They’re all standing around the front, and we’re on the side.
“How’d you know where I parked?”
“Lucky guess,” she says deadpan.
We make it to the car without her ever moving out from under my arm, and I kiss her head before opening the door for her. As she climbs in, my mind goes to the obvious. What I’m feeling for Tria is a little more than casual, and I’m not yet sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
As soon as I get in, she smiles over at me. “Thanks for the ride. I really didn’t want to get a cab.”
Reaching over, I grab her hand in mine to squeeze it reassuringly, unsure about what else to do. She probably needs rest, so I make a mental note to let her recharge for a few days without me.
When she’s ready to see me, then she can always call.
Chapter 8