I met his gaze, unable to stop the smile from pulling on my mouth, my heart feeling fuller than it should, considering everything going on.
But none of that mattered. Not now. Maybe we were setting ourselves up for failure by not worrying about Nick with every passing second.
But I’d done that for years.
I refused to give him the satisfaction anymore.
“Okay. We’ll all go in the Mustang.”
“Yes!” Imogene cheered excitedly.
“But you’d better go brush your teeth and finish getting ready. We need to leave in five minutes.”
“You got it.” She bolted off her barstool and rushed up the stairs.
I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her move so quickly to get to school. Not since kindergarten when she cried after learning she couldn’t go to school on the weekends because it was closed.
“Here.” Lachlan handed me my coffee in a travel mug.
“You really don’t have to do all this.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. Want to be a part of both of your lives. Want to help you out when I can. Plus, that stubborn, headstrong kid of yours has grown on me.” He winked.
“I’m just so used to having to do everything on my own. I don’t know how to react when someone offers to help.”
“You say thank you.”
“In that case…” I lifted myself onto my toes and skimmed my lips against his. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, love.” He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. But I cut it short before it turned from a PG kiss into more R-rated territory.
“I need to get ready. Just give me a few minutes.”
“Of course.”
Leaving my coffee on the island, I dashed up to the bedroom.
More than aware all eyes would be on us this morning…not just because of Lachlan’s flashy car, but also because of the news surrounding Nick’s escape…I tugged on a pair of jeans and traded my t-shirt with “It’s a throat punch kind of day” on it for a black V-neck.
After arranging my auburn waves into some semblance of a bun on the top of my head and applying some eyeliner, I headed back downstairs, Lachlan and Imogene waiting.
“Ready?” Lachlan asked.
“Ready.”
I grabbed my coffee as Lachlan took Imogene’s book bag and slung it over his shoulder. Then he led us out to the garage, helping me into the back seat before helping Imogene into the front so she could get the “full Mustang experience”, as he put it.
As we talked and laughed during the fifteen-minute drive, it felt so…normal. Like we were a real family driving to school. It may be unconventional, but just because we didn’t fit the mold of what someone thought an ideal family should look like didn’t mean our love for each other was any less valid. If anything, it was even stronger because of all the struggles we’d been through to get to where we were.
When we pulled into the parking lot, quite a few students and faculty looked our way. While it wasn’t odd to see the lot filled with luxury cars —Mercedes, Lexus, Audi, BMW — a 1968 Mustang Shelby Cobra wasn’t your typical car, especially when the engine rumbled loudly as Lachlan maneuvered through the parking lot.
And the man driving wasn’t some stuffy CEO or politician, either.
For the first time, I didn’t care about standing out, about people looking at us.
I wanted people to see us together.
All of us.