Her brain wouldn’t compute his words at first. Staying half-asleep sounded like a better plan than facing the reality of moving to Louisville. She suddenly grasped the purpose of all the pampering. “So, we’re moving sooner then.”
“I thought that’s what we wanted.” He shifted slightly, which forced her to turn around and face him. “Right?”
“It’s what you wanted. I don’t want to move. I don’t understand why we can’t live here. Your practice here is good, right? Why move it?”
“Babe, I told you I wasn’t going to live here. I mean, it’s a nice suburb and all but....” His grin grew a little strained around the edges.
She frowned. “But it’s a shallow gene-pool backwater, overgrown horse town right?”
“Hey, you said it, not me.” He gave her a peck on the cheek before getting to his feet and brushing off his trousers. Cara remained seated, anger whooshing between her ears and sloshing around in her overfull belly. “Come on, babe, let’s go find some indoor activity, what d’ya say?”
Glaring at his outstretched hand she got to her feet.
“Don’t pout, sweets,” he demanded as he tossed the remnants of their picnic into the basket he’d no doubt purchased that morning.
Manipulative bastard.
No, stop it. He’s a nice guy and I am a no-account bitch.
“I’m tired. I want to go home.” The petulance in her tone pissed her off but she folded the blanket and carried it to his car, being careful not to meet his gaze.
“Well, why don’t you humor me a few more minutes?” He helped her into her seat and slammed the door.
“No.” She truly despised her very existence right then, knowing she was acting like a spoiled little kid. “I’m not in the mood, Kent. We’ll just argue.”
Instead of answering her, he started the car and peeled out of the mostly deserted parking lot. Most residents of Lucasville did not have time in the middle of a workday to loll around the park.
Cara stayed quiet, replaying the strange moment she’d shared with Kieran’s mom that morning in the clinic. She’d always liked Lindsay Love, but was a little intimidated by her. Since her cancer recovery and the fall that broke her hip, Lindsay had been physically reduced, without a doubt. But if it were possible, the setbacks had strengthened her spirit. That very spirit had given both Cara and her mother solace more than once in their sorry-ass lives. She bit her lip and observed the familiar landscape of her hometown passing by the car window forcing the memories out of her head.
Kent parked next to a converted old farmhouse that now served as a tourist trap of a bed-and-breakfast hotel. “Now for step two of my seduction plan.” When he lurched toward her and she recoiled, hitting her head on the window so hard she let out a curse. “Well shit, hon,” he said, frowning and pulling away. “Sorry to scare you.” His jaw clenched.
Cara swallowed the urge to scream. “No, I’m sorry.” The words came out in a croak. She touched his face. “I’m tired.”
“It’s all right, darlin’.” He dashed around to her side to help her out then got a small suitcase from the trunk. Deciding to let her mind go blank, she issued another inner lecture, reminding her sorry self that against all odds, a man like Kent loved her and wanted to take care of her. She’d best get with that program.
“Well I’ll declare, if it isn’t Cara Cooper,” a voice called from inside as Cara blinked to adjust to the gloom. “What are you doing here on a...oh, well hello there.”
Enduring the knowing nod from the woman behind the desk, Cara let the fact that her former fifth-grade-teacher-turned-B&B-manager stood there, ready to rent Cara a room in the smack middle of the day with some man burrow deep into her psyche. She gave a weak wave. Kent took over as usual, charming and grinning his way through the check-in, taking care to use the woman’s name several times like some kind of smarmy salesman.
By the time they made it to their overstuffed room with its frilly bedspread and curtains straight out of her ‘90s teenage bedroom Cara had come to terms with the purpose of the day’s events. She huffed and dropped like a rag doll into a chair, sending a cloud of cat hair and dust into the stuffy air. Humming, Kent headed into the miniscule bathroom. The shower water pattered. He kept humming and Cara’s head kept pounding with an insistent drumbeat of “Kieran. Kieran. Kieran.”
A hot hand landed on her shoulder and snaked into her hair, releasing it from its utilitarian ponytail.
“Holy shit,” she yelped, nearly tumbling to the floor. She must have dozed off because her mouth felt coated in slime with a distinct aftertaste of old wine. “I gotta brush my teeth.” She headed for the bathroom, confident he’d packed her the necessary items. They were indeed all arranged on the small ceramic vanity as if they belonged there. Staring down at the new toothbrush, it took all she had not to scream and run away as she processed the last twenty-four hours.